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Title: The Chronicles of a Reluctant Deer Hunter
Colloquial Title: Deer Camp
The Chronicles of A Reluctant Deer Hunter and its characters, settings, and plot are mine. Please do not take, alter, distribute, or archive without my permission.
Deer Camp 2005
10:04AM November 14th, 2005
Every year around this same time I spend a few days depriving myself of sleep, food, water, and heat so that we can murder a defenseless creature, destroy its insides, and consume its flesh a few weeks later. This event is commonly known as “Deer Camp,” and I have participated in it for two years.
The past two years were disasters, and I can’t imagine this year will be any better. Last year we set our blind on fire, which is dangerous because we are in a tree. Then, after a fiasco involving the shooting of Bambi’s mother, I left the gutting tools on the hood of the car when we drove off and somehow managed to roll over them and blow my jeep’s tire, stranding us. It was a fantastic display of stupidity.
The year before that, we were terrorized by bluejays until we were forced to kill their leader, Demon Lord Bluey. They have been out for revenge since, conjuring ghost deer and screaming at one another across our field, warning the deer away from us.
Moon called to tell me to hurry, or else I was going to miss my ride out there and seeing as I don’t know how to get up north on my own, despite having gone there weekend after weekend for years, I suppose I should hurry.
I’ve packed clothes to last me two weeks yet I can’t seem to pack enough. Can I really wear all four pairs of pants at once? Will it even be warm enough? My brain seems to have created a small black hole in my memory of that which was Deer Camp 2004. Like when people experience trauma and bury it deep inside themselves, my brain seems to be defending itself against the memory. I’ve cobbled together more anime than I think we could watch in a week of watching anime 24/7 but somehow it doesn’t seem like enough either.
Must remember to pack tomato soup.
I’m going to die.
2:30PM November 14th, 2005
We’ve finally gotten onto the road for Moon’s house. We took just her car and left mine in the parking lot. I’m already beginning to remember the things I’ve forgotten like toothpaste and alcohol. Not that we would drink, mind you.
Wind is eerily still. I am beginning to suspect that the world is saving up anything bad that might possibly happen just so that it can throw it at us tomorrow morning.
4:10PM November 14th, 2005
Went the wrong way on the highway. We’re going to a place that Moon has gone to nearly every weekend for her entire life… and we went the wrong way on the highway.
This does not bode well.
4:30PM November 14th, 2005
The people at Burger King are retarded. Not just a little bit but a LOT. I ordered a medium drink and YAY they got that right. Moon ordered a number ten and they gave her… the sandwich. She pointed out her plight to them “Excuse me, can I please have the rest of my order?” and they looked at her like she’d gone fucking nuts. Then the lady scooped her some fries and charged her an extra $0.22. Moon is a pansy so she turned around to just leave it at that without her drink but I made them give it to her. Idiots.
Cops are sitting outside the Burger King. Good thing we forgot the alcohol.
5:00PM November 14th, 2005
Spotted stray Australian Shepard on the side of the road and thought it was Hunter. Chased it until it disappeared like magic. Saddened, we left a trail of goldfish crackers from the main road to Moon’s cabin so that it would know where to go. I expect it will be happy to discover we mean it no harm.
Moon says we should have used bacon.
5:40PM November 14th, 2005
Went back to search for dog. Apparently it couldn’t find the beginning of the goldfish cracker trail we left because there was no sign of it anywhere. We went down many roads looking and we even howled like coyotes for him but to no avail.
Surrendering to our horrible luck with stray dogs, we returned to the cabin and found that everyone had gathered there for food and drink. Mostly for drink. I wrestled the dogs and laid on the floor for a bit because their cabin is new and the floor is very nice. Alcohol tastes a little funny today.
7:17PM November 14th, 2005
Settling down for the night. Moon is drunk off her ass. I threw a bag of cheesy poofs at her and she screamed at a pitch I didn’t know humans could reach before dissolving into giggles and snickers of ‘CHEESY POOF’.
