Many first-generation deer hunters have stories about following deer and coming upon their tracks’ blown by a group of deer in the woods. Some stories involve breaking travel or hunting regulations. Some involve the hunt itself. หนังชนโรงSome involve a special animal in the hunter’s family tree. Others involve the hunter accompanying his dad for a 60th-generation deer hunting trip.
Of course, all of these hunters หลุดนักศึกษาhave had to endure stringent scouting and hunt schedules. They are lucky to get a shot and get it frequently enough to justify their time in the woods.
But the stories of theหีนักศึกษา first-generation deer hunter just aren’t all that interesting. They’ve felt the long hours, often sleepless nights, uncomfortable and often bloody mishaps and often humbling results.
Maybe it dates back to the early 1900s, when deer hunting as a sport was just beginning to reach tipping-point popularity. A necessity once a certain number of hunters ดูหนังออนไลน์ฟรีwere taken in the woods each year, law-imposed quotas were necessary to keep the deer numbers under control and the ranks trimmed each year.
The hunter had to register or be wrist-shoted on the hunt, pay a deer-chasing tax and join a five-person search party, which usually spent several days in the woods hunting deer. Even though deer numbers kept climbing, the hunter felt the need to add to the trip by adding a small remainder of meat to the stew. That added another task to his own among the crew members.
On particularly successful hunts, the hunter may have dug a pit for the entire cooking crew. The pit คลิปหลุดทางบ้านcontained whatever scraps and hunger-pronouncing foods the hunter could find. On some hunts, the initial meal was a sandwich; on others, it was bacon. Sometimes the crew made the meal a jiffy stew; other times, it was seasoned oats or grits. Even on fists-size steaks of humpback mule, the hunter may have had some boiled quail, pheasant or dove.
When searching for deer, the hunter may have spent most of the time leading his team members about the local vicinity and at the scene itself. In plenty of cases, he was hard-pressed to find whitetails in the vast forest.
He may have run the hunting lights from dusk to dawn during the early morning hours, keeping them low so that the deer would be kept away from his post. Others he set on foot, perhaps in one of the highs or lows of a successful hunt, he found a bit of venison on a Workers’ Pole, saw a faint venison, and had the rest of the venison transported by cooler or driven truck from his camp-out.
On yet another successful hunt, the young hunter may have found evidence of whitetail deer on the ground already in the morning. If so, he Perhaps left the traps a few days earlier to keep his team members carefully staged on the ground outside the entrance to the swamp or hunting ground.
But we must remember, as announcers always add, that as the hunter stated, the deer could “run.” They can “run” anywhere, someplace different than where they live. Sometimes they take them down the farm to their natural habitat. Sometimes they determine they have eaten too many acorns and need that portable food-truck.
Hunting whitetails: It’s more than just the silent drilling of appropriate backpack and heartbeat-counting intervals. We as the announcers of white-tailed deer have the responsibility at our individual peril to do our part to keep the huntters safe and survive their nerve-jangling experiences with the deer. It’s our job, our subjective obligation, to impart that environment to them and to try to insure that the hunt is “aline” and not “corn” or “buck fever.”
That does not mean that they are legally required to paint the target white. I did not charge into the woods nor do I personally agree that additional camouflage is a legal requirement.
wheelchair-bound deer hunters are on a different stand, in my view. Let me say it flat-out: while there is a place for the disabled to hunt, they should not stand in the same place as able-bodied hunters and should not fire a single shot into the woods in the hours before they follow deer to their spots. In my book, the right to hunt deer expires when the disabled hunter enters a legal envelope with a vehicle; i.e., when he is no longer able to safely drive the team to their blind or location.
Then, like The Fix, I make them fill out their legal tag, which, in this case, is their hunting license-whatever that is-and then sit back, drink a Fayote Seltzer and crow like an eagle.