August 23, 2024 • 22 mins
Brent's talking about safety and the lack thereof on this episode. He's sharing some examples of how the progression of time and technology has helped him make better decisions compared to his "back in the day" era. Lessons on what not to do are the focus this week on MeatEater's "This Country Life" podcast.
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Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:05):
Welcome to This Country Life. I'm your host, Brent Reeves
from cone hunting to trot lining and just general country living.
I want you to stay a while as I share
my experiences and life lessons. This country Life is presented
by Case Knives on Meat Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you
the best outdoor podcast the airwaves have to offer. All right, friends,
(00:28):
grab a chair or drop that tailgate. I've got some
stories to share. Safety first. Usually, safety is said to
be everyone's job. I believe that to be true, because
nothing can ruin a grand adventure quicker than someone getting hurt.
(00:52):
Being in the outdoors enhances the risk of accidents and injury.
But there are things we can do to put the
odds on our side. I tell you about some I
think you should know. But first, I'm going to tell
you a story now that it's starting to cool off somewhat.
(01:13):
A few days ago, it was only one hundred here
in Arkansas, but I catched myself reminiscing and longing for
time spent in cooler temperatures. I was also putting together
an outline for this week's podcast about safety and thought
which misadventure should be a good way to start the show. Well,
with a seemingly endless catalog of calamity and near missus
(01:35):
that grows bigger nearly every time I get out of bed.
I settled on this one that happened during a particularly
bitter cold front. Back around nineteen ninety five. Tim and
I were just getting necked deep in the duck guid
in business and had a group of hunters from North
Carolina on their first of what would be several years.
The majority of them would book hunts with us. The
(01:58):
big cold front had pushed in with their arrival, and
hunting in the woods was going to be hard to
do with everything freezing up. For those that don't know,
ducks prefer open water to roost and rest in, and
when the flooded timber and fields lock up due to
the water not moving to stay open. There was one
place you could count on them going, the Arkansas River,
(02:19):
and it was right out the back door. We had
a place that we hunted, a lot that was open
to the public, just like hunting on Wildlife Management Area land.
Whoever got their first claim the spot. Now, with that
in mind, somebody had to go early to claim it
for us. Tim volunteered and a pair of North Carolinians
(02:40):
would go with him. Tim and his charges hit the
river that morning, a couple hours ahead of when I
would be bringing the rest of the crew, and there
was nine of us total, seven hunters and me and Tim.
Tim took all the decoys in his boat and would
meet me back at the boat rent when I arrived
to help haul everyone else. Three hunters in his boat
(03:01):
and the other two with me. Now there was no
way to safely haul them all in, all the decoys
and two boats in one trip, so we knew the
seven mile round trip would take a little bit, but
it would be worth it to be on the safe side.
It was in the pitch black dark and in the
high twenties when Tim got to the point of land
(03:23):
that stuck out of the backwater slough that we hunted.
It was off the main channel nearly a mile, and
had we been hunting deer there, you would have called
this place a pinch point. Now, beyond that pinch point
of land it opened back up into a big backwater bay,
and depending on the river level, it could be as
(03:43):
much as twenty acres or more of water that was
perfect for resting ducks. Now, I can't tell you how
many times we watched ducks light out in the middle
of that big open water when there wasn't any wind
or ice. The first group of twenty or more of
a morning would sit down out there in relative safety,
and then we'd be in for a day of just
seeing all the rest of them fall a suit until
(04:05):
it was time for us to head back to camp.
Now we'd scrap out some here and there that buzz
the decoys, but if the wind wasn't blowing, you could
just about bet the hunting wouldn't be nearly as good
as the scenery. It's like watching the National Geographic Channel
before there was such a thing. But if you had
wind of any speed and in any direction, you could
(04:27):
hunt it just fine. There was literally no wind direction
that we couldn't set up for by moving around to
different locations in that bay. The wind direction that day
wouldn't play a factor on how the ducks worked into
the decoys. It would, however, play into how we got
back home. And hour before shooting ours, we were at
(04:47):
the boat ramp, backing the boat in before I could
get the truck and trailer parked. Him pulled up, having
left his two hunters at the hunting spot. We got
the spot, he said, but it's full of ice. The
hole is froze up, so we're gonna have to break
it open. No problem. We done that before, and breaking
ice and pushing it out with a boat is simple
(05:07):
enough task. Tham's boat had a SEMIV hole that means
that front of the boat comes to a point instead
of having a square front. The V hole is great
for cutting waves and makes for a smoothie ride, but
when opening a frozen hole for shooting ducks, the flat
nose on my boat was way more effishent and here's why.