We are going to attempt to write to 30,000 words for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) tonight. We’re both around 28,000 right now but Moon is writing. She isn’t coherent but it’s hilarious to see. Chris just arrived to see what ‘the girls’ were up to but he seems to think we’re just insane. Moon is. I’m just a little.
We’re invited downstairs for more drinking and I’m afraid we must attend.
8:00PM November 14th, 2005
Retunred form downstairs drunk of ass. Will wirte more when sobre.
9:30PM November 14th, 2005
Sobered around nine enough to read stories aloud till about 9:30. NaNoWriMo seems to be going well for both of us. Story-reading was interrupted when Chris came back upstairs and opened my computer. Thank god my screen-saver hadn’t started.
Moon and Chris pawed through the porn Moon had gathered on her laptop till nearly ten. Possibly I think Moon is still a little drunk.
11:00PM November 14th, 2005
Dear god, it’s snowing. I thought we were going to die tomorrow but I’ve decided that we’re going to be going so far past dead that we’ll be alive again so I’ve ceased to worry.
12:45AM November 15th, 2005
Bed at last! We finished reading our stories to one another (all 47 pages of each story) and have finally retired to bed with much excitement for… well. Fuck. We have to be up in less than six hours.
5:20AM November 15th, 2005
My eyes are burning, my head is foggy, my mouth is dry and I can’t seem to comprehend why I am wearing two pairs of underpants. And boxers. And two pairs of pants. And five shirts. And three pairs of socks. And where on earth did I get lambskin boots- are they really mine? Why is it so early?
And then it all comes crashing back and I realize that we still have to shoot something and I wonder if it’s really okay to be giving either of us a gun. Moon is sitting on the bed across from mine, staring at me with glazed eyes. It seems she can’t quite figure out why we are awake, either.
My only real hope is that we don’t set the blind on fire. Again.
6:45AM November 15th, 2005
Finally left the cabin. We’re heading for Sue’s because Moon forgot her shoes. Shoes. How in the world does one forget SHOES. Snow had turned to slush and made everything really, really wet. Temperature is probably about -100 degrees.
7:00AM November 15th, 2005
Finally managed to escape Sue’s house with shoes, matches, and a lighter. Why we need both is beyond me, but there they are, sitting on the dashboard as we drive to the blind. We are so, so late. Bill is going to kill us.
7:22AM November 15th, 2005
Bill is going to kill us so dead.
As if driving the car to the blind, which is across the field from his blind, was not loud enough, I think we made enough noise to wake the dead just by settling into the blind. The good news is that we are stocked to sit here until we shoot something, which could be forever in this forsaken, dismal weather.
Our essentials include cheesy poofs, chex mix, heater, gun (with bullets), blanket, this journal, and something to write with. My ass is soaking wet- I probably should have remembered to check the seat before sitting down, considering how much it’s been raining and snowing. I have placed the camera on the ledge of the deer blind and my mind is already coming up with horrible ways for it to fall but I can’t seem to bring myself to waste the heat to move it.
To entice the deer to our blind we’ve used our ‘deer call’ which consists of a high pitched, whining ‘boooooooy’. Last year we attempted the call ‘deeeeeeeeer’ but it only called to us a formidable doe and her child. Let us hope our modified version works.
7:25AM November 15th, 2005
Thankfully we are still alive and I have faith in the fact that this is only because Bill is not in his stand. We’ve heard a few shots on the state land nearby. My hands are already going numb and I can’t seem to figure out why the snow on the ground isn’t melting, despite how much rain is falling. If I open my eyes for too long, they freeze open in the most painful way.
7:30AM November 15th, 2005
I’m ready to go back to the cabin now and throw myself into a fire. I know I wouldn’t feel it and it might actually warm me up. Remind me again why we do this?
No sign of deer yet- only shadow pixies that make patches of grass move like deer. The Demon Bluejays are about, calling and flying around our blind. They still want revenge for when we killed their leader, Bluey. I believe that our only hope is that deer cannot understand the language the bluejays are screaming.
