First off, for those of you PETA inclined, this post will upset you big time so
best ? to simply turn back now…….Those who hunt or fish, read on. For the rest of you I’d like to hear whether you hunt, fish, or heck even have
Sex ? too. Tossing in the sexual tidbits to keep you non-hunters interested.
Welp, it’s that time of year again, fishing naturally a 365 day a year gig, yet hunting and trapping season has started here in the northern mid-west and with bow season upon us Oct. 1st, Small Game having begun on Sept. 15th and Early Goose Sept. 1st, figured it’s a good time to talk about my only other passions being hunting and fishing.
As to fishing though I trout fish up north and naturally other cold/cool/warm water species here on the great lakes and the various lakes in the area, what I really like is offshore fishing for Billfish (Marlin, Sailfish, Swordfish, Spearfish) as you can see in my avatar……Now don’t get me wrong, a large Bass or trout on a light line weight fly rod is great, and it can make for some fun when in the middle of Federal Land a couple guys come upon your bare ass on a trout stream. Yet there is nothing quite like being on the open ocean where you can be buck nekkid without a hitch, have a few beers and play all you want (and yes I mean sexually as a big offshore boat is like a party palace)…..Then when a line goes tight, shove the guy off you and start pulling in a 1,000 pound fish (and yes, fighting chairs make for great Sex ? chairs).
Before those of you non-outdoorsy get bored, know on our boats or anywhere we go we have a few strict rules for catching fish. Those that don’t like them don’t go, those that do yet don’t follow them get locked in the makeshift brig until willing to not only abide by them yet then pay penance.
1. Women are NOT allowed to wear any clothing, men encouraged to do the same. It’s a PROVEN fact (as we’ve tested it) that clothing on women when trying to catch fish scares them off….Without exageration numerous times (and yes I realize it was just pure coincidence), some gal wouldn’t take off her bottoms and the second she did…fish on!
2. Women are not allowed to have their knees closer together then 1′. Again it’s a proven fact (see above) that thighs rubbing together make a noise that scares fish.
3. Bar must be stocked with all liquors and beers that would be needed if stranded for a week.
4. Men are not allowed to use the head to urinate. They tend to bounce around from the waves and I’m not mopping it up.
5. Those so inclined are encouraged to blow "Fish whistles" to call in fish….(slang term for a spliff).
6. A hangover is not an excuse to go inshore, nor is sea sickness. Any chumming you must do goes out the back.
7. The more Sex ? going on, on the boat the better luck you’ll have (proven).
8. First woman to get laid once past the drop off gets to fish first or can hand it off to her choice. Women having Sex ? at the drop off then get subsequent choices dependant upon their partner(s) order ? of orgasms (first gal to make a guy/gal cum goes second and so on)…After all those turns have been used or passed on a deck of cards determines the subsequent order ?.
9. The fighting chair when not in use fighting a fish is a designated Sex ? chair. If you’re in the chair and are approached, you give it up (Sex ?) period, and retain the right to keep it. If a fish gets hooked you must vacate the chair that second.
10. If a guy gets a fish ALL gals must take a 60 second turn blowing his horn in a row. The number of turns it takes determines the minimum likely catch for the day. If a gal gets a fish she can select any onboard to service her immediately after (few do, you’re too tired hehe).
11. If a gal is caught coming down the ladder by someone going up, on the ladder she must either get fucked or eaten (one going ups choice). If a gal is going up the ladder with a guy/gal coming down, she must blow/eat.
12. Anyone passed out or asleep is fair game for any and all. Pass out on your back the usuals. Pass out "butt ? up" and well…..You can guess.
13. The Captain gets Sex ? on demand.
Those are real and a few of the "written" rules on our boat and are applied on those we rent….Surprisingly we have time to catch fish.
See, this is not all about fishing *grin*
1,000#??!! Yep, they even get upwards of 1,500+#. Though my best ? to date only a 736# Pacific Blue Marlin on heavy tackle, and an estimated 300# PBM on a fly rod, there is a grander out there with my name on it…One day though I’ll never know the weight only doing catch and release now. To get some perspective on what I’m talking about….
