joesoup
Active Member
I went to my favorite Natl Wildlife Refuge, Bond Swamp today for a scout and observing sit. Haha!!
Last year I had some close calls bow hunting in September with some wild pigs. That adventure wound up with me hauling 30lbs of gear through the nastiest, wettest, swampiest woods you can imagine. It would walk five steps and hit mud up to my knees. This went on for 1/2 mile until I found my lost butt back to the trail leading in. Swamp 1, Joe 0.
Well today was a beautiful afternoon with a quick evening shower to cool things off a bit. I walked about a quarter mile in and saw a pleasant looking opening in the area I had wanted to walk in. I stepped off the trail and hit a wet spot and stumbled over some pig sign. I get into the tree line 20' and see a patch of mud between me and a nice dry area leading into some oaks
One step, to my ankles and firm underneath that foot, Okay, fine I tell myself. One more step and I am up to my belly button in stinky slimy runny mud that smelt like a pigs butt. I believe the only thing that slowed me down was my backpack. Ohh crap, my phone, ohh crap my pistol, dang it my keys, my wallet. I just had to laugh to keep from cursing.
I threw my pack off and pulled my muddy tail out by a 2" sapling like climbing the rope in gym class. It was embarrassing how long that took. By the time I got to dry land, after hands and knees crawling to get there I looked about like the pigs I was wanting to see tonight.
Fool me one day, shame on you. What a fool I felt like walking back to my truck. No towel, nothing to wipe off with or keep that muck off my seats. Dang it! My boots were full of something wet and nasty as crap and I couldn't take them off or my truck would be a disaster inside.
So.....I took off my shirt, turned it inside out, put that in the seat and pulled my pants down to my boots so as not to get muck everywhere. I was forced to ride home in shame, exposed in my skivvies, hoping no one looked in my truck on my way to the house.
Swamp 2, Joe 0. Until next time my beautiful nemesis.
Last year I had some close calls bow hunting in September with some wild pigs. That adventure wound up with me hauling 30lbs of gear through the nastiest, wettest, swampiest woods you can imagine. It would walk five steps and hit mud up to my knees. This went on for 1/2 mile until I found my lost butt back to the trail leading in. Swamp 1, Joe 0.
Well today was a beautiful afternoon with a quick evening shower to cool things off a bit. I walked about a quarter mile in and saw a pleasant looking opening in the area I had wanted to walk in. I stepped off the trail and hit a wet spot and stumbled over some pig sign. I get into the tree line 20' and see a patch of mud between me and a nice dry area leading into some oaks
One step, to my ankles and firm underneath that foot, Okay, fine I tell myself. One more step and I am up to my belly button in stinky slimy runny mud that smelt like a pigs butt. I believe the only thing that slowed me down was my backpack. Ohh crap, my phone, ohh crap my pistol, dang it my keys, my wallet. I just had to laugh to keep from cursing.
I threw my pack off and pulled my muddy tail out by a 2" sapling like climbing the rope in gym class. It was embarrassing how long that took. By the time I got to dry land, after hands and knees crawling to get there I looked about like the pigs I was wanting to see tonight.
Fool me one day, shame on you. What a fool I felt like walking back to my truck. No towel, nothing to wipe off with or keep that muck off my seats. Dang it! My boots were full of something wet and nasty as crap and I couldn't take them off or my truck would be a disaster inside.
So.....I took off my shirt, turned it inside out, put that in the seat and pulled my pants down to my boots so as not to get muck everywhere. I was forced to ride home in shame, exposed in my skivvies, hoping no one looked in my truck on my way to the house.
Swamp 2, Joe 0. Until next time my beautiful nemesis.