7:33AM November 15th, 2005
Moon finally decided to load the gun.
Says she: “This might work better if it had a bullet in it.”
Still no sign of deer and I think my fingers have frozen to this pen.
7:38AM November 15th, 2005
Our calls of ‘boooooy’ seem to have worked- we’ve spotted a buck about 150 yards away in the alpha quadrant of our viewing space. We cannot affirm how many points but it is a large deer and we can see antlers. He won’t stand broadside so we don’t have a shot yet.
7:42AM November 15th, 2005
After much waiting and pleading, the buck finally turned broadside and Moon got out a good shot. He jumped into the air like we’d hit him in the ass and took off running into the pine stand. Moon doesn’t think she hit it, but I’m pretty sure she did.
7:55AM November 15th, 2005
After a heated debate and scramble loud enough to wake the dead, we’ve finally managed to get all of the stuff we need to gut a deer out of the blind and onto the ground with us. We’re going to investigate and see if she hit the deer or not.
It’s cold. And wet.
8:00AM November 15th, 2005
We’ve arrived at the carcass.
This is the biggest deer I’ve ever seen in my life but it looks like he is only a yearling or so- couldn’t possibly be more than two years.
I know something is supposed to happen now but I can’t do anything but stare.
8:15AM November 15th, 2005
Gutting the deer. That’s what is supposed to happen.
We have to gut the deer. The boy deer.
All righty then… nads go first.
8:20AM November 15th, 2005
After a horrendous struggle we managed to remove the… well, we started gutting the deer. I’m never going to feel clean again in my life.
I didn’t know testicles came in that shape.
8:30AM November 15th, 2005
We’ve cut from the bottom to the sternum of this deer, up through the sternum (if you’ve never cut through bone I can’t express what a truly shaking noise it is) and into the throat.
Then we stared.
Great. We’ve opened the deer and there is stuff in there that we need to get out but… how…
8:40AM November 15th, 2005
After a particularly grueling struggle with the buck’s windpipe, I’ve gotten blood all over my hands and arms from reaching into his neck and all I’ve managed to accomplish is to make a mess. The bullet liquefied the buck’s lungs so the chest cavity was a wash of blood- which is warm but very, very slippery.
We were told “Just grab the windpipe, tip the deer up a little, and pull out the guts.”
The real problem, at the moment, is that the windpipe is sitting about five yards to our left, where I chucked it in frustration when it failed to do what it ought to have done.
We are waiting for a stroke of genius to hit us now because we have no idea what to do since Plan A has failed so miserably.
8:55AM November 15th, 2005
We finally managed to finish gutting the deer. It was horrible. I decided, after a bit more staring at the bloody interior of this animal, that I wanted that liver to go with the heart I stole so I grabbed ahold of it with both hands and pulled. And pulled. And PULLED.
And then it pissed on me.
In all that pulling, something must have pressed on the bladder and this giant, smelly stream of pee shot out onto my leg. It smelled of deer and rut and musk and was awful. Frustrated, I yanked at the liver one last time.
The whole gut pile game out.
On my foot.
But I got that goddam liver.
9:00AM November 15th, 2005
We cracked the pelvic bone, turned the deer onto his belly, and radioed for help in the form of an SUV to take the deer back to the cabin. Moon gathered our equipment and tramped back to the deer blind while I’ve slung the dragging equipment over my shoulder, ready to drag it to where I could be picked up with it.
9:15AM November 15th, 2005
No sign of help. Deer weighs at least 500 pounds. Maybe 600. The grassland flora has grown hands to grab onto the deer as I pass, slowing my progress.
9:20AM November 15th, 2005
I’ve discovered that my boots are not as waterproof as I thought they were. Every step I take (not every step that moves me forward, because most of my steps do not move me or the deer at all) sloshes or squishes wetly and I can’t seem to think past the cold. My vision is blurry and somewhere in the back of my mind I’m being told that I’m not on Moon’s land anymore but I can’t seem to bring myself to care.
