And for a final morning, we head out to feed up the stands. Most of the stands had been hit, with only a few that looked like they weren't touched. With temperatures forecast to be a bit cooler than the previous day, it was hopeful that activity would be good for a final day of hunting.
Back at the lodge, we talked outside, enjoying the nice weather. Some napping, a walk down to the river for some physical activity to break up the lollygagging. Then it was off for the final hunt of the week.
I was put on the back stand by Kyle's house. I almost always see tons of deer in this area, and have seen hogs several times. I'd have to think about it quite a bit to remember how many hogs I may have taken from the stands by Kyle's house; the hog activity looked good though.
It takes me a few minutes to get everything situated. The blind has a very comfortable chair that is very easy to sit in quietly.
Having hunted hogs with Rick for over 10 years now, every year is fun, but different. This year has probably been more fun than most, but I couldn't say why. Rob, Jessie and Cody may not be coming back next year - I'll miss hanging out with such good company.
And as I'm looking at the hunt winding down, I know what may come next. Despite the crazy hot South Carolina temperatures, winter is still likely to rear its ugly head. I'll head home to the potential for the monotonous, feral ugliness of late winter and early spring. Hunting seasons will be in the rear view mirror, but with spring and summer motorcycle adventures seemingly off forever on the horizon. It may not be that bad, yet mentally preparing for it can be prudent just the same. But maybe not, maybe being morose is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
I put these thoughts out of my mind. I still have an evening to hunt. I have a drive home to (hopefully) enjoy - and other adventures are always being planned.
The afternoon is still. The box blind I am in is tucked away from it all making it serene, especially compared to the stands nearer roads where people are driving by. But with basically no wind, it is almost deafeningly quiet.
Quiet describes the afternoon. No wind. No deer. Sadly, no hogs.
As things start to get dark, I bring my gun up in case things happen quickly. This puts my phone out of reach and I can hear it vibrate telling me text messages are coming in. I wonder if this means someone has gotten one, but with the phone out of immediate reach, I stay concentrated on what is outside my blind.
Darkness falls with nothing in the area. Sadly, nobody else got a hog either. This has likely been one of the toughest years of hog hunting. I'm lucky to be going home with one.
We all get picked up and eat leftovers for dinner. I sign up again for next year; I'm not quite sure how winter would proceed without a trip to South Carolina. We BS for a while before turning in.
Everyone in camp has quite a drive ahead of them.
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I'm out the door near 4:00 to head home. The temperature is cool with a little bit of fog.
The drive passes quickly as I'm listening to the rest of A Voyage Long and Strange.
Rain spits at me a few times throughout the first half of the drive, with brief periods of moderate rain.
Traffic remains tolerable throughout most of the day. Interstate 26 comes to a standstill near Asheville. I'm able to squeak off an exit, and take some smaller roads for a few miles before reentering the freeway. Breaking up the interstate this way actually helps the drive to some extent.
A Voyage Long and Strange is really good. It falls into the camp of books I really like: non-fiction, but where the book is about the author as much as the subject. It is a bit frightening how much mis/under-information exists about the early European exploration of North America. Mr. Horwitz paints a picture of the Spanish explorers of the South and West so much more interestingly than history teachers did in school.
As happens too often, I get gas in exactly the wrong spot, paying $2.40 a gallon between areas where I see it for around $0.30 cheaper.
I finish the drive listening to a few RadioLab podcasts, before slogging through the radio for the final leg of the drive home. Trump's inauguration was on NPR. One of the things I like being on these adventures is that I totally ignore the moronity of the news while I'm gone. A presidential inauguration is a harsh way to start to come back to reality.
Back at home, I unpack and clean up. I'm too tired to take care of the hog meat, but it will sit contentedly on ice for another few hours.
Pig camp always goes by fast, but at the same time, the hotel stay a week previous seems very far in the rear view mirror.
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