Day 10 – Version 2.0 – You just thought this was over.
Delta airlines wouldn’t be Delta airlines if they weren’t consistently late. Cancelling flights and leaving you stranded in JAX after circling ATL 6 times and saying it’s too stormy to land when the online log shows 3 landed before you and 4 after is the typical treatment fare.
This time, however, they outdid themselves and in a strange twist of fate, gifted me another day to hunt.
We’re packed, showered, fed, and loading the LC to get on the road when the message comes in via the spotty WIFI in camp. You're cancelled. But don't worry, we booked you tomorrow in the cargo section.
Called the travel agent for assistance. No getting out today for love or money. But they found me a better flight arrangement tomorrow.
PH had a cancellation for the hunt following mine just 2 days ago and the camp staff is willing to stay another day.
Put your crap away, grab the rifle, let’s hunt!
Today, it’s the Traveling Wilburys coming straight from the cassette player.
“Well, it’s alright, even when push comes to shove
Well, it’s alright, if you got someone to love
Well, it’s alright, everything’ll work out fine
Well, it’s alright, we’re goin’ to the end of the line”
It's mid-morning already so we go to PH’s summer home near the waterhole to watch for warthog and discuss the evening plans.
This blind looks like an exhibit in a “Go West Pioneer!” museum. Cracked mud dugout floor. Walls cobbled together with sticks and burlap flap material complete with holes that appear to have been cut with an axe.
An occasional 2x4 betrays the illusion that it was built by baboons or maybe drunken 6 year olds.
There’s a large cylindrical lump of monkey crap permanently affixed to the inside of the door flap right where you’d think to push it aside upon exiting. Charming.
Alas, no humidor or wet bar. I’ll try to manage.
Several warty Pumbas trot to the water with their hilarious prancing trot but we only get one decent sized boar about 20 mins before we have to leave. He’s got one tusk broken off from fighting.
PH says we could wait for another but to me, this one has character so we give him the medicine.
In the evening we walk the road quietly toward where we thought they would leave the thicket and mosey to a local water source. Ambush style.
We’re at a type of crossroads that separates 4 hells of thorns.
Listening, waiting, watching dusk fail and moonlight strengthen. A full moon tonight.
Vivid, clear, piercing, beautiful.
We’re considering when technically we enter stage 2 hypothermia when we hear a grunt from the West. We carefully start down the “road” toward the noise and in the moonlight, we see a big dust cloud coming our way.
We duck to the side we think is the best for wind as carefully and quietly as we can pile 3 people into a very limited space.
I put the rifle on PH’s shoulder. We’re both seated. I can hear hoof beats. Excitement builds but we’re betrayed by our scent. These things are like bloodhounds!
PH says he saw a bull behind the 3 front-runner cows when he looked with his binos. I was at least able to see hulking blackness with horns.
Long quiet walk back to the LC was cold and somber but I’m grateful to be moving and warming up. I could have read a book by the moonlight.
No disappointment this evening. I’m just feeling satisfied and full from a really difficult and enjoyable hunt.
“Don’t have to be ashamed of the car I drive
I’m just glad to be here, happy to be alive
It don’t matter if you’re by my side
I’m satisfied.”
At the campfire we were treated with warthog filet appetizers on toothpicks. Simply wonderful.
Quote of the day:
(after being busted)
“You f****** ***** * **** *** ******!" - PH
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Sigh! It is what it is.