I made circle after circle, breaking up the ice where
(05:29):
we wanted to sit out the decoys, and I made
a hole in the ice about forty yards across. Then
I pulled my boat to the bank and parked it
with the nose of the boat against a tree. I
kicked the outboard into shallow water, drive, put it in gear,
and just let it idle. It takes two trees for
SEMIV boat to stay in one spot. You just got
(05:50):
to poke the nose in between them. But there wasn't
two trees available where we needed one. Mine fit perfectly.
The small amount of her was pulling the broken ice
down stream and the thrust of the island motor was
pushing all the broken ice out to where the floe was.
It was also mudding up the water like ducks had
(06:11):
been feeding in it and keeping it open. If any
ducks flew that day, we should be right on the x.
There would be no sitting out in the middle of
the bay that day. It was a solid sheet of
ice and we were the only game in town. We
put out two dozen decoys, stood our hunters beside the
trees on the bank, just a few feet away from
(06:32):
the edge of the water. They were hid, and Tim
and I anchored each end so we could call and
watch for ducks, keep control of the hunters and call
the shot. Ten to fifteen minutes of island, the boat
motor and we had the only spot that was sheltered
off the main channel and away from the strong current
(06:53):
that wasn't frozen. Ducks started bombing in a few minutes
before daylight, and the way the breeze funneled up that
slew it put them right in our face. We made
everyone keep their guns unloaded until the less than a
minute before shooting ears open. It was just to keep
the boys on the leash. The mallards were hovering within
(07:14):
a boat, paddling to the bank and hitting the water
like they were crashing, hoping to secure a spot in
our hole that was filling up with ducks. This was
fixing to get pretty sporty. We rang the bell and
it was an absolute feeding frenzy and the worst display
of shooting I believe I've ever been a witness to.
(07:34):
There was one cat shooting a ten gauge that was
running it to the plug on every volley. It was
like being in London during the Blitz. Nine folks shooting
ducks all at once and then boom, boom boomed that
ten gauge that never cut a feather. He was so
(07:56):
shook up by what was happening, and I'm not sure
he could have fell off a bucket and hit the grin.
He was even talking about one of us taking him
to Walmart to buy more shells up in the morning
after his second box ran dry. That's fifty shells of
shooting at ducks less than thirty yards away. They were
more or less stationary as they hovered looking for a
(08:18):
spot to light. It was brutal to witness. Well. We
finally got him and the rest of them calmed down
to agree, and with a barred shotgun and shells, he
started working on his limit. Now everyone was settling into
the once in a lifetime event. I know, folks that
have hundred dollar their lives here in Arkansas had never
(08:38):
seen what we saw that day. I promise you every
last one of them that was there remembers it just
as well as Tim and I do. We had to
choke them off the trough though before we shot all
our limits. Those cats were just shooting ducks and not
picking out the drakes. We warned them several times as
they were getting close to the hen limit, and if
(08:59):
they kept shooting them, we were going to have to
pull the plug on the hunt, regardless if we had
our total limit or not. Now we weren't about to
risk violating the law by shooting over the limit. Tim
and I both were in law enforcement and getting a
ticket like that could have been the end of our careers.
