Story Ideas

Well, it finally arrived. The “BIG” hunt, Iowa Christian Bowhunters of America 2nd Annual Deer Hunt. Most of us were going show up at camp that Friday night for hot dogs, chips and stories. I have been looking forward to this for months. I am an amateur bow hunter, only in my second year of hunting with a stick and a piece of string. (Or, as some call it, a ‘bow’). I still get plenty of advice from my fellow hunters. A lot of advice. Being new to the sport, I listen, or at least try too. Any way, I went to work that morning, sniffling, coughing, and wheezing. Great, I was not going to make to the hunt.

Follow up:

About noon, I left work to go home and go to bed. Nothing doing. My wife, Kathleen, was ready with a regiment of medicines. She considerately loaded a large baggy full of cough drops, cold medicines, and other assorted stuff, giving me strict orders to take this, that, and a couple of other things at different times of the day so that I would feel better over the weekend. She explained that I would feel better once I headed out for my big adventure. Fine. I loaded my car with all my equipment. Everything I would need for the weekend hunt. My bow, arrows, tips, assorted gear, sleeping bag, etc. After spending four hours driving to Camp Appanoose, a Christian camp ran by pastor Pat Amsden at Lake Rathbun, (a two hour drive, by the way), I felt much better. I stopped sniffling as much, and was able to breath a little better. It felt good arriving at my destination and seeing my fellow hunters. This was going to be great. I had visions of harvesting an incredible buck, and making my family, and friends, proud. That night was great. We had a raging fire going, friendly conversations, hot dogs, and talk of God, and the hunt. I was glad I went.

Later that evening, while arranging my gear, I realized that after all of my efforts to be prepared for any event, I had forgotten one small item that would hinder my efforts to bring home that trophy buck. My deer tag. Great. I had planned for months. Well, as it turned out, the speaker we invited to the hunt, Rod Peel, was scheduled to show up at the camp the following morning for brunch. If we could get word to him, he might be able to stop by my house to pick up my deer tag and bring it with him. Problem solved, right? All we had to do was call him. It was incredible to see how many people seemed to develop cell phones out of thin air. There must have been at least ten cell phones appear from nowhere. Only two got a signal. All we needed now was Rod’s phone number. Surely, some one must have it. Most of us go to the same church. Well, no one had it. The first call we made was to Chad’s home; his wife Sarah would be able to look up Rod’s phone number in the church directory. No answer. O.k. then my wife, Kathleen would be able to look up the number in the church directory. We called the number. The phone rang once, twice, three times, then after the fourth ring, my answering machine picked up. This was not going to be easy. We left a message on the machine. Someone else called information. That didn’t work either. I guess I was just going to hang out, read my bible and try NOT to act disappointed. Maybe I’ll just go home. An hour later, we received a message from Rod that he received a message from my wife, who had gotten the message we left on my answering machine and sent back a message that he would swing by my house and get the deer tag before heading out for camp, hoping that my wife got that message. (No, I won’t repeat it).

The next morning, I got up to find everyone busy gearing up for the mornings hunt. Two minutes after putting my boots on, I was the only one left at camp. So, I started a fire, sat around, and waited for the sun to rise. It was pleasant. I spent the morning getting things ready for brunch. (What else was I goanna do?). Added more wood to the fire. Sat in a folding chair. More wood. Sat in a different chair. Wood. A little after sunrise, Pat’s father showed up to work on a nearby structure. I jumped at the chance to talk with someone. The next thing I knew, we were headed off down the road to see the home he was building. We talked about God, different churches, and the camp’s involvement with youth projects. I also received invaluable information on the local areas of prime hunting spots. I really didn’t mind missing out on the morning’s hunt. My thanks to him. The Information turned out to be great.

After returning to camp, the guys starting showing up. A few deer were spotted, but no one harvested anything. Rod showed up about that time, and after breakfast, we talked, discussed hunting stuff, and rested for a while. Now I was ready to hunt. Skip Schnathorst, our IowaCBA Secretary went with me to scout the area I was to hunt that afternoon. Skip, Having years of experience, showed me what to look for, where to look for it, and a few other pieces of advice. More advice. I listened intently to his advice on scrapes, rubs, etc. We decided on a good area on the edge of the woods next to a clearing. It looked like the perfect spot. We headed back to camp, and after a couple of hours, headed out for the hunt. I set up a small blind, brushed it in, (another piece of advice.), and climbed inside. I sat there, bow in one hand, and a small pocket bible in the other. I felt relaxed, and sure of myself. I prayed, read more in my bible, and after only half an hour, I spotted it. No, not the buck I hoping for, but a squirrel. A tree rat. It started chattering at me. I couldn’t believe it. The very first time I had ever hunted, was four years ago, and it was for squirrels. I have spent hours looking for the elusive creatures. And from experience, I know them to be skittish, and shy. Always hiding the minute they see you. I’ve seen them run to the other side of a tree, and without making a single sound, flatten out against a large branch, or trunk. Until now. This thing was actually giving me an attitude. Well, I’d show him. I made a motion toward it, like I was going to jump up or something. That should scare it, or at least it should have. It jumped right back at me. What? Were was this thing from? South Central? He just kept chattering at me, barking like he was going to attack me. This stupid little imp was, pardon the pun, nuts. Great, that’s all I needed. A crazed tree rat. Well, I decided that all I had to do was sit there, trying to be patient, waiting out this obviously disturbed little creature. After only twenty minutes (an impossibly long time) of attitude, my plan worked. He got bored with me, and went up the small branch he was on. Hopefully to find something else of interest. Now, all I have to do is sit there quietly, waiting for my trophy buck to come strolling along. That’s all I had to do. I just knew that a twenty pointer was going to walk right into my line of fire, and simply stand there, posing for me. (What? Like no one else has these thoughts?). It was not to be so. Not two minutes later, I heard him again. Just above me. I couldn’t see him, but I knew it was he. In disbelief, I heard chattering again, followed by small objects hitting the blind. He was using guerrilla tactics this time. I was under fire. Patience, Daniel, patience. All things come to those who wait. I tried reading my pocket bible again, waiting him out. He wouldn’t stop. He just kept barking, and chattering, and throwing things at my blind. Wait a minute. I’m a man. I can take this. After all, it’s just a squirrel. Right? I’m a rock. An island. A hunter. Patience is one of my strong points. I’ll just sit here, and………..