This is bait, a "tiny" lure shown in the inset, live bait being held up by the guy:
and this a semi-recent exceptional example that made the news ? due to how it was tagged by Guy Harvey as what I go after:
Lastly here’s my dumb ass reeling in my very first Marlin. In fact, the very first time I went offshore fishing (an Atlantic Blue male ?)….a baby at 8′ and roughly 200# taken on a rented wooden boat that even used bamboo poles as outriggers!….Made you feel like you were fishing in the days of Hemmingway and Zane Grey.
(and yes my boobs were smaller, first set of enhancements of 3):
If anyone ever tells you they hooked a Marlin/Tuna/Wahoo/Etc., know they are LYING TO YOU if they say it was their first ever. They are lying in the regard that they say they hooked the fish, yet truth be told the "fish hooked them"….enough fishing or I’ll spend 10 pages posting stories, lets hear yours!. It’s hunting season WOOT! So how about some of that?
Now I myself hunt for about anything except big cats and wolves (too few apex predators though have taken 1 Bobcat). That includes waterfowl, upland game, small game, Wild Turkey, all done with a gun or bow…and yes I said bow as I’ll hunt Pheasent even with my trusty recurve and do fairly well (hit maybe 1 out of 10-15 with a bow)…Geese on a bow is much easier, had no luck with ducks though however have taken one Roughed Grouse that way…So for the most part it’s guns for birds, yet some bow and arrow, and almost exclussively the bow for small game & turkey.
I’m rather fortunate in that here on our property, if it lives in the state at all (except Elk and Bear), we have it. Now that makes for some nice warm weather days for me (though I prefer hunting when it’s cooler), as I just simply tie my knife to my thigh, throw some leather thongs around my neck to tie up and carry what I get, pick up my bow and slip my quiver of arrows over my shoulder and dressed in my usual….not a friggin thing so yes nude….I’m-a-huntin *BIG grin*
So after summer is done come fall I’m in the woods daily hunting not just wandering about as usual. Some days I’ll take one of my guns yet rarely, yet either way who cares I’m outdoors.
Now come October 1st the whole thing changes….It’s big game time for me. In the past I’ve taken Elk, Black Bear, Caribou, Russian Boar, Feral Hogs, Pronghorn Antelope, Mule & Whitetail deer along with a few other assorted critters. Later in the season when it gets too cold to go totally native (nude) or when getting frustrated my scouting not paying off I use my bow……..However, early season when warm enough I use something way out of the norm for most having learned it via some rednecks back south for bear and then again with my husbands brother, and that is using a lance.
For bear sadly it was a matter of using dogs (why I only use bow for bear now as it didn’t set well with me…It’s not wrong just not my bag) to run the bear down then you’d come in to finish him when cornered. For Boar & Hog which my brother in law taught me, it was more a case of laying in wait, then ambushing them though more often then not challenging them. Those that charged and didn’t run (and contrary to popular belief most run) you’d side step and lunge at the last and that only if you couldn’t just surprise them (like that ever happens)…..Now don’t get me wrong, I took only one Boar that way and will never do it again. There is a fair fight and then there is stupid…For me it was just plain stupid (fortunately the BIL was there jus in case) so if I ever hunt Boar again it will be with my bow.
Anymore getting too old for much else I guess, it’s mostly just Whitetails on the lance and that’s about it. So what’s this lance thing?
Welp, having discovered that in bow hunting I kept goofing up, as more times I could count I ended up having a deer just about trample me, it struck me one day as a 4 point buck walked by the tree I was standing against and paused (to which I smacked him on the ass with my hand), that if I planned it out right I could use a lance.
Though I could rave on about bow hunting where you see loads of game and get deer consistantly, I’ll talk about lance hunting as it’s much more intense for me and something few will ever do. (plus for me it often entails Sex ?…So to keep some of you interested….)