It also didn't look good to be in the guiding
business and breaking the law. The biggest reason is it
(09:22):
just wasn't right to begin with, and we weren't about
to let that happen, even on accident. So if it
meant airing on the side of caution. That's what we
were going to do. The same caution didn't apply to
navigating the river in a big wind, but it would
from that day on. But the lasting lessons, the good ones,
(09:43):
come with a high price, and we were about to
run our credit to the limit. The way we were
positioned on the point of land facing the duck Hoole
had our backs to a narrow shute that you could
see out toward the area that led out to the
(10:05):
main channel. Twice, just before we had the end to
hunt because of the hen count, Tim called me over
to look at the waves that were now moving in
the opposite direction from how they'd been moving when we
got there. The wind was still blowing in the same direction,
although it was much harder now, but I assumed it
was because of how it was funneling up that big
(10:26):
slew that we were hunting on, not because it had
totally switched directions out in the main channel. On the
section of the river where we were A west or
north wind of any magnitude was all good. It could
have blown forty miles an hour down the river, no problem.
But anything stout enough to fly a kite out of
(10:49):
the south or the east, or any combination thereof was
no bueno, and this wind was now kicking hard enough
to fly coffee table. The problem with wind in that
direction is that it's blowing against the downward current of
the river. The wind was pushing big waves against the tide.
We could see that the ride back to the boat
(11:09):
ramp was going to be cold, wet, and dangerous. Both
of our boats were sixteen feet long and forty eight
inches wide, mine with a twenty five horse fire tiller
handle and Tim's sporting a console steering with a forty horse.
They were dependable, just not big enough for what we
were asking them to do that day. Neither one of
(11:32):
us would forget that day, and a bigger boat for
hunting Arkansas was our next purchase. Tim started the first
leg of what would be his round trip with four
hunters laying in the bottom of the boat. Life jackets
buckled up and looking like sardines packed in a can
from above, and the waves were two and three foot high,
making it slow going as we convoyed down the river.
(11:54):
The three hunters I had with me riding the same way,
and the two guys who left all the bank, had
no idea what was in store for him as the
wind grew with intensity, out of sight from where they
waited at the duck over where hundreds of ducks were
still falling in. The three and a half miles down
river was some of the roughest water I've ever been off.
(12:17):
Waves and spray coming over the front and the sides
of the boat had my hunters soaked and freezing. The
front of my coat and waiters was a solid sheet
of ice. We finally made it back to the boat
ramp and a couple of them said they would have
kissed the ground that they could have been over in
the frozen clothed to do it, and we unloaded everything
and everyone from Tim's boat pulled it out and drained
(12:40):
the water, checked his gas, then put it back in
the river. He headed back up the river into a
gale that was blowing so hard now that even the
slack water just up from the boat ramp was white capin.
It seemed like it took forever for them to come back,
and I had my boat drained, ready to go, and
(13:00):
had already made a plan on how I was going
to go check on them. When we saw them heading
our way, the boat coming almost out of the water
at times as they ramped from one big swell to
the next. They pulled onto the trailer and both of
Tim's passengers slowly crawled out of that boat into the truck.
(13:21):
One of them tried to sit on the front deck
as they pulled away from our hunting spot, after Tim
told them both the better lay down in the bottom
of the boat. He was setting up front facing Tim,
and after the first two or three small waves, he
grabbed a rope in his hand and started spurring the
air like he was coming out of a bucket shoot
on a bronck at a rodeo. Tim said all the
(13:45):
color drained out of his face when they hit the
next series of waves that pitched him a foot or
so off the deck, and before he had time to
regain his seat, the boat dropped a couple of feet
and old cowboy Bob hit the deck flat of his
breeches so hard he said he thought he chipped a
two ooths. That was how the whole ride back to
(14:06):
the boat ramp went. And for a little extra spice,
the throttle cable froze and broke on Tim's motor. Not
long after they got in the main channel. They bobbed
around out in the current at the mercy of the
elements until he rigged up a leather ductote to the
throttle on the outboard and had it over his shoulder
(14:29):
controlling the gas while he drove one handed back to camp.
His passengers were rattling around in the bottom of that
boat like two beans and a coffee camp. Now, we
still talk about that day, and that day was over
twenty five years ago. We still talk about it with
the two guys that were in the boat that day
(14:49):
with Tim, and we never mentioned one without the other.
Remember that day we all nearly died on the river.
