Shorty Michigan Trip - Corona-what?

 Not long after moving into the current house, a pigeon took residence on the back deck.  At first I thought it was an odd-looking dove as there are no shortage of mourning doves in the area, but it was clearly a pigeon.  Having moved from an area (although still rural) where houses were relatively close, to a house on acreage, I was a bit perplexed as to where an urban-dwelling bird may have come from.  More than that, I was unhappy that this pigeon had decided to crap all over the place.  These weren't minuscule song-bird craps easily washed away in the rain either - but huge emu-sized turds that piled up in the corner where the bird seemed to hang out.  After a few weeks of this, I snuck out onto the deck one afternoon and shot the misplaced bird with a pellet gun.  There was a puff of feathers; it was over quickly.

I've been wrestling with some of those big questions recently.  I guess this is due to it being a milestone year on several levels.  I'm only a month away from having worked at my company for 25 years.  After a bit of a rough start, things have arguably gone well.  But 25 years is hard to comprehend.  It was almost exactly 10 years ago when we started the process of moving to the new house.  I still remember what it was like to move here; I still love it, although the elation has been tempered by familiarity.

There is our good friend coronavirus - it has taken over the world.  I miss travel.  I miss planning.  I have lots of time for thinking but concentration seems to be lacking.  I have time for reading, but tackling anything longer than what would take a weekend seems incomprehensible.  While I dearly love the routine - sometimes too much - I miss the clarity that comes from disruption to the routine.  I dislike that current events is dominated by exactly and only three things:  coronavirus, racial protests, a despicable looming election.  I was in a bit of a funk at the end of February and the coronavirus gave me something else to think about.  But the subsequent (recent) crash feels like a slow-motion free fall.

I've been streaming Miami Vice since getting a real internet connection.  The show has held up well, but it is terrifying that I was watching it 35 years ago.  The music and cinematography, while still revolutionary, can be nostalgic in a very unsettling way.  Seriously ... 35 years ago.

I needed some kind of break so I contacted a few friends from Michigan and asked if I could stop up to see them for a bit.  I have no idea what the COVID-rules are, so I wanted to keep it short.  My mom is a bit isolated due to this so I definitely wanted to see her, and I was hoping to see my brother and his family if possible as well.

A few weeks after I shot the pigeon on my deck, I was talking to one of my new neighbors.  He mentioned he has pigeons that he trains for aerobatics.  Gulp.  "Are these valuable birds?" I asked.  That neighbor is now getting divorced.  I don't think in the last 10 years I ever saw his wife except in her car as I was walking the dogs.

This pigeon story is a total non sequitur.  But then again, nothing really makes sense this year.

Up well before light I took my time getting ready to leave.  I wasn't too keen on leaving in the dark, but I hated sitting around as well.  I also reasoned that I knew the early roads really well - of course so do the deer.  I was heading down the driveway right around 5:30.  Just at the top of the hill by the train tracks I saw a deer running to the right.  Body language was clearly that of a buck, although I didn't get too good of a look at it.  Be careful Beagle...

I continued on, motorcycling down roads I very frequently bicycle on.  I can see my eyes reflected in my helmet.  I do not like this.  Some creepy bastard staring back at me.  Once I notice them, it is hard not to see them.

But temperatures are near perfect and on a Saturday morning there is no other traffic.  With just a hint of humidity it is nearly perfect.  I fall into the rhythm of the road quickly.  The Triumph motors along perfectly.  I may be yawning a bit, but I'm really not tired.  I decide to tempt fate and ride ride past the area I deer hunt.  I see nothing, which isn't unexpected.  Once on main roads it is a bit easier to go faster, and the sky is starting to brighten.

I keep heading north, thinking about everything and nothing.  I'm also thinking about gasoline and bathrooms.  I didn't want to have to worry about putting on a mask to use the bathroom at a gas station when I see a respite spot for the South Adams Bicycle Trail.  It feels like a godsend.  It is a perfect spot to stop for a few minutes.  The trail looks wonderful although a subsequent search shows this initial stretch is very short - less than a mile.

Much like the trip home from West Virginia, I feel almost normal on the bike.  I am once again where I want to be.  I jump on the interstate and head around Fort Wayne.  Most of the rest of the day will be a slog on the interstate.  It isn't my favorite, but it makes sense.  It is starting to get warm, but the sun is nice.  I cross the border in I-69.  I wonder how often I-69 signs are stolen in an act of sophomoric humor?  I work over to I-96 - 69 upside down?  The road conditions on I-96 are terrible and the amount of traffic is nearly 10x what I've seen all day.  Thankfully I'm only on it for around 15 minutes.