A lance is nothing more then a 7′ ash pole about 1 1/4-1 1/2" in diameter, with a 9" spear tip on the end. Mine are a bit different then the other folks I know who use them. First off, I learned I could guide it more accurately if I took some thick hemp rope and tied it to the butt ? putting a knot maybe a foot up. What that does is it allows me to use my left to simply guide, my right arm making most of the motion as the lance slips through the left and by not gripping the shaft it runs more true……
The second change I make is I score the shaft just under the tip with a knife. IOW, cutting in to make a cone pointing toward the tip I’ll turn it and turn it till it makes a thin groove the shaft then perhaps 1/4-3/8 in diameter there. The reason for that is when I lunge and strike, there’s a flurry of activity. Me lunging, the deer jumping, and I learned the hard way later on (having guessed to do this after my first time), that even a poorly scored shaft that doesn’t snap off after the strike can bite you hard. IOW, I want the pole to break as the deer jumps from being struck.
Proof of that lesson being the dandy scar I got when I nailed a buck and the shaft didn’t break and he jumped back at me opening up my cheek from the corner of my mouth ? to my ear as the butt ? of the shaft ripped my face open:
NO WAY!!…BS!…hehe. Welp, nope it’s not. Ask any bow hunter you know how close they get to whitetails. On average 20 yards is the shot. Many will tell you however how the deer was even getting into 10 yards.
It’s called hunting….For some luck I suppose yet those that really get into the bow they learn that hunting is not killing an animal. Hunting is scouting for the game, learning what they eat and where, where they sleep, where and when they travel right down to the very path they take. It’s learning the terrain to know how to ? get in and out not crossing their paths leaving scent, it’s also learning how the wind and weather works in a particular area. Does it slip down into a gulley, or race over crests, do the trees cause its path to change and to where. How scents rise in the morning as it warms following the terrain, and how when it cools it draws them down low.
So hunting, is really learning a particular animal and area…an individual and all there is to know about him and his home. His home, he knows it better by smell alone then you ever could in a lifetime. Hunting is patience and discipline. It’s NOT hunting an area when the wind is bad. NOT hunting it in a way that one particular animal you want will be spooked by you having been there…and that also means not spooking any others as even the chipmunks will squeel on you. It’s about remaining perfectly still, and even down to waiting till your intended prey is positioned right, looking away, busy concentrating on other things.
The rest is just killing………So hunting is all it takes to get right up on the animal and quite often the restraint to let it go when things aren’t perfect.
My days of Lance hunting are awesome. Granted, I don’t see nearly as much as with a bow as I’m going after just one specific animal. Yet I simply love the routine of it.
No meat, fish or booze 2 weeks before season and during. Up a good 2 hours before early dawn (a half hour before true dawn), then I scrub every square inch of me down at least 2x with an unscented deodorising soap. Next comes the salt stone a natural deodorant that is really nothing more then a salt crystal which kills off the bacteria which makes scent and that gets applied to me from head to toe. Next I rub over my skin and through my hair a particular cover scent I like (they don’t make it anymore so I had to stock up) which smells like wood, dirt, apples, nuts, leaves, etc.. Actually smells quite good (had one of the guys try it for cologne one night he said the gals loved it hehe).
Take up my knife tying it on, my fingerless leather gloves, my ropes to help get it back, my rotten apples, and naturally my lance checking the scoring one more time, then out I go into the dark buck naked and feeling like a savage. Next stop my "pit-o’dirt". I’ll get into this black soil and scrub it over me from head to toe. It’s really woodsy or perhaps "loamy" smelling, that rich full scent you get when you break new ground deep in the woods. Lastly now nicely blackened (as with lance I get to do this nude), I then get the semi-perverted jolly of mashing the rotten apples with my feet and feeling it squish all over them (yeah i’m a freak…can’t get past the foot wierdness and yes it makes me a little whet). The reason for that is to simply distract anything that crosses my path. They’ll still smell me, yet believe it or not it helps….Then off into the woods.
Now as I go I’ll constantly check the wind. If it is not absolutly perfect, even if it changes during the hunt it’s over I go home. The wind is everything. You can be seen and if you stay still they don’t see you. Be heard and if you freeze they lose you. Yet there is no way no matter what you do that will beat their noses. So the wind must ALWAYS be blowing and MUST blow from them to you.
If all is well then I’ll head on to my intended pit blind. These blinds I make a good 6 months to some a year in advance (told you, hunting, planning and pateince). All they are is a depression I make in the ground right next to where I "know" my intended prey will walk. Roughly 2-3′ deep, and big enough for me to lay in they have a camo burlap left over them supported by sticks for the entire time to lose all their human scent and gain that of the woods plus get covered by leaves and let the deer get used to it.