I mean today that we killed all those ducks. Yeah,
I remember, and I won't never forget it. And that's
just how that happened. Use enough boat. That's what we
(15:18):
learned from the story I just told y'all. And that's
a veiled reference to a book mister Robert Ruark wrote
about big game hunting. He was talking about, if you're
hunting dangerous game, you better have a gun big enough
to do the job. Well. The same applies for boats
on the Arkansas River. My maternal grandfather find a sly
(15:38):
to those who knew him and Pap all to a
wagon load of grandkids, and several close friends of mine,
believe that if two nails would hold an item in place,
that six would be three times as good. I'm exaggerating
a little bit, but to anyone that knew him, they
know it ain't an exaggeration by much. I got some
(15:59):
folks working on a boat for me down in southeast Arkansas,
and it's going to be wide enough that the Arkansas
River will have to work extra hard to get inside it,
like the old one I had in the story I
just told y'all. Also with the information that I can
get off my phone and at any given time to
garden weather the river ain't gonna get a chance. I'll
(16:21):
either leave before he gets bad where I'm hunting, I'll
wait for it to pass, or I just won't go
because of it, live to hunt and fish another day.
It took years for me to actually put my priorities
in place regarding when the weather was too bad to hunt.
My drive to get a turkey had me and a
friend of mine hunting through a tornado that blew up
(16:42):
in the most inopportune time. A turkey was on the
ground gobbling his brains out, and slowly strutting towards us
at one hundred and fifty yards away. I told that
story on our newest edition of Me to Campfire. Stories
about close calls. Accurate on demand weather forecasting would have
kept me from putting myself in that situation to begin with. Unfortunately,
(17:07):
that technology was still years of poor decisions away from reality,
and maybe even then it wouldn't have mattered. There's a
calming and a maturity that comes with stacking birthdays up
in a pile. For most, it's wisdom from lessons learned.
In my case, it's more like wonder, Like I wonder
(17:27):
how in the world I managed to make it this
long without falling off a cliff or zigging when I
should have been zagging. I can only chalk it up
to divine intervention and having not yet fulfilled my duties
here on this side of the river, Jordan, I'm thankful
to still be stumbling around out here and doing my
dead level best to figure out what my purpose is.
(17:49):
Financial support system for a twelve year old competition dancer
may be it, who knows, but putting yourself in positions
to fail will always increase the risk. You don't lay
down on the highway at night to look at the
heavens unless you're a total bozo. The same way you
don't drive down a long, straight stretch of deserted highway
(18:11):
with your lights off because the moon is so bright
you can see without them. Now, who does that? No
one does that? I mean besides me? Who is dumb
enough to do that? My partner. My partner and I
were working in the graveyard shift and had been patrolling
all over the county. Now nothing was going on and
(18:33):
no one was out. It was the middle of the week,
in the middle of the night. Spring was in full
swing and the nights were still cool enough to wear
a jacket. We'd stopped to check an old church beside
the highway, and I walked out to the pavement for
nothing better to do than The night was bright and clear,
and the moon was crystal clear and bright. I sat
(18:53):
down on the edge of the asphalt, and within a
minute I was laying flat on my back, watching the
moon like it was a TV. The pavement was still
holding some heat from the sun, and it felt good,
and I could feel it radiating up through my jacket.
My crime fighting comrade joined me. We talked about what
it must have been like to walk on the moon,
and my friend said, hey, you hear that? And we
(19:16):
both sat up, straining to hear, and what he said
sounded like a car well off we could see for
nearly a mile in both directions. Neither one of us
saw any lights. We each laid back down, but this time,
after a moment, I thought I heard something. About the
time he said, I hear a car. We sat up,
(19:36):
each looking up and down the highway and said nothing,
but I could hear the unmistakable sound of an eight
cylinder engine shifted into overdrive, getting louder closer, and we
both stood up and stepped away from the highway in
time to feel the wind rushed by us as a
black Chevy Nova blew by us. It mocked too, with
no head, the moonlight stillhouating the un mistakeable shape of
(20:01):
that car, as I tried to remind myself I wasn't
wearing a diaper. No. We looked at each other, both
full of adrenaline and happy to be alive, as we
put as much distance as we could between us and
the highway. A fool was driving one hundred miles an
hour with his lights off. Do we need to go
get him? Do you really want to put in the
(20:21):
report that we were laying in the highway when this happened.
