ooUGAo
Member
It’s October 22, 2011 countless men, women and children can’t sleep as deer only seen in dreams and on Boone and Crockett’s official web page flash through their mind. Hundreds of homes and garages across the state have the smell of Rem Oil lingering in the air as a last minute cleaning of your tools was seen fit for tomorrows first day at work. For a lucky few in the south the afternoon was spent loading dog boxes and fine tuning the CB and two-way radios in hunting trucks, because tomorrow is the opening day of Georgia’s fire arm season. As you finally fade to sleep weary from the countless scenarios of the deer you will see the following morning and trying to figure out which taxidermist will suit your situation the best this season, you are haunted by dreams of missed shots or pulling the trigger on a dream buck that and when all you hear is the click of the firing pin you realize you had forgotten to load your gun. Luckily I am a proud member of a 13,000 dog hunting club that borders Liberty, Long, and McIntosh counties in southeast Georgia, so my misery and anticipation is spent with 45-50 other fellow members going through the same crisis I am. After tomorrow we will turn into sleep deprived machines with long hair and beards that a Hells Angels member would be proud of. We will return to the woods at daylight as often as humanly possible for the next 13 weeks. Relationships with girlfriends will end and wives will spend countless sums of money at the mall as they feel the best way to cope with the loss of a companion is to buy more clothes, shoes and jewelry, and for these thirteen weeks not a word will be said as this keeps the heat off of us for the time spent into the woods.
The buzzing of alarms at 5:00 A.M. can almost be heard across the state, though no one really needs to set an alarm, because they have more than likely been in a fitful sleep all night and the alarm is just falling on already listening ears. The jump from the top bunk of a bed at hunt camp slows down no man or child this morning as they run to fling open and get a big fresh breath of the crisp October air. You can feel the electricity in the air as the dogs suddenly realize that something is happening inside and begin to howl and scream, “let me out, it’s time to go, it’s deer season.” Breakfast is served at 6:00 A.M. though few people actually eat eggs are pushed back and forth across the plate and bacon is crushed into small pieces the size of sand, because you are so anxious eating seems like a huge inconvenience at the moment. Countless pots of coffee are served throughout the state and extra fertilizer is poured on the trees in Brazil, to keep up with the sudden demand of this black concoction essential to the masses about to begin their trek into the silent forest. In fact coffee may become your newest most valuable friend in the following months required to keep you a functioning member of society.
After Breakfast several members of the club gather around an old map that outlays a particular block of woods that the club leases. The map has numbers scattered in what would seem a random order but these numbers have particular reasons for placements and indicate where a person should have a stand or release dogs for the hunt. As the men plan out the hunt the rest of the club gradually files into the room and stands by watching in anxious amusement as the following moments could sum up what kind of season is in store for the following year. Not a face in the room isn’t fashioning a grin from ear to ear, and a bright twinkle can be seen in the eye of many. As one man turns around from the map to explain the mornings hunt and expressing how imperative it is for everybody to stay safe and have a good time, another man grabs the hat off of the nearest child and fills it with pieces of paper that have stand numbers scribbled on them. A shout for dog men to come draw stands brings a smaller group of men to the front who reach into the hat and draw a number. After each man is given directions on which way to send their dogs and some given directions to where they are going they exit the room and head outside to “load up”. Once again the dogs howl with anticipation because they know what is about to happen. The dog men go to their individuals and load up the hounds they want for this hunt. The tails and noses of Walkers, Blueticks, Redbones, English hounds, Beagles, and a variety of other dogs can be seen sticking out of dog boxes as they are loaded. Tailgates are slammed and starters are turned as the men turn into the road in a single file line to the woods.
