I haven’t met a friend of djmed’s yet that roughs it in a hunting camp.

We pulled into hunting camp late Friday. Who am I kidding, the family hunting lodge was a remodeled farm house, built late in the nineteenth century. It came complete with a deer stand at the back porch

We were greeted by Steve, the patriarch of the family who had just had his truck pulled out of a slick spot by a neighbor. You’d think that a four-wheel truck that big wouldn’t get stuck, but I suppose it was more the driver than the truck.

Ok, that wasn’t fair. The truck had started to slid in a slick area near the lake and he found himself between a rock and a hard place. Or rather a wet spot and a tree. Discretion being the better part of valor, Steve opted to be pulled out rather than ding the truck.

Steve had a fire going in the fire ring and beer on ice. Me, I quit drinking several years ago, but to each his own. I have to say they looked like they would go really well with the duck breasts, quail, sausage and venison loin served with the salads and other trimmings that were supper on Friday night. Feel your heart plumbing shut down yet?
Good thing I had my blood work done Friday morning.

The others drove in, one at a time, and everybody stood in the cold evening air, keeping warm next to the fire while Keith tended the kitchen. Keith had brought little Steve, a three year old pre teat, with him.

The main problem the next morning was was getting everybody to roll out.
Lol

I got them started, finally, by taking the dogs and heading across the frozen field behind the house. The hounds had spent the night in the barn, much to Lucy’s intense and vocal dislike. It was only her third night away from home. The other two was once when she violated Rule #2, missing her ride and the Jeffersonville hunt.

The pine were rather clean and we didn’t jump till we were about fifty yards from a paved road. Everybody was stopped at a hog wire fence trying to figure a way across when I saw a rabbit squirt through one of the squares in the fence. The dogs got across and the race was on. I’m glad no cars were coming down the road. Brag killed that rabbit after it continued parallel to the road into a thick vine and briar filled hillside

Brag killed the second rabbit after a long race on that hillside. It was tough getting a shot in the thick. The vines were mainly muscadine that hung at trip wiree height. Every stump was covered with heapings of pills, rolling off the sides and collected at the bottom of the logs and stumps.

But things slowed down after after Brag killed that second rabbit. We crisscrossed the hillside repeatedly without luck.

Then we crossed the power line and walked a narrow strip bordered by the power line and the paved road
Djmed killed on the jump.

Then I killed one after a short sprint down a atv path and around the corner. I had barely caught my breath when I saw him just as he hit the power line. I fired two shots, one in the middle of the line and the other just inside the brush line. I immediately called out that I missed.
The dogs crossed and then fell silent. I hadn’t missed after all. The "call out" that I had was just force of habit, I suppose.
By the way, I’m getting a little old to be sprinting anywhere.

Then Kerry killed his first.
There was a call, “there’s a rabbit”
Then he streaked past me before I could react. We got the dogs on him and I told Kerry that the rabbit would be coming back shortly….if could run the gauntlet.
He could, he did and Kerry was ready.

Then after lunch, a long walk back and forth on the pill laden hillside. The day had warmed up, so many of the heavy clothing had been left at the house. Not a rabbit jumped and the “girls” didn’t show any interest from the ground smells.

We decided to cross the paved road into a narrow thick patch between the barn and the property line. When I say thick, I mean back up thick. I mean get down and crawl thick. I mean carry on a conversation in hushed tones with Brag who I couldn’t see though he was standing near me.

I heard something in the ground debris and told Brag I head something b ut wasn’t sure if it was a dog or not. Then I saw Dixie near where I heard the sound, but it seemed like she was just getting to the place. Brag said that Julie’s tail was really wagging. Then her high pitched “yarp” came a time or two. Then the other dogs joined in and the race was on.
The rabbit was determined not to break cover and raced around Brag and me in the thick briars.
I fired two quick shots as he passed only a couple of yards from me. I’m still surprised I didn’t hit him with that last shot, but a check of the ground showed a hole with the plastic wadding next to it. No hair.
I moved about ten feet, broke off a couple of limbs to be able to get the Fox 16 gauge up and stepped back a step. He popped out less than a minute later.
The dogs were tired, a few of the other boys were tired, telling us that they weren’t in “rabbit hunting” shape. Heck it’s the end of the season and I still ain’t completely in “rabbit hunting” shape
Keith and Steve rolled off to a wild game cook-off at Talladega where stuffed duck was their specialty. The rest of us split up for our own home bases.
A enjoyable hunt. One we need to do again.

Final score
Brag 2
Rimfire 2 (not that I keep up with such)
djmed 1
Kerry 1