It’s now about an hour before hunting time and fortunately I see very well in the dark so carefully I’ll slip into my blind on my belly, get the lance set in place and simply let the woods relax and wake up. Oddly, even on cool mornings it feels warm in there which is nice as most days I’ll be a bit chilled and my nips could cut glass at that point…….and ever so slowly you see the world come alive. Silence gives way to animals and birds slowly waking, things beginning to move and finally that morning twilight breaks signalling the start of hunting time.
Now to help this post be a little on topic for the forum I’ll tell you yes, quite a few times I can’t help myself and have whiled away my time with my breasts, belly and thighs grinding into the black soil and slipped my hands under me and probably stupidly knocked out a pretty good orgasm. I say stupid in that after all that work to get as scent free as possible, it’s my guess that Pussy ? juice and whatever sweat gets made doesn’t help….Yet screw it, if you were out there with me you’d be trying to fuck me (or so I would hope) so what the hell hehe. It just feels right, and it’s one of the few times I really feel super horny no doubt just the excitement of the potential day to come.
Anywho, just before time I’ll get set. The lance gets extended out of the blind maybe 1-1 1/2′, I’ll position my body to aid in lunging much like a sprinter and ever so gradually redig my holes in the ground with my toes to have a good solid bit of earth to launch myself from. Now the lance is resting though the rope is set right where my right hand will naturally fall….and dependant upon when I think the deer will come through determines if I relax or not.
If I expect him first light, I’ll get set and remain that way my left hand far forward on the shaft my right gripping the rope and it pulled taunt. If I however expect him say 3 hours later I’ll relax and enjoy the show….and yes, it’s difficult keeping myself from wanting to knock another orgasm out…..Yet in either case I remain unmoving though I can’t be seen, only my eyes will move glaring out of the blind.
Now many days end up where for whatever reason the buck or doe I intend to take does not come by. I learned the hard way however to NEVER pass up a gift. Every day I go out, I pray to experience the miracle (will talk on that later). Never have I been let down. More so, God has also been generous enough with me that EVERY time I pray to just be able to see a deer I do…..and more so, when I’m getting frustrated and get greedy praying to get a chance at a deer I ALWAYS do.
Now it has been PROVEN to me there is a God. I’ve always taken the generousity he has shown me during these times as his way of simply reminding me he’s still there and I’m not forgotten. However, I’ve also been an ungrateful little bitch a number of times. I prayed, he answered GENEROUSLY, and then like some petulant child I refused his gift wanting a different or bigger deer waiting instead for "the one" passing up what walked right to me and positioned itself better then I could of wished for………Now that was let slide a few times, yet there came a day when my insollence was no longer allowed and sure enough….Nothing.
So I have learned my lesson and no longer am an ungrateful cunt…Yes I said cunt as I’m ashamed and these times not just coincidence. So when a gift is given me large or small, a buck or doe, I take it gratefully.
Now as I said I plan this out well, yet things happen. Might be weather, might be some doe he’s chasing elsewhere, might be he’s in a fight, or who knows what yet out of maybe 10-20 days a year hunting like this I’ll get only one chance (as I now take the first). Might be the first day, might be the last to even not at all. Yet on average I’d guess figuring up all the years I suspect for 5-10 days hunting like this I get a deer. Trouble is if I hunt a blind today I’ll not hunt it again for 3. So that means I must move to another and adjust my schedules (as remember I’m hunting a specific deer so must set up time wise based on when he’ll be there).
Anywho…..If all goes well here’s what happens.
I’ll hear him first and know a deer walks softer then a chipmunk. At that point I dig in and set. My eyes start scanning in the direction of the sound, and let me tell you 2 minutes can feel like 30. The second I see him/her I know instantly from where they are at if I’ll get a chance as they’ll always follow rather specific paths. Then I’m forced to endure the "walk 3 steps, stop, look around, smell, listen, wait….walk 3 steps, stop, look around, smell, listen, wait….etc." they do as they constantly check their surroundings.
My heart will start pounding so hard I swear he has to be able to hear it. Instantly I can’t breathe and it takes all I can muster to not start panting or hyperventilating. We’re not talking seconds, this takes minutes and on more then one occasion the stress of it has made me lay the lance down and give up hunting with it for the rest of the year as at that point I want out of the blind freaking out and spook the deer.