We decided to let him go. The reality of all
three principal players in those two scenarios, the duck guides
whose boats were moderately up to the tasks they were
asked to perform, the deputies that put themselves at risk
(20:41):
by laying down on a highway, and the nameless driver
who tempted fate by driving only with the moonlight needlessly
put themselves in a position to fail. Laugh at those
events now, because we lucked out. We didn't sink a boat.
No one got run over. As far as I know,
(21:02):
that guy driving in the dark didn't have an accident,
Not in our county anyway. There are a lot more
examples of these calamities that so many. In fact, I
think we'll talk about some more next week. I got
a couple of stories that I still have flashbacks about
scary tim too. Let's continue this series and talk about
(21:24):
things that we did and folks shouldn't. Thank y'all so
much for listening to this country life and my goat
smashing homie Klay Bold, Nukem, and Bear Grease. I gotta
get you one of those goat hacks. But until next week,
this is Brent Reeves signing off. I'll be careful.
Welcome to This Country Life. I'm your host, Brent Reeves
from cone hunting to trot lining and just general country living.
I want you to stay a while as I share
my experiences and life lessons. This country Life is presented
by Case Knives on Meat Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you
the best outdoor podcast the airwaves have to offer. All right, friends,
(00:28):
grab a chair or drop that tailgate. I've got some
stories to share. Safety first. Usually, safety is said to
be everyone's job. I believe that to be true, because
nothing can ruin a grand adventure quicker than someone getting hurt.
(00:52):
Being in the outdoors enhances the risk of accidents and injury.
But there are things we can do to put the
odds on our side. I tell you about some I
think you should know. But first, I'm going to tell
you a story now that it's starting to cool off somewhat.
(01:13):
A few days ago, it was only one hundred here
in Arkansas, but I catched myself reminiscing and longing for
time spent in cooler temperatures. I was also putting together
an outline for this week's podcast about safety and thought
which misadventure should be a good way to start the show. Well,
with a seemingly endless catalog of calamity and near missus
(01:35):
that grows bigger nearly every time I get out of bed.
I settled on this one that happened during a particularly
bitter cold front. Back around nineteen ninety five. Tim and
I were just getting necked deep in the duck guid
in business and had a group of hunters from North
Carolina on their first of what would be several years.
The majority of them would book hunts with us. The
(01:58):
big cold front had pushed in with their arrival, and
hunting in the woods was going to be hard to
do with everything freezing up. For those that don't know,
ducks prefer open water to roost and rest in, and
when the flooded timber and fields lock up due to
the water not moving to stay open. There was one
place you could count on them going, the Arkansas River,
(02:19):
and it was right out the back door. We had
a place that we hunted, a lot that was open
to the public, just like hunting on Wildlife Management Area land.
Whoever got their first claim the spot. Now, with that
in mind, somebody had to go early to claim it
for us. Tim volunteered and a pair of North Carolinians
(02:40):
would go with him. Tim and his charges hit the
river that morning, a couple hours ahead of when I
would be bringing the rest of the crew, and there
was nine of us total, seven hunters and me and Tim.
Tim took all the decoys in his boat and would
meet me back at the boat rent when I arrived
to help haul everyone else. Three hunters in his boat
(03:01):
and the other two with me. Now there was no
way to safely haul them all in, all the decoys
and two boats in one trip, so we knew the
seven mile round trip would take a little bit, but
it would be worth it to be on the safe side.
It was in the pitch black dark and in the
high twenties when Tim got to the point of land
(03:23):
that stuck out of the backwater slough that we hunted.
It was off the main channel nearly a mile, and
had we been hunting deer there, you would have called
this place a pinch point. Now, beyond that pinch point
of land it opened back up into a big backwater bay,
and depending on the river level, it could be as
(03:43):
much as twenty acres or more of water that was
perfect for resting ducks. Now, I can't tell you how
many times we watched ducks light out in the middle
of that big open water when there wasn't any wind
or ice. The first group of twenty or more of
a morning would sit down out there in relative safety,
and then we'd be in for a day of just
seeing all the rest of them fall a suit until
(04:05):
it was time for us to head back to camp.
