Felt strange standing in the woods in December, skies looking like December, but the forest floor looking mor like a frosted late October.
Stood at one of my 3 favorite late season posts, until around 9, once the wind picked up. Sidelock in hand, it was time to wander into new territory. I don't let much of my favorite areas go undiscovered, but I happened to note that I had never set foot over a ridgeline due north of my position. Curiosity got the better of me.
I made my way across the draw, crossing a few great deer runs (the reason my post is near here..) and struggled through the crunchy leaves, and plentiful raspberry thickets.
Ascending up the ridge, I started to notice more details of the grounds, like another abandoned horse trail, old logging skid runs, and how mature the timber was the closer to the peak I got.
No sooner than having my feet planted firmly at the top of the ridge, I picked up movement in the briars 50 yards infront of me. Two large does slowly getting up and bounding gracefully, yet a touch lathargicly. The first deer I have seen while hunting in over a month.
I couldn't even get the barrel to point at them. The gun was up, not shouldered, thumb on the hammer, ready to pull back.
I just stood and watched as they escaped deeper into the timber.
I will take it as a win today.