However, when I keep calm, slowly in he’ll come. My heart pounds harder, instantly I start sweating and begin to pray the wind won’t shift (in fact, to do this requires a very steady wind toward me, as if calm he’d smell me). As he gets close I’ll stop breathing unintentionally, and at this point my heart is in my throat and I make it a point to look NO WHERE on that deer except his ribs at his elbow.
Eventually he’ll come close…Sometimes he’ll be oblivious, yet I’ve had them come up and even sniff the tip of the lance it by now quivering as I’m shaking all over. Yet I’ll hold my ground and not move, waiting, waiting, and then he’ll step forward…I have to wait, wait until he steps that front leg forward to expose his ribs there as that is a perfect spot for heart and lungs. At the most I may have to raise the tip up 6" or left or right about the same. Yet once he gets beside me it is only then at the last second I’ll do so…..and at this moment the deer is perhaps 3-5′ from me.
When he takes that step I’ll note if he is stopping or moving on. If he’s stopping (can tell by how vertical the leg is being placed) I have to wait to make sure he turns his head away as they’re MUCH faster them me and can literally jump away as I strike. If he’s moving on out of my ideal zone I have to strike if I think it will be a good hit, if not, just let him go.
My toes set deep in the soil, my body coiled back and tensed, I’ll suddenly lunge forward pushing off with my feet my legs, back and right arm all used to drive the lance out. My left elbow will rake over the ground as I lunge always scraping it, and as my legs and back straighten as my right hand is yanked up hard till it hits my boob hard. Literally I am lunging my entire body towards him. The blind will explode from the motion as I push through sticks, leaves and the burlap suddenly bursting open. Yet at that point it is too late.
I’m so close that at the most the spear tip is 18" from my mark, at the least I’ve actually had to pull back a little as he was brushing against it. So by the time the blind starts to move the blade is already through his ribs and into his heart and lungs. The rest simply insurance and as I drive, at the very last i’ll push off to behind him hoping to break the shaft (though have driven the spear tip clean through before).
He’ll be moving in an instant…..yet NEVER have I ever wounded a deer the blow always fatal. What’s VERY different from bow hunting is I’ll often shoot a deer with an arrow and they might jump or flinch from the noise, yet unless the arrow strikes a large bone passing through (as I ALWAYS get lung and very often heart) often they’ll just look around and some will even go back to eating the acrons they’re picking up not even realizing they’re hit. In a couple seconds they’ll begin to weave then stumble, most run, some stay yet in either case they’re passing out PAINLESSLY.
I’ll save you the details of how any animal or human expires. It’s a lot of reflex already passed out, yet it’s important if you hunt to see this on occassion to realize the gravity of what you have done….taking a life, and it is a hard, hard thing to witness yet it is your fault so deal with it as it is only right.
With a lance however it’s never a silent affair….Always the deer will jump and without exageration it can be 6′ up let alone more to the side. I’ll not even of hit the ground before he’s making a mad dash to one of his escape routes, and before I hit the ground I must instantly go silent and watch and listen to him run. There is no remaining still like with a bow, I’ll scramble up, watch, wait and listen. In time I’ll hear most of the time him fall, and all that comes after. It is only then I get a few moments to calm my nerves and try and breathe once more.
Now contrary to most who let a deer lay 30 minutes, I don’t. I know I’ve killed them, as I INSURE my strikes are spot on. So unlike some I have no fear of spooking him to run farther. In kind if I see him perish that’s the price…..Shame on me if I’m not willing to endure it because I caused it and he’s losing his life. So I’ll gather up my shaft, my bag and rope, and instantly start tracking him by blood and other sign.
Now don’t get me wrong, having a deer perish unknowing that it is and simply fall a blessing. Yet frankly I love tracking. With a lance it’s rather easy the wound so large, yet with a bow and arrow it can really be a test of your skills and I NEVER quit looking till I’ve found my deer. Anywho, I’ll track every inch of his route even if I can see him laying near. It’s part of it as it tells the last moments of his life and is part of all else I learned about him before hand. Yet eventually I’ll come up on him, so still you could be looking right at him and never see him.