Now we'd scrap out some here and there that buzz
the decoys, but if the wind wasn't blowing, you could
just about bet the hunting wouldn't be nearly as good
as the scenery. It's like watching the National Geographic Channel
before there was such a thing. But if you had
wind of any speed and in any direction, you could
(04:27):
hunt it just fine. There was literally no wind direction
that we couldn't set up for by moving around to
different locations in that bay. The wind direction that day
wouldn't play a factor on how the ducks worked into
the decoys. It would, however, play into how we got
back home. And hour before shooting ours, we were at
(04:47):
the boat ramp, backing the boat in before I could
get the truck and trailer parked. Him pulled up, having
left his two hunters at the hunting spot. We got
the spot, he said, but it's full of ice. The
hole is froze up, so we're gonna have to break
it open. No problem. We done that before, and breaking
ice and pushing it out with a boat is simple
(05:07):
enough task. Tham's boat had a SEMIV hole that means
that front of the boat comes to a point instead
of having a square front. The V hole is great
for cutting waves and makes for a smoothie ride, but
when opening a frozen hole for shooting ducks, the flat
nose on my boat was way more effishent and here's why.
I made circle after circle, breaking up the ice where
(05:29):
we wanted to sit out the decoys, and I made
a hole in the ice about forty yards across. Then
I pulled my boat to the bank and parked it
with the nose of the boat against a tree. I
kicked the outboard into shallow water, drive, put it in gear,
and just let it idle. It takes two trees for
SEMIV boat to stay in one spot. You just got
(05:50):
to poke the nose in between them. But there wasn't
two trees available where we needed one. Mine fit perfectly.
The small amount of her was pulling the broken ice
down stream and the thrust of the island motor was
pushing all the broken ice out to where the floe was.
It was also mudding up the water like ducks had
(06:11):
been feeding in it and keeping it open. If any
ducks flew that day, we should be right on the x.
There would be no sitting out in the middle of
the bay that day. It was a solid sheet of
ice and we were the only game in town. We
put out two dozen decoys, stood our hunters beside the
trees on the bank, just a few feet away from
(06:32):
the edge of the water. They were hid, and Tim
and I anchored each end so we could call and
watch for ducks, keep control of the hunters and call
the shot. Ten to fifteen minutes of island, the boat
motor and we had the only spot that was sheltered
off the main channel and away from the strong current
(06:53):
that wasn't frozen. Ducks started bombing in a few minutes
before daylight, and the way the breeze funneled up that
slew it put them right in our face. We made
everyone keep their guns unloaded until the less than a
minute before shooting ears open. It was just to keep
the boys on the leash. The mallards were hovering within
(07:14):
a boat, paddling to the bank and hitting the water
like they were crashing, hoping to secure a spot in
our hole that was filling up with ducks. This was
fixing to get pretty sporty. We rang the bell and
it was an absolute feeding frenzy and the worst display
of shooting I believe I've ever been a witness to.
(07:34):
There was one cat shooting a ten gauge that was
running it to the plug on every volley. It was
like being in London during the Blitz. Nine folks shooting
ducks all at once and then boom, boom boomed that
ten gauge that never cut a feather. He was so
(07:56):
shook up by what was happening, and I'm not sure
he could have fell off a bucket and hit the grin.
He was even talking about one of us taking him
to Walmart to buy more shells up in the morning
after his second box ran dry. That's fifty shells of
shooting at ducks less than thirty yards away. They were
more or less stationary as they hovered looking for a
(08:18):
spot to light. It was brutal to witness. Well. We
finally got him and the rest of them calmed down
to agree, and with a barred shotgun and shells, he
started working on his limit. Now everyone was settling into
the once in a lifetime event. I know, folks that
have hundred dollar their lives here in Arkansas had never
(08:38):
seen what we saw that day. I promise you every
last one of them that was there remembers it just
as well as Tim and I do. We had to
choke them off the trough though before we shot all
our limits. Those cats were just shooting ducks and not
picking out the drakes. We warned them several times as
they were getting close to the hen limit, and if
(08:59):
they kept shooting them, we were going to have to
pull the plug on the hunt, regardless if we had
our total limit or not. Now we weren't about to
risk violating the law by shooting over the limit. Tim
and I both were in law enforcement and getting a
ticket like that could have been the end of our careers.