Argghhh. Enough was enough. I readied my bow, jumped up to silence this evil menace, thinking to myself that this thing was going to look good on a stick. As I jumped up, ready to pull back my bow, pointing up in the direction I estimated him to be…and looked right into the eyes of beautiful eight point buck not ten yards from my position. I froze. All thoughts of the furry little friend disappeared. We looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of us moving a muscle. I did everything I could to pretend I was just part of the scenery. I thought to myself “I’m a stupid looking tree”. I diverted my eyes, waiting to see what the buck did from my peripheral vision. He dropped his head, sniffed the ground, and I was able to move about an inch. After what seemed like an hour, I was let myself drop on my chair, thinking all I had to do was quietly draw my bow, and lean forward about three inches to get a clear shot. But, as I landed in my seat, I looked up, and into the eyes of a much larger, more impressive buck. This big boy was huge. I had just enough of the second window in the blind open in case I caught sight of my prey from that direction. Well, I caught sight of him all right. Just at instant he caught sight of me. I froze again. I really couldn’t handle much more of this. I wasn’t prepared for this kind of pressure. I have been in this situation before, but with only one deer. If I just pretend to be part of the woods, like I really belonged there, I might be able to get one of these bucks. All I had to do was play it real cool. I had to become one with trees.

Then it happened. “BARK” went the squirrel. “SNORT” went the big buck. “SNORT” went the other buck. “NOOOO” went the hunter. My jaw dropped, my bow lowered, and my heart fell to ground. I watched the bucks disappear. The emotions that ran through me during the span of the entire event were incredible. I have never felt anything like it before. I couldn’t even begin to understand what had just actually happened. All because of a ‘TREE RAT!’ Tree rat? Oh yea, that’s right. HIM. Well, at least I would be able to place an arrow in that demon-possessed rodent. IF HE HADN’T DISSAPPEARED AS WELL!! He was GONE. I couldn’t see any sign of this evil creature. He just wasn’t there. No way. I sat back down, trying to compose myself. I’m glad no one was around. I didn’t want anyone to see me cry.

An hour later, I was gathering my things and heading for camp, still dumbfounded by the events that happened. It was only a fifteen-minute walk back to camp, and after only forty-five minutes I arrived. I should have kept my experience to myself. After telling my story to the guys back at camp, I received some more advice. ‘Oh yea, they do that all the time.’ WHAT?!? Not one word of this from anyone before that evening. Now, of course, everyone went on, and on, and on about their experience with this. “Sure, I listen for squirrels to give away a bucks position”, and “You know, just last week I..” Months, nay, years of advice on things I still don’t understand, but not ONE word about squirrels. “Someone mentioned squirrel calls that you can buy, someone else talked about a recipe for fried squirrel, and so on. Well, about bedtime, and after saying ‘good-night’, I heard a couple of snickered “G’night, Squirrel” remarks. Did I mention I just moved to Iowa from California…. City boy.

The next morning, Sunday, I headed to same spot with a tree climber strapped to my back. I have never used one before, and after spending half an hour looking for what I believed to be a good tree, I spent another half hour setting this thing up. Accomplishing this, I sat and enjoyed an incredible sunrise sitting on a log twenty yards away from the tree stand. Maybe I hadn’t received enough advice, but I felt that with my luck, it wouldn’t hurt as much falling from a log. I watched in amazement as wild turkey came gliding into the clearing. Wow. I’ve never seen that before. What a racket they make. Plenty of game all around me, and I watched in wonder. God truly is an artist, creating such a variety of beauty, and colors. I felt blessed that morning just being able to witness God’s work. I sat still, my bow only inches from my hand. Finches flew in less that a foot away from me. I watched them, motionless, awed at the closeness of it all. I glanced up just in time to see three does appear from nowhere. Now, if the water bottle in my hand had only been my bow, then I would have been able to get one of these fine looking beauties. They passed by me at twenty yards, not seeing me at all. (More amazement). I slowly put down my water bottle, and picked up my bow. I really didn’t try to hard to shoot the does. But I did smile as they snorted and leapt away. They must have caught wind of me, or heard something they did not like.

I came to this hunt to bring home a trophy. And I did just that. I have never seen so much wildlife before, and never felt closer to God than I did sitting there alone with Him in the woods. I brought home something much more prized than a large rack, or a state record. I brought home a heart-felt closeness to God. On my drive home that Sunday afternoon, I smiled, prayed, and gave thanks to our Almighty. He gave me what I needed and not what I wanted. Again, Thank You, Jesus.