Vension loin with a hint of orange peel essence, I think not.

Probably like many hunters, I spend very little time thinking about the other hunters in the woods while I’m actually hunting.  Sure I wear my hunter orange and avoid white hats in white tail country, but that is about the extent of my focus on the competition. As I’ve transitioned to bow hunting the competition per se becomes even less of an ever-present thought because the number of hunters is so much less.

That complacency changed one snowy November day as I climbed through knee-high snow over rocks and trees and up draws to my intended perch just above my favorite saddle.  Given the location where we hunt, which is not hospitable to hunters, there was not a single human track in my hour long climb.

As I got closer to the top, my pace slowed down and my senses perked up.  The air was charged with life.  I could hear the wind as it skimmed the top of the draw and each crunch my boot made in the champagne powder snow sounded like a low squeak.  I relished feeling completely alone.  I crested the hill where the wind had blown most of the snow off the ridge.  But there was still enough snow to notice some very fresh deer tracks in the snow.  And even more interesting to me were the even fresher cougar tracks in the snow.

"I’m sure he is long gone," I thought to myself.  I kept walking to the saddle and cleared the snow and brush off the ground by a large tree so I could tuck in with my bow and not worry about spooking the next deer to wander gracefully into my view.  While I stood there, snow began to freeze to my bow and arrows and my fingers slowly lost any feeling.  I scraped the snow off my string and decided I needed to start walking or the next deer to cross my path would be very safe indeed.  As I started to walk I remembered the small orange I had stuck in my pocket for a snack.  Given the incredibly cold weather the orange was going to become a popsicle if I didn’t peel it and eat it soon.  I tore off my gloves and set the world record for fastest peeling of an orange so I could put my gloves back on.  I dropped the orange peel on the ground next to the tree I had set up as home base.  I inhaled said orange and then began my warm up walk.

The saddle is probably 100 yards long so the walk to get my blood flowing did not take very long.  I reached the end feeling quite pleased with the number of deer tracks I saw in the snow and began my return trip.  You know that feeling where you know eyes are watching you but you don’t see anyone?  I began to have that feeling.  But I knew where the rest of my hunting party was and there was no way anyone had made it over to me yet.  I returned to my home base tree and felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.  The orange peels were gone and there were new cougar tracks leading to and from my home base.  When I was a little girl my mom read that cats dislike citrus and actually pinned orange peels to a fabric sofa to deter our small felines from using it as a scratching post.  This particular cat didn’t seem to share that dislike of orange peels.

Suddenly my incredibly remote saddle felt a bit too remote for me.  No big deal I thought, I’ll just climb the ridge and find some human company.  I began the trek through the snow and came across someone else in my hunting party.  “You’ll never guess what we just found,” he said.  A cougar killed a deer and left the carcass in the middle of the hill when he was done eating.  I have respect for any wild animal enjoying appetizers and a first course for dinner, but I don't want to be there if he returns for seconds.  I began hunting in the opposite direction.  And any time over the next 3 weekends that I thought about it, I did throw a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure there wasn’t any extra company.