It also didn't look good to be in the guiding
business and breaking the law. The biggest reason is it
(09:22):
just wasn't right to begin with, and we weren't about
to let that happen, even on accident. So if it
meant airing on the side of caution. That's what we
were going to do. The same caution didn't apply to
navigating the river in a big wind, but it would
from that day on. But the lasting lessons, the good ones,
(09:43):
come with a high price, and we were about to
run our credit to the limit. The way we were
positioned on the point of land facing the duck Hoole
had our backs to a narrow shute that you could
see out toward the area that led out to the
(10:05):
main channel. Twice, just before we had the end to
hunt because of the hen count, Tim called me over
to look at the waves that were now moving in
the opposite direction from how they'd been moving when we
got there. The wind was still blowing in the same direction,
although it was much harder now, but I assumed it
was because of how it was funneling up that big
(10:26):
slew that we were hunting on, not because it had
totally switched directions out in the main channel. On the
section of the river where we were A west or
north wind of any magnitude was all good. It could
have blown forty miles an hour down the river, no problem.
But anything stout enough to fly a kite out of
(10:49):
the south or the east, or any combination thereof was
no bueno, and this wind was now kicking hard enough
to fly coffee table. The problem with wind in that
direction is that it's blowing against the downward current of
the river. The wind was pushing big waves against the tide.
We could see that the ride back to the boat
(11:09):
ramp was going to be cold, wet, and dangerous. Both
of our boats were sixteen feet long and forty eight
inches wide, mine with a twenty five horse fire tiller
handle and Tim's sporting a console steering with a forty horse.
They were dependable, just not big enough for what we
were asking them to do that day. Neither one of
(11:32):
us would forget that day, and a bigger boat for
hunting Arkansas was our next purchase. Tim started the first
leg of what would be his round trip with four
hunters laying in the bottom of the boat. Life jackets
buckled up and looking like sardines packed in a can
from above, and the waves were two and three foot high,
making it slow going as we convoyed down the river.
(11:54):
The three hunters I had with me riding the same way,
and the two guys who left all the bank, had
no idea what was in store for him as the
wind grew with intensity, out of sight from where they
waited at the duck over where hundreds of ducks were
still falling in. The three and a half miles down
river was some of the roughest water I've ever been off.
(12:17):
Waves and spray coming over the front and the sides
of the boat had my hunters soaked and freezing. The
front of my coat and waiters was a solid sheet
of ice. We finally made it back to the boat
ramp and a couple of them said they would have
kissed the ground that they could have been over in
the frozen clothed to do it, and we unloaded everything
and everyone from Tim's boat pulled it out and drained
(12:40):
the water, checked his gas, then put it back in
the river. He headed back up the river into a
gale that was blowing so hard now that even the
slack water just up from the boat ramp was white capin.
It seemed like it took forever for them to come back,
and I had my boat drained, ready to go, and
(13:00):
had already made a plan on how I was going
to go check on them. When we saw them heading
our way, the boat coming almost out of the water
at times as they ramped from one big swell to
the next. They pulled onto the trailer and both of
Tim's passengers slowly crawled out of that boat into the truck.
(13:21):
One of them tried to sit on the front deck
as they pulled away from our hunting spot, after Tim
told them both the better lay down in the bottom
of the boat. He was setting up front facing Tim,
and after the first two or three small waves, he
grabbed a rope in his hand and started spurring the
air like he was coming out of a bucket shoot
on a bronck at a rodeo. Tim said all the
(13:45):
color drained out of his face when they hit the
next series of waves that pitched him a foot or
so off the deck, and before he had time to
regain his seat, the boat dropped a couple of feet
and old cowboy Bob hit the deck flat of his
breeches so hard he said he thought he chipped a
two ooths. That was how the whole ride back to
(14:06):
the boat ramp went. And for a little extra spice,
the throttle cable froze and broke on Tim's motor. Not
long after they got in the main channel. They bobbed
around out in the current at the mercy of the
elements until he rigged up a leather ductote to the
throttle on the outboard and had it over his shoulder
(14:29):
controlling the gas while he drove one handed back to camp.