9:30AM November 15th, 2005
RESCUED!
Unfortunately the deer tag seems to have fallen off somewhere in my horrendous journey. I backtracked all the way to that rotten little nasty gut pile we’d made and sure enough there it was, sitting pristine and brightly orange near where I’d started.
My boots are never going to dry. My mother is going to kill me for ruining the lambskin ones.
9:40AM November 15th, 2005
Returned to blind to retrieve our gear. Chex mix bags make the loudest noise EVER.
On the way I argued with Moon about safety. She asked me why I wore my seatbelt all the time, as though it were not a reasonable and safe thing to do. What is with people and safety these days? Just because I like to wear my seatbelt and lock my doors at night and turn the stove off doesn’t mean I’m doing anything wrong!
The ride to the blind only seemed to increase my awareness of how badly deer piss stinks. I still smell like musk and rut. Great. Of course, when I pointed out this fact to Moon her response was:
“Yeah, cause you were scent marked. By a buck. Now you could go prancing around in your orange going LaLaLa and all the other bucks would come to investigate cause now they’ll think you are a big buck. … … You have buck urine on you.”
Yeah… I know. Thanks.
9:50AM November 15th, 2005
Hung the deer to bleed out on the deer rack and scooted inside as fast as we could. I can’t feel my extremities.
10:00AM November 15th, 2005
We’ve found beef stew and eaten it.
We thoroughly discussed the merits of making a sign for the new closet that says “The Makeout Closet” because it looks like it would be a perfect place for people to make out. It only lacks a well placed shelf. We agreed to write a story about it sometime.
As you may have guessed, we are so tired we are nearly incoherent.
A nap seems in order.
3:00PM November 15th, 2005
What a nap.
3:30PM November 15th, 2005
After stopping by Sue’s to see if she wanted any food, we left for the bar and a nice, warm lunch. There were not many people there, mostly nasty old men. But then, there’s always nasty old men there.
We were asked if we wanted beer.
Neither of us are 21.
4:20PM November 15th, 2005
Left the bar behind after grabbing some jerky and mac and cheese. We drove up and down the main road for a while with the jerky, calling for the dog we’d seen yesterday but to no avail. I’m choosing to believe that he found a home or a place to stay instead of being shot by irritated hunters today.
4:50PM November 15th, 2005
Fed the leftovers from dinner to our pet foxes and gave them their dinners. I think we’re going to retire to the cabin for the evening.
6:00PM November 15th, 2005
Watched some anime and talked to the others that came by. Bill shot a ‘four point’ buck which was much smaller than ours and had a broken antler. Chris called to say he’d shot one but couldn’t find it- alas, no deer for him.
6:30PM November 15th, 2005
Chris started making dinner but we had no butter. He showed me how to cut and clean the heart and liver I’d taken from the buck. It was bloody and reminded me of how much I need a shower.
7:30PM November 15th, 2005
Dinner is the last of last year’s deer and some really delicious fried potatoes. Made Moon do the dishes. The cabin is warm, the food was good, the deer was taken easily and all seems well in the world.
Awaiting the disaster that always accompanies Deer Camp.
11:00PM November 15th, 2005
Wrote for several hours until Moon’s father came upstairs. He knocked very politely on our door and asked us who was going to own up to the mess in his room. Intrigued (because neither of us had been in his room) I went to investigate.
There, sitting in the middle of his room, was a giant pile of crap.
God only knows where it came from.
3:00AM November 16th, 2005
Moon has completely lost it. She is so tired she’s rambling incoherently and I think that her novel has deteriorated into sex. I’ve told her at least a dozen times to leave it and go to sleep but she doesn’t seem to hear me at all.
10:00AM November 16th, 2005
A strange, disaster-less Deer Camp seems to have passed. It is snowing and cold but the roads are good. Everything seems to have gone well. I am confused, but happy. We are on our way home, at last.
Let us hope that next year goes as smoothly.