Back inside the standers have now drawn their stands and been given directions to where they should go. The men and children file out of the room into the crisp fall air and begin to put on their blaze orange, the Velcro and zipper sounds are prominent as the orange vest are fashioned in place. At this moment this group looks like an amped up road crew about to attempt to build a four-lane highway across America. As this second group loads up in their trucks they follow the dog men to the woods where the magic will happen this morning. As the trucks turn off onto an assortment of different roads the two-way radios calls fill the air, “Where am I going again?” “Next to the old cypress pond stand 33” “oh yeah thanks” “10-4”. As the trucks reach their destination a still moment is felt through the woods as the silence captivates everyone. Suddenly a call over the radio comes out breaking the silence,” Is everybody ready?” again more silence fills the air. Then comes the most anticipated words of the season “turn ‘em out, let em roll, release them bad mothers”. Deer season has officially started. Tailgates are dropped and “whoops!” can be heard echoing through the woods. This is the first time you have felt at ease in the past nine months and you realize that you are at home and at peace with God, this is where you were intended to be and this is where you will stay. Suddenly a dog squeals and you can hear the excitement in the dog’s voice. A shotgun bellows across the woods as more dogs chime in and the race is on. It is deer season.
The buzzing of alarms at 5:00 A.M. can almost be heard across the state, though no one really needs to set an alarm, because they have more than likely been in a fitful sleep all night and the alarm is just falling on already listening ears. The jump from the top bunk of a bed at hunt camp slows down no man or child this morning as they run to fling open and get a big fresh breath of the crisp October air. You can feel the electricity in the air as the dogs suddenly realize that something is happening inside and begin to howl and scream, “let me out, it’s time to go, it’s deer season.” Breakfast is served at 6:00 A.M. though few people actually eat eggs are pushed back and forth across the plate and bacon is crushed into small pieces the size of sand, because you are so anxious eating seems like a huge inconvenience at the moment. Countless pots of coffee are served throughout the state and extra fertilizer is poured on the trees in Brazil, to keep up with the sudden demand of this black concoction essential to the masses about to begin their trek into the silent forest. In fact coffee may become your newest most valuable friend in the following months required to keep you a functioning member of society.
After Breakfast several members of the club gather around an old map that outlays a particular block of woods that the club leases. The map has numbers scattered in what would seem a random order but these numbers have particular reasons for placements and indicate where a person should have a stand or release dogs for the hunt. As the men plan out the hunt the rest of the club gradually files into the room and stands by watching in anxious amusement as the following moments could sum up what kind of season is in store for the following year. Not a face in the room isn’t fashioning a grin from ear to ear, and a bright twinkle can be seen in the eye of many. As one man turns around from the map to explain the mornings hunt and expressing how imperative it is for everybody to stay safe and have a good time, another man grabs the hat off of the nearest child and fills it with pieces of paper that have stand numbers scribbled on them. A shout for dog men to come draw stands brings a smaller group of men to the front who reach into the hat and draw a number. After each man is given directions on which way to send their dogs and some given directions to where they are going they exit the room and head outside to “load up”. Once again the dogs howl with anticipation because they know what is about to happen. The dog men go to their individuals and load up the hounds they want for this hunt. The tails and noses of Walkers, Blueticks, Redbones, English hounds, Beagles, and a variety of other dogs can be seen sticking out of dog boxes as they are loaded. Tailgates are slammed and starters are turned as the men turn into the road in a single file line to the woods.
Back inside the standers have now drawn their stands and been given directions to where they should go. The men and children file out of the room into the crisp fall air and begin to put on their blaze orange, the Velcro and zipper sounds are prominent as the orange vest are fashioned in place. At this moment this group looks like an amped up road crew about to attempt to build a four-lane highway across America. As this second group loads up in their trucks they follow the dog men to the woods where the magic will happen this morning. As the trucks turn off onto an assortment of different roads the two-way radios calls fill the air, “Where am I going again?” “Next to the old cypress pond stand 33” “oh yeah thanks” “10-4”. As the trucks reach their destination a still moment is felt through the woods as the silence captivates everyone. Suddenly a call over the radio comes out breaking the silence,” Is everybody ready?” again more silence fills the air. Then comes the most anticipated words of the season “turn ‘em out, let em roll, release them bad mothers”. Deer season has officially started. Tailgates are dropped and “whoops!” can be heard echoing through the woods. This is the first time you have felt at ease in the past nine months and you realize that you are at home and at peace with God, this is where you were intended to be and this is where you will stay. Suddenly a dog squeals and you can hear the excitement in the dog’s voice. A shotgun bellows across the woods as more dogs chime in and the race is on. It is deer season.