Now I cannot help it….Everytime I find my deer I get excited, that excitement ends the second I kneel down by him. I’ve yet to know a hunter who did not pet, pat and almost soothe the lifeless form, and just like many men even do, I can’t help cradling the deers head and looking into his eyes I ALWAYS ending up sobbing….Always, it’s one of the very few times I do. Yet I’ll sob, not cry, yet sob openly for a good 5 minutes as I pet him and cradle his head in my lap.
Always I thank God. I will always look up and pray audibly thanking him for his blessing, for letting me experience another day of life, for his gift of this deer to me. I always pray that God bless this magnificent animal. That contrary to the beliefs of many that he accept this creature unto him. Then I always thank the deer and express how this was not done out of hate, anger, or cruelty, and swear to him that I will not waste in any way his sacrifice and will honor in remebrance of him every moment I use some part of what I’ve taken.
That last not a joke. Every bit of this animal will be used none wasted. The meat, skin, hair for tying flys, tail, hooves, bone, all of him…None of it will be simply thrown in the trash even the suet used in bird feeders. I always respect their loss fully….The day I don’t may I never get another.
Once I calm down, it now maybe 30 minutes to an hour after, it’s time to work again. Now for many gutting an animal is the part they hate most….I love it….When you look at it, the simplicity of how little makes them up inside, then realize you are no more it never fails to strike me how much of a miracle life is. It’s amazing that what is there makes up a living beaing that can do so much……There is no other word for it…It is a miracle.
I’ll keep the heart and liver. The rest will be gone by dawn the next day the raccoons, fox and coyote getting their share. Heart and liver in the bag, then I’ll bind him up so I can drag him. Now I insist on dragging out my own deer always. I might make a skid with branches, or I might just tie his forelegs behind his head and pull them out that way. In either case except the time I accidentally took a 75# dressed doe which I carried out on my shoulders, at 5′-5 1/2" 117# it’s a bit of an effort for me my biggest being a 220 pound dressed 11 point buck.
Yet I killed it, it’s my job….and soon enough is coming the day I’ll have to quarter them taking them out a bit at a time. Usually I have roughly a quarter mile or so to go. Sometimes a bit more dependant upon the terrain yet I always get it home.
Now at this point I’m a sight. I’m sweatting like a pig, black dirt has turned to mud, and worst of all I’m covered, and I do mean covered in blood. Sticking your arms in up to the shoulders in a deer means them and my chest and belly are covered. Wrestling around the innards means my thighs and abdomen usually get it good, and then wrestling the deer to drain the blood usually means the rest of me gets covered even my face and hair as I try to roll him over to let it drain out some…..
Now that’s all good and fine for some folks (the guys). Kathy always runs in terror, she says that is one of the few times I really scare her. I also cannot even count the number of women that have barfed if I take it on a weekend and we have guests. Yet all in all I guess I look rather horrific, Carrie at the prom having a good day.
Anywho, to the delivery door at the kitchens, by then there is usually a crowd looking over the deer and me, though I don’t like to talk during so tell my tales later. Gert and Fannie (our cooks who I adore, both over 6′ and around 300-400#. Gertrude German, Fannie Jamaican, and let me tell you when I’m having bad dreams there is NOTHING more comforting then crawling into bed between them) will help me hang the deer in the game walk in to be skinned later after it ages a little and they wash it out. Naturally they scold me for being a filthy savage all half teasing…..and then I crash mentally/emotionally hard.
I’ll always feel exhausted after….ALWAYS….Not so much from the work yet the stress before and after. So I’ll walk through the house and demand a drink from whomever is tending them looking to me in horror still filthy as the blood dries. Naturally folks tend to get a tad nervous and I guess I take on a rather deep scowl most saying I look like a serial killer. So out to the back I’ll go and drag a chair of onto the grass to be away from folks just wanting to be alone….It’s then that it hits me.
I hate killing. If I could do all of it then have the deer walk away that would be perfect. Now don’t get me wrong, there is NOTHING wrong in hunting….and if you eat hamburgers or any meat you have no right to judge me. Yet I do myself as in short order ? as I stare at the woods too tired still to bathe I’ll feel guilty, bad, begin to weep, then sob and basically have a massive melt down.
