Some Weekend Items

Went hunting (it was the opening of the general gun season in Texas). I've been invited to this same ranch in South Texas since 1985 and have gone every year since, usually two or three times each season. It's sort of a unique type of deal as far as hunts go. Normally, to hunt on a ranch the size and quality of this one, a poor soul must pony up about five large for the privilege of doing so. But, the owner invites people he knows (and apparently likes) to come down and spend the weekend, though the rules are fairly stringent. For one, no alcohol. He's by no means a teetotaler, but wants to avoid any issues related to the effects of drinking, especially when there are a fair number of firearms in camp. Then, the ranch is highly and successfully game managed, so you have some exacting rules regarding what you can and what you especially cannot shoot--in order to shoot a "trophy" buck (twelve or more points and at least four and a half years old), one must first shoot a spike buck with spikes of at least six inches or a mature buck of at least four and half years old with seven or fewer points. To shoot something outside of these bounds, one risks both a fine and never being invited back to the ranch. In other words, you have to watch yourself and I've passed up a lot of nice bucks over the years because I just couldn't quite see that twelfth point, though I was reasonably sure it was there.. It's been this way ever since I've been going there and apparently some writer is set to do a story about the place--the owner is egalitarian and invites hunters of varying socioeconomic backgrounds--it's not just a bunch of rich white guys drinking whiskey. Thankfully, I won't be included in the article as one of the unfortunate few who ran afoul of the regulations. Anyway, I was down there and spent a fair amount of time sitting in a ground blind along the river bottom with binoculars around my neck and staring down mostly at an autographed copy of Neal Bascom's "Hunting Eichman," given to me by a great friend after hearing the author speak at last week's JCC Book Fair here. Fascinating and ripping story of how odious war criminal Adolph Eichmann escaped Europe after the war and how the Israelis found, hunted, captured, and eventually brought Eichmann to trial in Israel for his monumental atrocities. Looking out of the blind every once in a while, saw some nice bucks and eventually spotted a rare "qualifier" buck as detailed above. Tricky shot but I did my part for the glory of game management. Otherwise, ate a lot, stared into the campfire and then up into the star filled sky, and walked around a little during noontime on Saturday looking for arrowheads. Found plenty of broken ones, but not a winner. I sort of do that whenever I go hunting for the benefit of my youngest daughter who isn't so young anymore. It started when I left once to go hunting when she was about three or four years old and she replied to my question of if she wanted me to bring something back for her with, "Bring me six lizards." Challenging. That was a trip with my now deceased father in law and he and I actually ended up spending about three hours together staring down at the Wild Horse desert west of Falfurrias for lizards and actually found three dead ones. Great and gentle man, my father in law and I miss him--he was never anything but swell to me. Whenever I've thought about that and how much his kindness meant to me, I have determined to be the same to whatever future son in law I may have--maybe that will mean something to the guy(s). Anyway, I didn't find any whole arrowheads (or lizards) this time, but I did find a shed antler and left it in her room when I returned. Hope she liked it.