With the start of Deer season it also brings in the out of town hunters, city dwellers who want to experience the thrill of the hunt. This always brought in money for our small town. The Hotels and Inns are booked, some of the farmers even rent out rooms for extra income.
Well it so happens that on one farm down the road from me took in several out-of-Towner's for the hunting season. On opening day they all were dressed in their orange vests and hats and packing their rifles raring to go. You could almost smell the adrenaline and male hormone's pumping through them! Oh wait scratch that, actually it's because they drowned each other in Deer piss to cover their scent.
This opening day it was snowing and cold. To get to the destined location they all had to pile in an old pick-up truck. As no one wanted to ride in the freezing back they all crammed into the cab of the truck all 4 of them. So there they were all snug as bugs shoulder to shoulder sitting any way they could to fit all smelling like Deer piss, and did I also mention none have bathed for several days all in an effort to not to smell like soap, shaving cream, antiperspirants, cologne and any other smells that could be considered unnatural as not to scare away the Deer.
Well they all get to the woods and get nestled into their assigned locations (so they don't shoot each other). So, there they all sit in their tree stands and their fields freezing there asses off waiting for sunrise. (which wont rise for another two hours ... such eager beaver's)
Two hours later the sun rises, several half frozen hunters stand ready for the kill. The echo's of gunfire can be heard all across the valley.
Now here is where things get interesting. One of these fearless huntsman has been up in his tree for hours. Question is where to go to the bathroom? So, he climbs down and finds a clump of laurel bushes to conceal himself so he can do his business. He unzips his bulky big orange coverall onesie pushing it down so he can do his business. During his squat-to-pot, there is a rustling in the bushes.
Jumping to his feet his gun at the ready he gets off two shots at a bounding buck. So, there he stands in all his native glory pants and onesie's down around his ankles. Well perhaps it would be glory if it weren't so cold, things have a tendency to shrink.
The mighty hunter missed the buck and is out of luck. He quickly pulls up his pants and onesie. He zips up and pulls his hood over his now freezing head and ears. As the opening day comes to a close some hunters are dragging their bucks out to the road for pick up. they toss the deer into the back of the pick-up and climb into the cab.
Well when this particular hunter climbs into the pick up he begins to tell the others of the one that got away and of course the fact it was a spike in the telling of the experience it was now a 10 pointer!. Soon though, they all start looking at each other as there is an unsettling aroma in the air.
"did you shit?" one of the hunters asked our fearless huntsman.
"yea back in the woods" he replied.
"did you wipe?" another asks.
"of course I did" he replies.
One of the other hunters reaches over to take a good whiff pulling on the mans hood, but when he did so a turd fell out.
"Agh! you stupid bastard you shit in your hood!" one of the other hunters yelled as they stopped the truck and bailed out. when they arrived back at the farm our fearless hunter was riding in the back bed of the pick-up with the dead deer. Never to live down his misfortune as it became the talk of the small rural town.
I think I know now what they mean by buck fever!
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