I get to the address Mark gave me.  I knew he bought property but I didn't know had a house and he moved there.  It sits in a bucolic setting with a really nice large workshop which he is outside of, "Do you want to put your bike inside?"  Of course!

Mark shows me around a bit and we get to catching up.  It is so easy to instantly reconnect with him.  I meet his wife Susan who is a wonderful woman - I can see why Mark married her.  We eat a nice garden lunch before Mark and I head out on a bike ride on the trail which is about a half mile from the house.  The trail is an old railroad bed converted to recreational use and is mostly-packed gravel.  With virtually no hills it is an easy but nice bike ride.  With virtually no people it is even nicer.  We ride about 30 miles total.  

Humidity starts to build on the way home with clouds looming and distant thunder.  We make it back to Mark's and get everything buttoned up about five minutes before the rain starts.

Dinner is burgers with more things from the garden.  Chris stops over on his Kawasaki W800 - cool cafe style bike.  We all catch up for a while and it is great, although this is tempered by a thunderous headache.  Long past my normal bed time Chris heads out and we all turn in.  As I'm getting ready for bed the Arlo on my phone signals motion on the driveway; I see SO putting on the dogs for the last time at night.  All is well at home too.

In the morning Mark and I get to talking - mostly about travel, but conversation goes all over.  Too soon it is time to head out.  I'm grateful to Mark and Susan for letting me stay during a pandemic.  I work my way south and east, stopping to get fuel at the station I bought frequently from during high school.  The area looks nearly unrecognizable; it feels weird, almost twilight zone-ish.

Once at John's house we sit outside - coronavirus safety, Mom is just getting there at the same time.  John has made brunch for us all - I wasn't sure if brunch was still a thing or not, but it was great.  The crepes and really good, the scones phenomenal.  They had rescued some baby toads and we spend much time looking for bugs and worms to feed to them.  Neo is a hoot.

With overnight storms moving away, the day was heating fast.  I wanted to be on the road and I it was getting warm for everyone outside.  It was time to head home.  I thought really hard about heading up to where the shop used to be.  But it is important to remember that once someone feels nostalgia for something, that thing is already dead.  I head to the interstate and turn south.  The trip home is a bit easier with the first leg a slog on the interstate.  I stop at the same South Adam's Trail location for a brief break before continuing on.  The day is warm but breezy.  Sunny but low humidity.  I can deal with this.  The world is briefly normal.

Unlike the previous year when I came home from Michigan in a bit of a funk the opposite seems to have happened.  It is a mess-up year and I'll continue to miss real travel - while swimming in extra vacation days, but life is good if I let it be.  And I'm fortunate to live during such a monumental moment in history.  The rest of the trip home goes very quickly and I walk into the house to two beagles that are exceedingly happy to see me.

Coronavirus Crazy Trip Day 3 - Home (already)

Weston, WV to Home:  334.2 Miles

I woke again to a sticky hotel room.  I'm not sure why since the air conditioner was running all night, but everything felt damp.  No matter - it was time to leave.

We got ready and were out the door by 6:10AM.  We wanted to take advantage of the cooler weather; mornings are always the best.  I was prepared for it to still be a bit dark but it was also foggy.  The fog persisted, but decreased, throughout the morning.  I decided to skip any interesting roads and just make tracks for home, taking the interstate up to US50 before heading west.  Much like two days previous, traffic was negligible, but there was a bit more truck traffic.

It was a pretty morning.

And I let my mind wander.  Not that I don't have opportunities to do this during my normal routine - walking the dog, riding the bicycle, even commuting.  But it isn't the same.  

I really did need a road trip.  And golly did the mind wander, maybe making up for lost time.

It usually takes at least a day on the road to mentally get rid of the normal troubles of work and home.  That coupled with the late start and heat made the trip to West Virginia a bit more of a struggle.

The trip home started early morning (as it should), temperatures were very pleasant (even with the dampness) and even the scenery looked better.  Time passed quickly.  The dull headache I've had for at least a week subsided.  I was where I needed to be.  Compared to the last few months, it was a perfect morning.

