Mississippi Deer Camp 2019

[AlanC]

It's opening day of gun season which will last until mid February.

Our home is parked in the boondocks at a deer camp just north of Columbia, MS about 50 miles north of McNeill, MS our usual hangout. I am ensconced in my usual place in front of my twin monitors steeling myself for another wrestling match with AutoCAD 2020 Civil 3D. An hour or so ago the Red Headed Deer Slayer shouldered her Remington Model 3 7mm-08 and marched off to her deer stand.

When most of you think "deer hunting" you might visualize Nimrod (famous hunter in Old Testament) stalking quietly along in a forest of large trees. Or you might be seeing Elmer Fudd. In the Deep South it is not like that at all. This region is one huge pine tree farm. Trees are the main crop as the soil is not suited for cash crops like the Midwest. When the trees get large enough, they clear cut it so there are no old-growth trees anywhere around here. It's all pine trees and brier patches.

One cannot walk in our woods as it is nothing but small to medium sized trees growing out of brier patches. There is no stalking or anything remotely like that. Down here individuals and groups lease the hunting rights from the property owners for so much an acre. They plant food plots of rye grass, clover, or other succulent, put up a box stand, and wait inside that for the deer to come out of the thickets.

The Red Headed Killer is in her box on a pipeline right of way not far from where I sit wasting time. We planted rye grass in the cleared right of way on either side of her box and also placed a feeder on a cleared lane perpendicular to the pipeline right of way. The feeder is a large plastic tub that holds 200 lbs of feed corn and it has an electric motor that slings it out every day at 7AM and 3PM. I have my fingers crossed that a decent buck won't be stupid enough to cross her lane or try to eat at her feeder. I really have come to hate all the unpleasantness that follows such an event.

Just a word about Hunting Camp Central before I go to work. This camp is a hodge podge of campers and abandoned metal buildings that used to be an oil collection facility. There are abandoned tanks, well heads, pumps, and all manner of oil patch detritus scattered about. There are power poles and panel boxes also scattered about with power lines running willy nilly around the site ending in various kinds of plugs in various states of repair (some are pretty sketchy). A few days ago I put in a 50 amp breaker and ran about 50' of number 6 wire to a 220 plug for my 5th wheel. (We doan need no steenkin 'lectricians) I'm a little proud of my line because I hung mine high enough that someone can walk under it. From my window I can see at least 4 or 5 30 amp lines that are no more than 3' or 4' off the ground.

I was helping one of the members last night and had to continually duck under two of those lines while dragging a large iron bar. I was thinking that IF I wasn't paying attention and let that bar touch or get near those lines and IF that line- which has been hanging there for 20 years had minute cracks in the insulation- things could get interesting. I was thinking that this place is an OSHA PSA for what not to do.

I don't wanna know about the septic lines that everyone is hooked up to. I found one that wasn't being used and ran my "stinky slinky" over to it.

OK, no more procrastinating. Time to get something done.

[coachdoc]

Glad this isn't my backyard. You are a brave and persistent man to make this usable for your daughter.

[AlanC]

Nov 23, 2019 10:11:22 GMT -5 coachdoc said:

Glad this isn't my backyard. You are a brave and persistent man to make this usable for your daughter.

I am older than Lil Red but not that much older.

[theevan]

Haha, Alan.

Such a weird culture, the whole deer hunting thing.

Wendy & I took a detour to a scenic outlook on a national forest road somewhere in the Smokies. There was another vehicle parked there, an old beat up Tacoma. Standing next to it was John, a grizzled local in old bib overalls. Wendy asks him what he was doing up there. "Ahm waitin' on my bud, an me an him is lookin' for some Bahr." Wendy asked him if there were lots of deer up these high. "Naw, they be down lower. 'Sides, anybody can kill a deer. We lookin for Bahr. They's up here too. Shot us one last week. Four hunnert pounder." He showed us pics on his phone.

Wendy wanted to take him home.

[paleo]

My grandson's hunting last weekend.
Find a possum, run it down (on foot)
throw your coat over it
Reach under your coat and grab it by the scruff of the neck
put it on a leash,
let it go

[RickW]

I'm not quite sure how this relates to the action practice of "hunting". 🤣 Which I think involved going out and stalking your prey.

Not sure this would be allowed up here, though I have heard of setting bait to attract bears. As far as deer go, there are places you could just sit on the roadside and one will wander by shortly. They are like vermin in many parts.

[dradtke]

Nov 23, 2019 10:59:28 GMT -5 paleo said:

My grandson's hunting last weekend.
Find a possum, run it down (on foot)
throw your coat over it
Reach under your coat and grab it by the scruff of the neck
put it on a leash,
let it go

What a cute kitty.

[dradtke]

North woods guys don't stalk deer, either. Shooting aside, every year you hear about hunters breaking a leg or an arm falling out of their deer stand.

[AlanC]

Nov 23, 2019 11:48:02 GMT -5 dradtke said:

North woods guys don't stalk deer, either. Shooting aside, every year you hear about hunters breaking a leg or an arm falling out of their deer stand.

Or much worse. They are lucky if they get away with a simple broken bone.

[Dub]

[brucemacneill]

Nov 23, 2019 13:22:47 GMT -5 Dub said:

Ah, the days when comedy was funny.

[Cornflake]

Your hunting and our hunting are entirely different activities. Different terrain, different densities of deer.

[brucemacneill]

It's duck season here and maybe it's deer season too, I don't keep track. There's no hunting in my area but I can hear shotguns and rifles in the distance, sometimes not enough distance IMHO but since we don't have local police either I'm not surprised. Deer seem to hide out in my woods all year but I saw some ducks out back yesterday so I figure the deer must have told them where there was a safe space.

