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The High
Lonesome deer lease sprawls across the rolling hills of West
Texas. This is 5000 acres of untouched land that teems with
wildlife, wildflowers, and unsurpassed nighttime skies of
ebony, abundant with stars of shimmering silver.
It??™s a
paradise made for the male species whether they are there to
hunt, or for a few days of male bonding. Some members are
serious hunters, while others come to socialize in the
wide-open spaces and enjoy nature at its finest.
The High
Lonesome is so remote there is no TV, no phone service, not
even a cell phone signal unless you drive miles into the
high country, and even then there is no guarantee.
In the midst of all this beauty sits
???the shack.??? Yes, it is home away from home with all the
necessities. Nonetheless, the name fits! A total of 10
bunk beds line three walls; there is a small bath, and the
remainder of space is kitchen and eating area. The dining
table is a large handcrafted picnic table. Seating is an
assortment of mismatched desk chairs that swivel and roll.
Most were purchased for a song at thrift shops, flea
markets, or possibly pulled out of Dempsey dumpsters.
Gazing at the ceiling, one is in awe of the decorative,
exposed insulation hanging in disarray. It brings to mind
the folds of a flag as it waves in a breeze.
When ???doe
season??? is over, hunting ceases until fall. Larry, and Joe
(a.k.a. ???Locksmith???) couldn??™t pass up one last trip, even
though the weather forecast was horrid. January in Texas
can be as wretched as any part of the country.
The first
evening they shared a stand named Motel 6. Yes, these men
name their deer stands! (Oh, Motel 6 leaves
entirely too much to one??™s imagination.) There they sat
listening to one another??™s teeth chatter and bones rattle as
they shivered beneath layers of insulated clothing. A
number of wild hogs from the out-of-control population were
removed, but they returned to ???the shack??? without a doe.
After thawing in hot showers, they opened the door to
20-degree temperatures, did half-gainers into their sleeping
bags, and were snoring like buzz saws by 8:00 p.m. They
claim to have slept like babies with the pristine frigid air
blowing a gale through their sleeping quarters, while ice
crystals formed in their nasal passages. Luckily, the local
mountain lions didn??™t wander through the open door in the
middle of the night.
Each morning would find them planted in a different deer
stand; some stands being ground level, while others are
perched in trees. One can only envision tree houses for
???big boys??? to play in! After sitting perfectly still for
long periods of time, they would then moan and groan as they
slowly crawled back into the Bubba Jeep, and returned to
???the shack??? for a hearty breakfast. The evening routine is
pretty much identical, with the added thrill of playing
???musical deer stands.??? If the morning stand brought no
luck, then a change would definitely be in order. And, it
seems all deer stands are not equal when it comes to
comfort. Some are not well built, with wind blowing through
cracks and crevices, and chairs that could destroy the
strongest of backs. Others, such as ones built by Larry,
are airtight and constructed to last a lifetime or two; all
they lack is a commode in the corner. Some stands are built
for two occupants, while others are one-man stands.
Rotating from one stand to another seems to be how it??™s done
in the Texas wilderness, by these great white hunters.
Two days
into the trip weather conditions improved, although the
hunting didn??™t. Still, everyone enjoyed telling tall tales,
eating enormous meals, playing poker, and simply doing
inexplicable ???guy things.???
The last
evening Joe was dropped off at Jake??™s Valley deer stand,
which sits 15 feet high in a tree. Larry headed off to
Boucher??™s Tripod. An approximate time was set for Larry to
return and pick up Joe.
When that
time arrived, Larry pulled up to see Joe frantically waving
his flashlight out the window of the stand and shouting,
???I??™m locked in and I??™ve got to get out of here now!
Mother Nature is calling and I can??™t wait any longer! I
didn??™t think you were ever gonna show up.???
Larry could
barely answer as he gazed upon Joe??™s panic-stricken face.
Through his laughter he yelled, ???Don??™t you see the white
string by the door? Just pull on it! It really doesn??™t
require a locksmith to get out of there!???
Joe spun
around, spied the string, gave it a yank, and the door
magically flew open. ???None of the other stands have locks
like this, and I didn??™t see that stupid string. What idiot
built this thing anyway???? He was nearly airborne as he
scrambled down the steps and sprinted to Bubba Jeep. ???Drive
fast, Larry! I??™m not jokin??™??¦???
Away they
went, but within seconds Joe had broken into a cold sweat.
Larry was driving like a lunatic over the rocky terrain, and
the old Bubba was clangin??™ and bangin??™ like a bucket of nuts
and bolts. ???Stop this thing right now ??“ my time is up!???
Joe stammered. He launched himself out of Bubba before they
even came to a full stop. The last thing Larry saw was Joe
heading into some scrubby brush, while removing layer after
layer of clothing. His outer coat went one way, and within
a few steps a lighter weight jacket was tossed the other
direction; then a sweatshirt went soaring into the air and
landed in some bushes. As he vanished from sight, Larry
could see him struggling with the straps on his overalls??¦??¦??¦
Once Larry
regained control and dried his eyes, he realized Joe had one
more problem. He reached into the back of Bubba, grabbed a
5 pound coffee can, and followed the trail of clothing.
When he finally spotted the top of Joe??™s head, he hurled the
can that direction and hollered, ???You??™re probably gonna need
this!???
The can
whizzed by Joe??™s ear nearly scaring him to death in the dark
underbrush, as well as almost making him lose his balance!
???Oh, son-of-a-gun, Larry! Can??™t a man have a little
privacy? This is no time to be throwing stuff at me, and it
darn near smacked me in the head. What the??¦what??¦er??¦a coffee
can? Are you crazy or something????
???Just relax
and pipe down! I keep a roll of toilet paper in that coffee
can so I??™m always prepared. Figured you could use it about
now,??? snickered Larry as tears ran down his cheeks yet
again.
Finally they
were headed back to ???the shack??? with Joe begging Larry not
to tell the others about his ???lock??? dilemma. He knew he??™d
never hear the end of it once he was exposed, and this group
of fellas would be relentless. After miles of bantering,
begging, and plea-bargaining, Larry finally promised to keep
his mouth shut.
All seemed
to be going well once they rejoined the group at ???the
shack.??? The conversation drifted from one subject to
another, and Joe was finally convinced that Larry truly was
going to keep his word. He breathed a huge sigh of relief
as he entered the bathroom to shower. He had just stepped
under the soothing warm water when he heard a deafening
explosion of laughter that would rattle the rafters. He??™d
been had, and had bad! Joe could hear the
smart remarks through the paper-thin walls and wanted to
simply vanish; but there wasn??™t even a window to use as an
escape route. In a matter of hours he??™d gone from being
locked in a deer stand, to being trapped in the john.
At last
report Joe and Larry, who happen to be brothers-in-law, were
still on speaking terms. Little more needs to be said,
except the deer lease gang seems to have a passion for
nicknames, and Joe returned home with a new one. He??™s now
known as The High Lonesome ???Locksmith!???
Footnote:
This is a true story, although names have been changed to
protect ???Locksmith??? from further embarrassment!
?©2004
Kathleene S. Baker |