What I realized is this was the first time since March when things felt normal.  No coronavirus, no crazy work schedules; I was on the road where I belong.  I didn't want to go home.  I wanted to turn and go another direction, any direction.  But this was all BS too.  As much as I might want to head to some distant arbitrary location, an extended road trip right now would not be the same as it was last summer.  All those little things that make road trips are either missing or unrecognizably altered.  I'd miss finding some local restaurant and not even question whether it was the right place to eat a greasy cheeseburger for lunch.  I'd miss walking too far in the early evening to eat a steak somewhere.  I'd miss finding some local novelty to look at, simply because I'm there.  I'd miss free hotel waffles saturated in cheap syrup.  I could end up a slave to hotel rooms.  As much as I felt normal on the road, I knew it wasn't.

We crossed the Ohio River into Ohio.  The day was starting to warm slightly and dry out.

My mind continued to wander.  I found it too coincidental that after touring a defunct asylum, I questioned my sanity for what the present pandemic might be doing.  And I wondered how many other people are going about the day-to-day routine in a similar state - thinking everything is fine but knowing normal is still a long way off.

It started to get dramatically warmer as we got closer to home.  We made our way to SO's work and I dropped her off at her car to get the beagles.  I continued on familiar roads toward home, resisting the urge - for now - to turn the handlebars in another direction.

Coronavirus Crazy Trip Day 2 - Discover The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum

It was a fitful night of sleep, but at least the noisy air conditioner supplied some white noise.  Everything felt sticky in the morning - mostly due to the leftover greasiness of the hot previous day on the bike.  Due to coronavirus, we decided not to take part in the gratis hotel breakfast (grab and go only anyway) and ate Pop-Tarts in the room.  With ample time to get ready, I was slightly over-caffeinated by the time we left to go to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum.

We got there a bit early to get some pictures, but even from the road in front of it, it was hard to get good pictures since the main building is so sprawling.  It does cut an imposing view.

We met one of the owners and she took our temperature as a coronavirus precaution.  She said the previous week there was a couple who were sent away with high temperatures.  There was a tented area where we could wait.  Soon enough other tour goers started showing up for the Discover the Asylum tour which are the only tours they do on the day they have them and they last five hours plus lunch.  Gregg and Amy where the guides as they split us into two groups.  I was surprised how many near-local people where there and how many had taken previous tours - a few people many tours.

The tour started with a bit of background - notably there used to be approximately 300 similar hospitals, and the Trans-Allegheny is one of the few left largely intact.

We started with Amy as she led us through several wards.  Having toured several prisons before (here, here and here), overall the asylum was a little less imposing, but still bleak and restrictive.  I won't walk through the whole tour, but here are some highlights.

Nothing like Home Sweet Home.

Most of the wards looked like this.

Several areas also had large rooms.  These were used for various things over the years including recreation, large housing rooms, etc.

Several areas had patient art present.  The scary thing here is that I could almost see this on a wall at work...

I would occasionally break away a bit and see what else was around.  This scene was almost too eerie.  Which brings up one thing about the tour - it focused a bit too much on the paranormal stuff.  Not that this can't be interesting, but I was hoping for a bit more history.  It was only late in the day when it became evident how sketchy some of the history is with incomplete and/or inconsistent records.

Many areas of the asylum were uncomfortably jail like.  But if we were to look at a Venn diagram of mental illness and prisons, there would be much overlap ... on several levels.

Another ward hallway.

How restrictive the environment was is evident through the tour.

Another ward hallway.  Amy spent some time talking about the many trans-orbital lobotomies that were done at the asylum.  The affects of this can be restorative, but "success" was a sliding scale and likely rare.  What is unbelievably sad is that some people asked for this procedure as the living hell of mental illness could be brutal (hopefully we've progressed at least some since then).

Some of the central part of the main building is being restored.  The work appears well done and much of the decor is period appropriate - if mixed - for a facility that was in use for so long.

This was part of the Doctor's quarters.

The view from the Doctor's quarters was commanding.  

The asylum also had office areas.  What they are hoping for eventually is a mix of unrestored and restored areas.  Having walked through much of the facility, my guess is that complete restoration would probably be impossible in a lifetime.

There were several areas set up to confine patients either for their own, or others safety.  Probably both.

Although this looked a little more brutal.

They also had one ward area restored.  This does look almost pleasant compared to the decayed part of the asylum.  It is easier to imagine how this facility really was designed to help people and the difference to a prison is more evident.

