Hunting Sense

Hey, y’all, I’m Bobby Joe. BJ to those of you who know me. Cliff asked me to mozy on over here to Hunting Sense and share with you one of my hunting adventures. I know it’s ’cause he’s jealous since he ain’t never seen himself a bigfoot.

Dang, I’ve done and spoiled the story for you by going and mentioning that. Oh well, maybe y’all may still enjoy it anyway, so here goes.

It all started when me and some of my kin were out deer hunting. We down by the creek at Butch’s Holler and was getting set to do us a drive through the thicket. The thick tangle ran right up to the start of the holler and we had cousin Danny sitting there to get a shot at whatever we pushed up to him. He was the only one who hadn’t gotten their buck yet, so we figured was only right to let him have the chance.

Anyway, the twelve of us spread out ’bout fifty yards or so apart and waded into the brush. At first it wasn’t too bad cause it was only ’bout waist high and we could still see one another. About a hundred yards in though, the real thicket started and I found myself having to nearly crawl in places to get through. I was making a dreadful racket, but seeing how we wanted to scare anything out that was in there, it didn’t matter none too much.

I was nearly half way through, I know cause I came across the old leaning stand I shot that thirty pointer from a few years back, when I stopped to catch my wind and get a chew. When I stopped, it should have gotten quiet, but it didn’t. The popping and cracking of limbs out in front of me sounded like an elephant coming through the woods. I threw down my t’bacco pouch and raised my rifle, sure that I was going to outdo that thirty pointer I mentioned earlier.

I’ll never forget what I saw next. Cousin Danny came barreling through the brush at me, mouth open in a scream but not a sound escaping from him. Right behind him with a hand firmly attached to his shoulder was bigfoot. It was the first time I’d ever seen the thing, but everything I’d heard about him were true. He was nearly seven feet tall and his hair hung from his entire body like that long, tangly swamp moss. Scared to death for cousin Danny, I aimed the best I could and fired off a shot just over bigfoots head.

To be continued…

hunting, Rednecks, bigfoot, comedy, humor