Lately I had the opportunity to try out my hunting skills and let me tell you, I suck. Ok, actually my hunting skills might, (I said might) rock but I am not really sure about that because instead of hunting, I went swimming. Let me explain how this happened. I have a friend that is the epitome of an excellent hunter. They have been hunting from what I understand, all their life and is also an excellent hunting guide. I however, even though I wanted to, have not been hunting most of my life and let's face it, I am a clutz. After three spinal surgeries and a pretty severe case of scoliosis, it is amazing that I am even able to stand up straight.Ok fine, I don't stand "straight" I guess I should say, it is amazing that I am able to stand upright. That being said, here we go.
I recently talked this friend into taking me hunting, Turkey hunting to be exact. The first morning was gorgeous. It was day break, we were all set up, we could hear the turkeys coming in from a distance and I felt good about the whole situation, this was going to be the day that I was going to take down an unsuspecting bird. It was a little chilly but my heart and adrenaline were racing so I felt as if I was burning up, I could hear my heartbeat and I swear I could see it pulsing through my hands as I was getting ready to mark off an item from my bucket list. And yes, I have a bucket list and yes, it does contain hunting down a wild animal. Stop judging me, before all things I am a country girl that does enjoy being outside, experiencing everything first hand the way that God intended us too. So here I was, waiting for my chance and I am not going to tell you all the details but that chance came and I missed. I shot, I missed by a feather, and I was eternally embarrassed. Maybe not that embarrassed being as how I am sharing it with the world now but whatever, you get it. At the time I thought that it was not my best moment. Little did I know, that moment was still to come. Which brings us to day two.
Day two, I was ready, I was pumped, I was going to kill something. Unfortunately the turkeys did not see it my way. We walked, and we walked, and finally we found them, a little to late because we flushed them out and I missed my opportunity. I was bummed but my fearless guide told me not to be discouraged, we had more walking to do, we had more turkeys to sneak up on. However we did not, we just didn't know that yet. So we walked some more, saw some deer, got a lecture about how when the zombies come and take over I will be prepared because now I am a huntress, walked some more, saw some cows, talked about zombies again, walked some more... and then we saw some ducks. Being the great white huntress that I am I actually had a duck licenses with me. Ok fine,I had a duck license because my sweet manfriend is an avid duck hunter and it is his goal to take me duck hunting, in which I am totally pumped about since the day he got his new Woodduck mount in the mail and placed it on top of the cabinet in my house. Now every time I walk past it I have this urge to shoot a duck. (Once again, first and for most I am a country girl, I have added killing a duck to my bucket list, stop judging me.) Anyways, during the exact moment that I saw the cute little feathery waterfowl it was game on. If I couldn't take home a turkey, I was taking home a duck! At least that is what I thought... WRONG! I wasn't going to take home a duck, I was going to take home soggy boots, and sopping ass wet camo. Yes, I said it, SOPPING ASS WET CAMO.
So there we were running down along side the river trying to get close enough to make a shot when we realize that we have to cross an irrigation ditch, that I am referring to as a babbling brook, before we can get close enough to take down an unsuspecting Mallard. The babbling brook is about four feet wide, I am about four foot ten and a half inches tall, there is no way I am going to be able to cross it. My fearless guide all of a sudden finds this tree down across the babbling brook and runs across it like a little spider monkey. Seriously it happened that fast. Then there I was, standing on the other side looking at him in shock because never in my wildest dreams would I have thought him to be spider monkeyish. So then he begins to coax me over. Yeah... it went like this...
Friend: Come on! Hurry!
Me: Are you kidding? I can't cross that!
Friend: Yes you can! If I can you can!
Me: It's like you don't even know me! I have absolutely NO balance. No way spider monkey!
Friend: Yes you can! They are getting away! Just do it! Do it!!!
Me: Um HEEELLLOO! Three spinal surgeries! SCOLIOSIS! No way!
( I should also add I was pretty much yelling at this point. I am pretty sure the unsuspecting ducks were now suspecting and long gone!)
Friend: Get over here NOW! Just do it! DO IT!
Me: Shit! Ok, Don't let me fall in!
Friend: I am holding the log steady. Come on already.
Me: *steps on to the log, it's not steady, decides to crawl/scoot across it. Get's half way reaches for friends hand, log shakes, loses all balances, everything is a blur, hits ice cold water, screams, OH SHIT! MY iPhone!, realizes I am a sopping ASS wet mess.*
Friend: I totally thought you had that little Vernie!
Me: Clearly NOT!
Friend: *takes my iPhone (which by the way is perfectly fine, no water damage, THANK YOU BABY JESUS!) and then yanks me out of freezing ass, wet ass babbling brook*
Me: Well that was awesome. (Sarcasm) *dumping water out of my boots, squeezing out my socks*
Friend: *Laughing* I so have to have a picture of this. (See above photo, yes that is my mad face and I know I don't look that mad because at this point it was kind of funny. I said KIND OF funny.)
Me: Well, we didn't kill a turkey or a duck, but I am sopping ass wet. Yay!,for turkey hunting.
Friend: *still laughing*
And then we walked back to the pickup, found a towel and I drove home, sopping ass wet, while day dreaming about how that could have gone better. What did we learn from this experience? We learned that my friend is Patrick Swayze. You know that scene in Dirty Dancing when Patrick, I mean Johnny is dancing around on the log? That's my friend! I am Jennifer Grey, I mean Baby, he is Patrick Swayze, I mean Johnny. Holy Macaroni!, Someone please tell me, Baby, to go back to her corner when it concerns log walking. Do I sound bitter? Trust me I am not bitter, I am now motivated!
It's going down little Turkeys. Spring is a comin' just you wait your feathery little asses.