While the rooms may not be pleasant, compared to what else was available at the time (restored to look like the 1910s), it probably was.

If you listened to the Lore podcast - this is Lily's room.  I wasn't sure what to make of the kid's toys (props?).  Draw your own conclusions.

Walking between buildings is interesting just to look at the differences in construction with age.

We opted for the box lunch which was pretty good and a much better option than driving somewhere to eat. 

Then it was time to tour some of the other buildings.  We started with the Auxiliary Women's Building.  From the outside it looks ok.

Once inside, I was surprised they let us in.  But to be honest, I'm glad they did.  Some of the opportunities for photography were too good to pass up.

This building had one of the few elevators in the facility.

But I think I'll take the stairs.

There were many, many bathrooms through the tour.  Most of them have only little in the way of privacy.  This has to be the worst though.

The Criminally Insane building was designed to be escape proof.  And while more solid than the main building, it was apparently escaped from many times.  It is definitely much more ... almost soviet bloc looking.

The door to the building was quite stuck and guide Amy had a hard time getting the door open.  I helped by jiggling the key while pressing the door and got it to turn and Amy wrenched it open.  I joked that nothing was going to keep me out of the Criminally Insane Building - while most residents would have said the opposite.

The building inside is in fairly good condition.  The visiting area definitely looks more prison-like (with good reason).

And here we all are dutifully wearing our masks.  Which does need to be talked about in this time of coronavirus.  Social distancing was difficult, but I was surprised how well everyone did with masks - even the younger kids.  While I may have sort of questioned the absolute safety, I never felt uncomfortable with it in its entirety.

This guy showed up.  So either it was an insane deer, or the overall area has gone through a Renaissance of sorts over the years.

Then it was on to the medical building.  This was the building that I did find quite creepy.  I was surprised that Gregg said it was used not only for patients of the asylum, but as a hospital for others in the area.  A few of us joked that we would have opted to pass on any treatment.

Yes, there was a morgue.  By records, there are about 1900 people buried on the property - in reality it is probably much more.

The remnants of an old steam autoclave for surgery.  In this context - it is horrifying.

We were allowed to go to the second floor of the Medical Building as well.  Condition was not good, but not as bad as this picture appears.  But water damage is considerable.

I was interested in how different wards had remnants of their use.  Almost all the hospital rooms had these same cheap hook/shelves.  I can only assume they were made on-site and possibly by patients.

As the tour wound down, we worked our way back to the tent.  Thunder and lightning shook the area, bringing an almost surreal end to the tour.

I first heard about the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum about five years ago.  I'm not glad the current coronavirus pandemic has killed most travel, but I am glad I've used it as a reason (or excuse) to tour the asylum.  Overall, the tour was really interesting and a great photography opportunity.  In hindsight, and especially with such a long history, some context around 150 years of defining and treating mental illness would have been interesting.  It wasn't that it wasn't included at times, but it wasn't cohesive.

Even though the tour was a bit light on history, heavy on paranormal stuff, I probably would have been left wishing I could see more by one of the shorter tours.  The Discover the Asylum tour is done with experienced guides and it showed - both Amy and Gregg were fantastic.

Putting on our motorcycle gear was not something I wanted to do, but with rain still threatening, there wasn't any choice.  Thankfully, we made it back to the hotel just a few minutes before the rain really started.

Once the rain let up, dinner was take-out from Sheetz from across the street.  It was ready speedy-fast and quite good.

Coronavirus Crazy Trip Day 1 - Hot! Like Really Hot...

Normally I'm in super-planning mode right before a motorcycle trip, but for many reasons I wasn't for this one.  First - it is going to be short.  Leaving mid-day Sunday is weird and means no scrambling in the morning.  The weather forecast is less than ideal.  It is going to be bonkers hot, with the potential for summer thunderstorms.  But mostly ... "probably because you are worrying about everything we need to worry about once we get there," SO says.

I'm good at rationalizing though.  We aren't going to Florida; we're going to an area that on a per capita basis has 20% of the infection rate of our home county.  And as I keep saying, we need to learn to live with this thing.  I guess I just need to believe that.

