We were lucky enough last night to stumble into a great spot in Oconee National Forest. The first dirt road we walked into had a group of trailers and hunters who looked settled for Thanksgiving weekend. Of course, the reason we walk in first is to secure the requisite privacy but also to ensure that I can turn the Tramper-Truck combo around with reasonable ease.
Right about when we had leveled the trailer and were ready to start our fire, a visitor from a nearby campsite drove up. He was very gracious and quick to allay our fears that we had parked on private property not National Forest. He was here to hunt and wondered in which direction we’d be hunting!
John gave us a few nice logs from the bed of his pickup for our fire. We shared a delightful couple hours, looked at pictures of his 4 year old son Wesley, videos of his ski boat planing out at 60 mph, and a competition mud truck he had built. Just plain fun guy-talking.
Later, in the lovely quiet of a forest dark, we heard rustling ever nearer and nearer the fire. After several hours of this and noting the rustling had been downhill to the left, but later heard way off right, I had to investigate. First I used the super-bright flashlight, but it revealed no pair of eyes to give away location. Before the fire died down I grabbed a stick (har har) and walked a bit closer to figure this little rustling thing out. Well, I think it noticed I was getting closer and it scampered right across the dirt road below the gate. I had surprised an opossum, so I let him or her continue on their nocturnal way.
In the morning as we were driving out the little dirt road, we stopped at John’s campsite. He was dressing a dear from his successful dawn hunt. I am no stranger to anatomy and visited for a bit before we continued. I know you can’t sell deer meat, but sure had to work hard not to offer to buy some. Venison sure would have been delicious!