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Posted by The Outdoor Tripp (Member # 619) on September 26, 2006, 09:08 PM:
Blind Faith
For years I hunted whitetail from a tripod stand – a Spartan contraption comprised of a plastic swivel seat bolted atop three nine-foot rust magnets. There’s just something exhilarating about hunting still-as-a-statue while exposed to freezing cold, penetrating winds and soaking rain. And when I can remember exactly what that is, I’ll let you know.
I braved the elements to know the wind, panoramic vision and the sound of snapping twig and crunching leaf – things only experienced when truly outside. But as the years passed, my hunting buddies matured (defined as fatter, slower and plagued with runaway ear hair) and developed the uncanny ability to harmonize while snoring like on-coming freight trains.
Snoring buddies may seem trivial to the novice hunter, but veterans of the tripod stand highly respect the relationship of sleep deprivation to potential disaster while hunting at elevation in open air. So…
It is with great consternation I announce the end of an era. A trailer load of snoring ne’er-do-wells, sleepless nights and 5:00 AM alarms conspired for two near-falls last season and have officially driven The Outdoor Tripp indoors. I have decided to forego my beloved tripod and now hunt from a box blind – a slightly less Spartan contraption comprised of a 4x4x6-foot box bolted atop four five-foot rust magnets.
(A local feed store’s off-season blind closeout sale, discovering the term “waterproof” is highly overused in the hunting garment industry, and general wussiness had nothing to do with my decision, rest assured).
As my hunting buddies and I assembled the new blind and accompanying tower last weekend, I fantasized of the rich possibilities that lay before me. I had gained the ability to eat, sleep, read, play solitaire, watch TV and make phone calls while hunting. Never again would I wonder how a rifle might shoot after a ten-foot fall and I’d soon enjoy the freedom of hunting camo’d only from the neck up.
In two hours the blind was complete. The marvel of plastic, plywood and aluminum stood proudly as a beacon for hornets, raccoons, owls, black widow spiders and the occasional foreign exchange student.
One joy of tripod-hood was knowing my cohorts weren’t particularly fond of hunting exposed to the elements and that deer around my feeder drew no one’s attention but my own. Now this joy would surely be gone.
I drug my trusty tripod into the brush and realized I never once had to bug-bomb, caulk, repair, or swing a paint brush on behalf of the old boy. As I stood him in a stand of live oak I spied a petrified raccoon turd stuck to his swivel seat – a tear came to my eye.
But as all good things must come to an end, it was time for a new era to begin. We passed around the cold ones, admired our handiwork, and as the mid-day sun pushed the temperature northward we did as all good Texas hunters do – made for camp and the afternoon nap.
I lay in the trailer attempting sleep, second-guessing the tripod’s early retirement. Then predictably, the afternoon quiet eroded quickly into the full-tilt snore-fest I knew so well. I questioned my decision no more.
Then somehow I drifted off, picturing myself curled up on my new blind’s floor, wishing I had opted for the two-man model.
Tripp Holmgrain is an avid outdoorsman and has never heard himself snore.
Posted by ACC (Member # 903) on September 26, 2006, 09:55 PM:
![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
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