Day 1:  Home to Weston, West Virginia, 332.1 miles

Sunday started out fairly typical, but after walking a dog around the block, there was too much time to do nothing, but not enough time to do anything.  So I bounced around the walls a bit; we couldn't drop the dogs off in beagle jail until noon.  Our normal kenneling place doesn't have Sunday drop-offs, so we were trying another place.  Since it was only for two days, we went top shelf and got them a penthouse for their stay.  Not that I think the dogs give an eff about the water feature (outside their cage), but it does give them extra walks.  We've only kenneled Tibbit once before, and she does need exercise. 

Eventually it was time to leave.  SO left with the dogs and I finished buttoning up the house.  The plan was to meet at SO's work to drop off her car since the kennel is in the same general area.  

I got to SO's work and waited for her.  It was already stifling hot with humidity to match.

SO got there and said the dog drop-off went well.  She got on her motorcycle gear and we were off.

It took a bit to get around the Cincinnati interstate before getting off on OH-32.  It only takes a few miles to go from suburbs to exurbs to rural.  Once in the rural area, traffic was non-existent for most of the rest of the day.

We worked our way east with the terrain becoming more and more Appalachian.  I checked the temperature a few times through the day and it averaged around 95F with a high of 98F.  I've been desperate for a road trip, so I was enjoying it.  But this kind of heat and humidity is challenging - both physically and mentally.  The less-than-ideal conditions did take my mind off the fact that we were traveling during a pandemic.  When my mind did wander in that direction, it was at least comforting to know that the infection rate was low in the area we were traveling to and through.

I noted the road toward Bethel, Ohio which oddly for a few days became central to the Black Lives Matter movement.  It also proved the rule that there is no invasion without a counter-invasion.  

My odometer rolled into a milestone of sorts.  Going to a lunatic asylum during a pandemic and hitting an evil mileage seems like a bad combination.

Running low on gas, we stopped east of Athens.  I think I chose the bro-truckiest place I have ever stopped at.  It was lousy with diesel bro-trucks and all of them ran like crap despite appearing relatively new.  Maybe I just don't understand.

We joined up with US50 and continued east.  I was enjoying the lack of any traffic.  We crossed the Ohio River at Parkersburg, West Virginia.  Looking down at the water, I was thinking it looked cool and inviting and muddy.

The scenery was pretty through the day and it got prettier in West Virginia ... to a point.  It seemed every rolling valley or quaint holler had some derelict mill or other industrial cast-off in it.  Or perhaps the heat and lack of food was starting to make me have difficulty seeing the areas own specialness.  We were headed hundreds of miles away to tour a derelict asylum so I guess I can't be too judgmental.

We got off US50 and took back roads for the last hour or so.  I was really hot and tired but it was still probably worth it.  The trees were our friends and in many ways it reminded me of our very first motorcycle trip to West Virginia so many, many years ago.

We got to Weston and ended up driving right past the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum.  The building was impressive to say the least.  I definitely want to get there early in the morning to get some pictures.  I thought about stopping, but more than anything I wanted something to drink, air conditioning and something to eat - in that order.

We got to our hotel and SO checked us in.  I got my phone out and noted about 18,534 alerts from the new video surveillance system I recently installed.  Apparently high winds and hail will set it off - quite the thunderboomer had gone through at home.

Our room was nice enough.  I started to think about coronavirus again.  As of the previous day, all of Lewis County had 25 confirmed infections, so I shouldn't fret too much.  Right?

Normally we would have gone to eat at the steak place down the street.  But I walked down the road to get drinks and take-out subway instead.  If nothing else, coronavirus helps us save money.  I got drinks and a Dollar Tree since it was one of the only close places.  My bank recognized it as an unusual purchase and denied the sale.  Having a card denied at Dollar Tree is a pretty solid way to feel low rent.

Back at the room, the subway was good.  The cookies were good.  A crazy adventure during a pandemic was good.

Coronavirus Crazy Trip Day T-1 Week

I think the coronavirus is making me crazy.  There is a lot of noise in my head.  I wish I was kidding.

I want things back the way they were ... before March.  But I also know that this attitude is partly responsible for making the situation worse.

After getting back from hog hunting in January, I had started planning three spring/summer trips.  One is still impossible - entry into Canada is verboten.  The other two are impractical.  I guess they aren't cancelled at this point, but have certainly been put on ice for an indeterminable amount of time.  Even with the company I work for allowing me to carry over more of my vacation into next year, it is still looking like I'll end the year swimming in vacation days.