Hey what about the Sex ??!!!………………Yeah it’s coming.
My husband is the most incredible man on the planet. He’s a workaholic which sucks. Yet if I’m out lance hunting he shifts his entire schedule to be there not away. Now I’ll not rave on about all the countless other ways this man changed my life for the better, yet I will say how he deals with me during these post "lance" hunt successes though seeming to some cruel, is more intuitive then I could of figured out for myself. To be fair, though I’m rather melancholy verging on depressed as I crash after, to some degree I think I must also take on a look of stern hardness, more to the point I to some look like I’m pissed off or better still am suddenly feeling like a badass (I don’t feel it, yet they say my attitude reeks of it).
The first time this is how my husband reacted. My guess is it worked so well it simply became a tradition. Yet anywho here’s how it went.
Though I rarely get to see him throughout the day, he had I guess heard the buzz of my first lance kill and tracked me down finally outside. Now whenever he says anything, it is always very deep, and seems to always give someone in the room some tremendous insight into something in their life where they need an answer ?. However this day he said nothing to me at all. All he did was simply walk out taking up a chair and setting it in front of me sitting down and leaning back. There I am looking a sight, as said as usual after covered in dirt, sweat, blood and other ick to such a rediculous degree it looks like I wallowed in it.
Well I have my little attitude going, face all streaked from tears, slouched back in my chair scratching at the drying blood on my thigh, and as he sits all he does is lean back and beam. If there was ever a look of more pride I’ve never seen it. He just looked at me. Looked at me much like I imagine a loving father would to a child. Yet laced in that genuine look of pride I could also see one of understanding what I was feeling, and though sympathising I think more proud even still that I felt that way. This went on for a good five minutes, he always seems to know when I don’t want to talk or be talked to, and in those times his expressions and actions say more then any words could……So what do I go and do?
"What?………What the fuck are you looking at?" Now I could see clearly what his thoughts were, yet I’m all bent and want to wallow in my little tude. Almost instantly his expression shifted, though not to one of anger yet even deeper understanding, yet along with it a deffinitely wicked smirk as well. "I said what are you looking at!?"…and that’s all it took.
Now he didn’t hit me, in fact never would me or any woman, in fact I’ve never seen him be anything but kind to all. It took but a second and the next thing I know as the little old bastard is fast, I’m pretty much being yanked out of the chair and flung to the ground. I didn’t even get a chance to say a word or stand up, as the next thing I know he had a handful of my hair pressing my cheek to the grass as I then feel my hips get yanked up high and his hand slipped to between my shoulders pinning my chest to the ground as my knees were just as quickly forced wide.
No foreplay, no gentle touches. My husband rather substancial he contrary to many who are well endowed knows how to ? use it to cause pleasure not harm. So next thing I know his big cock is being lined up then shoved into my cunnie, and to say he fucked me hard and brutally is an understatement. He clearly had no intention of performing as usual. I couldn’t even yell at him quite simply it so rough knocking the breath from me so quite simply pinned I had little choice past endure.
Now I didn’t cum, in fact for me it was rather unpleasent, though I know he did though. The whole thing taking not more then 3 minutes and when he was done simply pulled out, pushed me over onto my side and stood up his clothes filthy from the mess I was. He then quite simply redressed (tucking in his shirt and zipping his fly) squat down and slipped his hand under my cheek lifting my face slightly to look in his eyes……and there it was again, that look of deep deep pride, pride in what I had accomplished, and pride in the fact it meant something to me yet also hurt me to do it. His words simple, "It means so much to me that this hurts you". Then simply walked away.
Now you’re thinking "WTH?"…..For me however it was perfect….It was without question EXACTLY what I needed to have happen and I wouldn’t of changed a thing. As some here may know, before my husband I had a rather unpleasent life, and though we on occasion do the BDSM thing, for the most part we’re like any other couple who has Sex ? with tons of other people (hehe)……Anywho, only he is wise enough to realize what it takes to help me out. In this case that being, having something else to place the self imposed sadness into perspective. Paying the bit of pennance I know I felt I needed to. Having something done that would shake me hard out of what for me can be very harsh depressions, and lastly something that would knock my little hardass underlying attitude down a notch or two before I started thinking like I did before him…….In the end it EXACTLY what I both needed and would of wanted.
