Desperation, Closure, and Hope
By Craig Dumas
There comes a time where once you were cruising along spending time in the woods enjoying yourself, camp, friends, and family when all of a sudden it dawns on you what day it is and how much longer you have before the trip home. This is when the panic mode sets in and you’re desperately trying to spend every last minute out there thinking – hoping – something will come along in your range of sight. This is when I spend the most of my time trying to figure out the best trick shots feasible and how to manage these shots while making the best and most humane kill. I have done this in the past drilling a deer in the front shoulder which just so happened to slice the lungs as well. A good, clean kill is the goal and henceforth should be at the top of one’s list when contemplating these shots. I have also vividly imagined a shot thru the back of the skull when one is walking straight away from me. That is how desperate I become when my departure day approaches. Nevertheless, all this mental preparation is for naught as the last few days are on an equal plain to the previous days as deer continue to hide. Thus the grumpy and grinch-type mood returns to my person as another year comes and is gone.
So how does one face closure and keep the hope, the yearning for the following year available in the minimal space left in my exhausted mind? Well, it all starts on the drive home when I get started making the mental food list I spoke of in a previous post. A portion of the drive is spent being thankful all went well in the camp. The generator ran like a champ everyday without error. Everyone showed up that said they would. The meals were a delight. The trailer performed magnificently. The weather even cooperated for the most part. It is also helpful to see the empty beds of pickups on the way home making me feel like I wasn’t the only one unsuccessful. At least one of the guys in our camp was fortunate enough to down a deer. We are always hopeful for a few more hanging but something is better than nothing thus keeping that glimmer of hope alive for the next season.
It’s this endless hope that drives us back into the woods year after year. The tradition, the camaraderie, the meals (especially the meals), and the urge – the drive – knowing there are animals out there just taunting us to come back and try to figure out their routine long enough to catch the ‘dumb one’ daring enough to appear in our sights for that anticipated shot ringing out through the silence. I think it is the silence that drives you crazy in the end. It’s the silence that makes you believe napping is okay because you’re sure that upon awakening, you’ll be delightfully greeted by a number of parading deer. It’s the silence that makes you sit there day after day just itching for an excuse to dirty your rifle. This, my friends, is what eleven-and-a-half months every year is worth waiting for.
Â