About a month ago we finally got real internet access at home in the form of fiber directly into the home.  This has allowed us to get rid of our data-cap restricted cellular home service we had been using for most of the last decade.  Progress can be slow.  This has allowed me to start streaming TV.  I'm surprised at how much is available for free (meaning it still has ads which can't be skipped).  I'm too cheap to pay for TV - which is fine since this allows me to rewatch shows from the 1980's.  Some of these shows have brought back memories from then; as much as I like the shows, this isn't always pleasant.  It is interesting to hear the music from the 80's in that context and a bit humorous to see the 80's technology.

It is easy to sit at home on a weekend and think the world hasn't changed.  I live in a rural area, and my weekends are typically doing stuff around the house, walking dogs and riding the bicycle.  Most purchases recently have been on-line and SO has been doing most of the shopping.  Outside of work, this trip will be the first occasion to wear a mask for extended periods of time in public.  I went grocery shopping for the first time a week ago.  I felt myself judging people for not wearing a mask - I wasn't too proud of this.  I don't think treating people who choose not to wear a mask as if they are desperately trying to kill grandmothers is helpful or healthy.  I equally think that deciding to not wear a mask is an act of political fortitude is just as stupid.

I was somewhat mystified by the number of people wearing their masks inappropriately - not covering their nose, or around their neck.  If one is going to wear a mask - why do it half way?

But I'm selfish and I want things the way they were.  Even if masks only help a little bit - they are worth it.

So as it looked like the pandemic was coming under control several weeks ago SO and I decided to at least try a short trip.  I've wanted to go to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum since I first read about it five years ago.  But it is an awkward distance from home to stop and tour en route to somewhere else.  I wasn't sure I was ready for an epic cross-country road trip during a global pandemic, but a short trip seemed like a good idea to test the waters.  Besides, one would have to be a lunatic to travel and do a tour during a time like this - the location felt right.

My own belief - which is all that it is - is that this virus will be around for quite some time.  We'll get initial vaccines which will kind of work, and we'll get treatments which kind of work.  But it will be years until things are under control.  Until then, we need to learn to live with this, and sitting at home for a few years really isn't an option.

The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum was built before/through/after the civil war.  It is said to be "the largest hand-cut stone masonry building in North America, and is purportedly the second largest in the world, next to the Kremlin."  Opened in 1864, it originally was for approximately 250 people, but in its heyday it held nearly 10 times that in conditions which were less than ideal.  I'd say inhumane, but that kind of reinterpretation of the past needs to be done with caution - especially when it originally opened it really was called a lunatic asylum - only later did its name get changed to Weston State Hospital.  It shut down in the mid-1990's and there have been a few attempts to use it profitably.

While I'm not sure I'm completely comfortable with this trip during an apparent resurgence of the coronavirus pandemic, money was spent so we are doing the 5-hour Discovery the Asylum tour.

There is a good podcast which gives some of the history of the asylum here (interesting even if one believes the paranormal part is BS).

(note that this podcast sent me down a rabbit hole of other episodes - so listen with caution)

2020 Hog Hunt Day 7 - Home

Whether due to the late meal, the afternoon nap, or general excitement, it took a painful amount of time to fall asleep the previous evening.  Most likely the insomnia was due to all three factors and more.

But when I woke up a little before my alarm was set to go off, it was time to head home.  I took a quick shower, packed up what little stuff remained and hit the road.
I know the route well by now and had the road to myself.  It started to rain within an hour and stayed on the rainy side of at least damp for most of the day's drive.  Once again Asheville was a PIA incommensurate with how big that city is.

I finished listening to Ian Urbina's Outlaw Ocean for most of the drive.  I enjoyed parts of the book very much, but my criticism from the drive down didn't change since it remained repetitive.  Sadly, he ends the book with another section about Sea Shepherd - this whole book is about crime on the open ocean, but then he ends up playing the cheerleader for Sea Shepherd (although he claims he does not).  I don't want to say it ruined the book, but it really hurt the objectivity of it.  I guess ramming ships while vigilante outlaws play the role of global culture police is OK since the ends justify the means?  Or somebody's means?  Disappointing...  In the epilogue he gives some ideas how some of these huge issues might be solved or at least improved.  Some are thought provoking, others seem grossly simplistic, making me wonder if he read the book he wrote since most of the issues are very complex.  I wasn't sad when the book was done (and unlike some books, it has already been deleted to make room for something else).