You don’t have to understand or approve…..as for me after the fact it was just right and why I adore this man more then life itself.
Anyway……..That’s the end of the Sex ? and sharing those bits just to bring you to this point.
Before you die you NEED to try and do as many of the following as possible in order ? of most important to least:
1. Seriously bowhunt large game learning it on your own till you take one animal.
2. Learn to Fly fish ALONE and away from people.
3. Hunt small game or any other game with a gun enough times you feel you can do it without effort.
4. Take up fishing and keep up with it through your life.
5. Try and take a large Billfish or Tuna….Let it go after, yet catch 1.
Since it’s the season and demonstrates my point more then any other, here’s why to bow hunting.
You must first learn to master a bow and arrow, this in itself demands practice and discipline and gets you outdoors. That done, you will go out into the woods and hunt like a retard. You’ll walk around, sit in the middle of open fields, and continually goof up. However, in the process you will relearn your natural love for the outdoors, and will begin to reappreciate solitude.
Eventually you’ll tire of seeing nothing…Then you’ll take the time to learn about say deer, the woods, their habits and habitat. You’ll also begin to learn how to ? hunt for sign, and once you do will start to form a larger picture of what a deers life is really like. Next you’ll learn how to ? hunt, and discover you hunt for sign, then set up for the kill.
Now you MUST have full intention of killing a deer. Some say take a camera. I say BS….If you just want to snap a picture you will never sit through freezing rain, you will never remain motionless from 2 hours before sunup to 2 hours after. You will never endure the cold, the bugs and the boredom. You must be focussed on your goal and be willing to carry through with it or you will give up.
When you really start hunting…sitting….unmoving for entire days on end, you will think of this and that that needs to be done to bide your time for a few days or weeks. After that gets you no where, you’ll make plans, and eventually days into that you’ll start reminiscing. Once you have mulled over every aspect of your life past present and future, now the real desperate boredom comes in as you count, silently hum, and finally weeks later of this…..Nothing.
It is then, and only then it will suddenly happen. You’ll see things form a vast expanse to a tiny piece of bark or a leaf on a tree differently. You’ll be fascinated by it, stunned in awe and wonder. Everything out there will take on this aspect. You’ll be amazed and can simply look, smell, watch and listen………………Now most men I’ve spoke with say for them it was between 12-14. Women’s ages varied more, I sadly missed out on it all, yet those who have experienced what I did, those that bowhunt consistantly, all agree it is a very specific thing that happens.
DO you remember an age when everything held wonder. WHen you could almost do magic, like look up in a storm and command lightning to flash and that instant it did if you concentrated hard enough (though just coincidence)…..Everything was exciting and new, yet you were experienced enough to feel it…..Everything was amazing. Well, the thing that happens is, you simply regain your innocence.
Innocence has nothing to do with Sex ?. It has to do with you just can’t see bad anywhere no matter how hard you look. Everything is exciting, new no matter how many times you’ve seen it. The world has magic in it again for you……..Yet there is one last thing.
Now able to see the wonder of all things, the rest of your life will change. As suddenly the rest of it you can see clear again, and marvel at it even the worst of times simply now adventure…….It is then it will come to you a revelation that you know to be true. That being there is a God, and he has blessed you by letting you see once more…….Not some religions God…Your God, God the way you believe deep in your heart he is……and it is then you will feel whole like no other time since a child.
Bowhunting is not about shooting an animal with an arrow….It’s about making the same effort of stripping away all the BS of life to get back to you and the natural world. To remember what a clean slate of mind and spirit is….and to get a second chance to live it.
Yet you MUST commit to sticking it out to the end. It really no more then some monk sitting in a cave or on a mountain top months on end to come to their realizations. As just like in hooking your first Marlin you don’t hook the fish, it hooks you…..Bowhunting doesn’t let you take an animal, it helps you take back, refind yourself.
Just do it…….It is through the help of my husband yet mostly hunting I set aside 30 years of a horrific life……I swear to you it will change yours.
So do you hunt? Fish?…..We can talk more Sex ? elsewhere 
K2