[epaul]

These parts, there are two primary approaches to deer hunting.

Deer stands: Put a stand up at the edge of a clearing or meadow. Wait for a deer to show.

Driving: One or two fellows will set up "post" at one end of a woods. The remainder of the hunting group will walk the woods beginning at the other side of the woods. If the plan works, a deer will be 'driven' from the cover in the woods and provide a shot for a fellow posting. A poster that misses an easy shot or makes a difficult on will be roasted or feted at the deer camp come evening (and sometimes for years).

[AlanC]

That is similar to "dog-hunting" down here. This used to be the main way deer was hunted years ago. Now it is losing favor and there are forces afoot- mostly other hunters and not do-gooders- who want to ban dog hunting because it disturbs the deer so much. I was raised out West and used to go hunting with my dad in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Cornflake would recognize that kind of hunting. This was in the late '50s and early '60s. We would camp and hunt and sometimes not see another human. Dad was kinda dark complected and could pass for Native American. He secured permission to hunt on a Modoc reservation. Those memories are indelible.

But, I digress. The topic at hand is Deep South dog hunting.

My first exposure was going with my Brother-in-Law's old boss. He had an old 4WD Scout with gun racks and a CB radio. I didn't know shit from shinola having only hunted out West. We met up out in the woods with a dozen other vehicles- mostly POS trucks and Jeeps. The ones with the boxes full of hounds huddled up and discussed things and off everyone went. I was thrown out with little explanation of what was about to happen. Any question I asked was answered with smart-ass condescending answers so I soon left off.

I was standing on a lane in the piney woods holding a 12 gauge and wondering what kind of hunting this was. Soon I heard barking dogs that grew closer and then veered away growing fainter. A little later I heard a racing engine and my ride appeared slinging mud and skidding sideways. He slid to a stop and yelled at me to get my ass in.

I complied and he hit the gas driving like a maniac while jabbering on his CB radio about the "Turkey Foot" and "Highline Road". I was later to learn they were road names and he was racing to get in front of the deer and pack of dogs which had gotten by Leroy and "One eye" (lots of colorful nicknames with hunters). He slowed down somewhat and told me to jump out and keep my eyes peeled.

I was to finally figure out that this was paper company land that was interlaced with logging road which created blocks of land. They would walk those roads before daylight looking for the best track and discuss things on the radio. Once a consensus was reached, a pack of dogs and a driver would be designated and the "crew" would spread out at intervals in order to intercept the potential victim.

I have many stories of crews almost getting in shootouts over perceived territories; people getting wounded by flying buckshot; the sound buckshot makes as it skips down the road in front of me because a retard shot at a group of does and yearlings that was crossing near me and that I had declined to shoot.

I have participated in man drives but they are not popular because whoever went into the woods wearing their new hunting garb would come out on the other side looking like a rag-a-muffin. There are some awesome Brierpatches here. At the end of the day I have seen many a dog with a bloody nose and tail from them.

I thought that was a pretty fun hobby and obtained some huge-ass mud grip tires for my truck and a CB radio. I didn't kill much anything but time but it was entertaining for a while and can be fun if your crew is crazy and entertaining. One in Lumberton were the most colorful. One of them was a huge redneck that- no lie- talked just like Mr. Haney on Green Acres. He was funny as hell and always kept me laughing.

That type of hunting is dying around here and I don't actually know any dog hunters anymore. There used to be scads.

[Cornflake]

Alan, I suspect your hunting in the Sierras was more like what I'm used to.

As for dogs...probably my favorite hunting was for quail. Watching a dog work was a big part of what I liked, as well as the difficult shots and the delicious meat. We have three kinds of quail in Arizona. In the area near Phoenix you get the top-knotted Gambel's quail. You also get cholla, a variety of cactus with a mass of small spines that embed themselves in anyone or anything making contact. It's very painful and the devil to remove. Once I had a dog get into some. His nose and muzzle were full of the things. He had to be taken to an emergency animal clinic and sedated while the spines were removed. I knew other guys who'd had the same experience.

Another time I was dove hunting with a friend who made the dumb mistake of wearing sandals. He backed into a cholla. After a moment he said he thought he was going into shock.

I've never had a serious collision with cholla but I wear boots and watch where I'm going very.

[RickW]

Around here ,most hunting involves getting on something like a quadrunner, and going up logging roads into the mountains. You are truly in the middle of nowhere. You have to find what you’re shooting at. You also have the small problem of bears, that either are cranky you’re around, especially if they have a kill or cubs. And if you kill something, you’re an immediate target for bears.

Was talking to a friend a month or two ago about hunting. He had a bear charge him over an elk he’d killed. He put several 30 odd 6 rounds into it, which injured it, enough that it ran by him and kept going. He tracked if for several kilometres, but finally gave up. Tough buggers.

He also said there had been a recent story about two hunters who had been killed by a bear. They put down their guns, set up a selfie with their kill. Seems like the bear hit them and they didn’t have time to get their guns.

[AlanC]

I would think that dropping your weapon and turning your back on a wounded bear would loft you into the upper echelons of the Darwin Awards.

[paleo]

Nov 24, 2019 8:20:52 GMT -5 AlanC said:

I would think that dropping your weapon and turning your back on a wounded bear would loft you into the upper echelons of the Darwin Awards.

Have you read the Louis and Clark Journals? They describe meeting a Yellow Bear (Grizzly). There conclusion was that there was no point in shooting them, because you couldn't kill them, and shooting them just made them mad.

[Cornflake]

Rick, are those grizzlies? We have black bears and I saw one once while deer hunting but I've never heard of them being a problem for hunters.