The rain made the driving a little more difficult.  I still made good time and even ended up getting gas in the same intersection where I did on the trip down (and several other times).  As I got closer to my home turf, my speed went up a little bit.  I finished the drive listening to Hidden Brain podcasts (about death, which seemed oddly comforting).

I got home to two very happy beagles and unpacked.  I really need to get the hogs in the freezer, but I know from experience that if I do it in a hurry I'll get sloppy.  There is lots of ice in the cooler so the meat will wait one day.

The beginning of this wild hog hunt was right on the heels of going to Patagonia, which was right on the heels of Christmas, which was right on the heels of...  For at least a few weeks, I'm ready to get back into the routine of home and work.  But I know this won't last since I don't have any other adventures being planned.  I'll need to fix that soon.

2020 Hog Hunt Day 6 - Denis is Boaring

After allowing myself an extra cup of coffee, the three of us hunters in camp bagged up corn before heading out with Rick to drop Will off at school.  Then it was off to feed the pig stands.

All but one of the stands had been hit well, so it was up to Rick to decide where we were going to sit.  Back at the lodge, Denis and Claude went out to go to town.  I got in an almost-real nap.
Rick and I headed out to get another trailer full of corn.  These things are always more of an adventure than they sound like they should be.  Rick shared a game camera picture to Facebook of a very large boar in daylight at one of his stands.  Since Denis had been hunting with Rick for some time and really wanted to shoot a big boar with teeth, I assumed this might be where he would end up.
I had just enough time to quick get ready for my last afternoon of hunting.

Rick dropped Claude and I off at the same property where I was the previous day.  I helped Claude get pointed to his stand where I had quite a walk back to my stand.  I was a bit bummed that not only was this my last day of hunting in South Carolina, but also that this would likely close out the 19/20 season.  And what a season it has been.  I had a great bear hunt in Manitoba.  I had my first attempts at waterfowl hunting, and my first duck.  I had a deer season which put venison in the freezer and had one of the most pleasant and memorable days of deer hunting.  And I had two hogs in the coolers - connecting with old friends in the process.  As I neared the stand, my mood changed to one of gratitude.

Before getting into my stand I walked a short way down the road to peak at the corn pile.  Seeing something, I watched carefully and saw it was a buck.  Carefully making my way back to the stand and climbing in, I was really surprised the buck didn't bolt.  While he probably wouldn't have made many hunters happy, I would have shot him if I was hunting deer.

The afternoon was extremely pleasant.  The temperature was nearly perfect at a little below 50F.  The sky was cloudy and wind was minimal.  This is as good as it gets.

At some point the buck wandered off and I had quite a wait.  I was sitting in the same crazy Some Kind of Wonderful stand from the previous year, but it seemed like it was less uncomfortable than I remembered.  Still not my favorite, but I shot a hog the previous year from this stand so hopes were high.

I noticed dark movement on the corn pile as a lone turkey walked in.  It only stayed for a few minutes before making its way out.

After another wait four does came out.  They stayed on the corn pile for quite some time.  I enjoyed watching them and I knew if any hogs were imminent the deer would run off, so it made watching and listening for hogs a little easier.
While the four deer were in front of me, I got a text from SO asking "what I was up to."  We don't chitchat and she knows I'm hunting, so this was out of character making me wonder if something was wrong.  As it was, the text was misdirected to me - so who was that intended for when she should be on her way home to take care of the dogs???

The does left and the buck returned again.  I got a better look at him and while not real wide, he had good height and reasonable mass.  He was nervous and flitted in and out for a little while.

Noise behind me made me hopeful since the hogs the previous year on this stand came from behind me.  Carefully turning around I saw several turkeys.  They wandered around behind me for a while before heading away from me and not toward the corn pile.

After the turkeys headed off away from me into the brush, it started to get dark.  I watched the buck on the corn pile as it got darker and darker.  He was joined by at least two more deer, but considering I was having a hard time seeing them, I knew it was time to call it a hunt.
I unloaded my gun and packed up my stuff to head out.  Since I needed to walk past Claude, I waited a bit in case his night vision was better than mine.

Denis had indeed shot a very large boar that weighed out at just below 240 pounds (and sorry for the somewhat graphic picture).  He was quite happy to have finally dropped a large boar.

Back at the lodge I packed up most of my stuff.  Denis and Claude again graciously shared their meal of steak, brussel sprouts and potatoes with me.
We all agreed it would be fun to meet up again next year to go after hogs again.