His passengers were rattling around in the bottom of that
boat like two beans and a coffee camp. Now, we
still talk about that day, and that day was over
twenty five years ago. We still talk about it with
the two guys that were in the boat that day
(14:49):
with Tim, and we never mentioned one without the other.
Remember that day we all nearly died on the river.
I mean today that we killed all those ducks. Yeah,
I remember, and I won't never forget it. And that's
just how that happened. Use enough boat. That's what we
(15:18):
learned from the story I just told y'all. And that's
a veiled reference to a book mister Robert Ruark wrote
about big game hunting. He was talking about, if you're
hunting dangerous game, you better have a gun big enough
to do the job. Well. The same applies for boats
on the Arkansas River. My maternal grandfather find a sly
(15:38):
to those who knew him and Pap all to a
wagon load of grandkids, and several close friends of mine,
believe that if two nails would hold an item in place,
that six would be three times as good. I'm exaggerating
a little bit, but to anyone that knew him, they
know it ain't an exaggeration by much. I got some
(15:59):
folks working on a boat for me down in southeast Arkansas,
and it's going to be wide enough that the Arkansas
River will have to work extra hard to get inside it,
like the old one I had in the story I
just told y'all. Also with the information that I can
get off my phone and at any given time to
garden weather the river ain't gonna get a chance. I'll
(16:21):
either leave before he gets bad where I'm hunting, I'll
wait for it to pass, or I just won't go
because of it, live to hunt and fish another day.
It took years for me to actually put my priorities
in place regarding when the weather was too bad to hunt.
My drive to get a turkey had me and a
friend of mine hunting through a tornado that blew up
(16:42):
in the most inopportune time. A turkey was on the
ground gobbling his brains out, and slowly strutting towards us
at one hundred and fifty yards away. I told that
story on our newest edition of Me to Campfire. Stories
about close calls. Accurate on demand weather forecasting would have
kept me from putting myself in that situation to begin with. Unfortunately,
(17:07):
that technology was still years of poor decisions away from reality,
and maybe even then it wouldn't have mattered. There's a
calming and a maturity that comes with stacking birthdays up
in a pile. For most, it's wisdom from lessons learned.
In my case, it's more like wonder, Like I wonder
(17:27):
how in the world I managed to make it this
long without falling off a cliff or zigging when I
should have been zagging. I can only chalk it up
to divine intervention and having not yet fulfilled my duties
here on this side of the river, Jordan, I'm thankful
to still be stumbling around out here and doing my
dead level best to figure out what my purpose is.
(17:49):
Financial support system for a twelve year old competition dancer
may be it, who knows, but putting yourself in positions
to fail will always increase the risk. You don't lay
down on the highway at night to look at the
heavens unless you're a total bozo. The same way you
don't drive down a long, straight stretch of deserted highway
(18:11):
with your lights off because the moon is so bright
you can see without them. Now, who does that? No
one does that? I mean besides me? Who is dumb
enough to do that? My partner. My partner and I
were working in the graveyard shift and had been patrolling
all over the county. Now nothing was going on and
(18:33):
no one was out. It was the middle of the week,
in the middle of the night. Spring was in full
swing and the nights were still cool enough to wear
a jacket. We'd stopped to check an old church beside
the highway, and I walked out to the pavement for
nothing better to do than The night was bright and clear,
and the moon was crystal clear and bright. I sat
(18:53):
down on the edge of the asphalt, and within a
minute I was laying flat on my back, watching the
moon like it was a TV. The pavement was still
holding some heat from the sun, and it felt good,
and I could feel it radiating up through my jacket.
My crime fighting comrade joined me. We talked about what
it must have been like to walk on the moon,
and my friend said, hey, you hear that? And we
(19:16):
both sat up, straining to hear, and what he said
sounded like a car well off we could see for
nearly a mile in both directions. Neither one of us
saw any lights. We each laid back down, but this time,
after a moment, I thought I heard something. About the
time he said, I hear a car. We sat up,
(19:36):
each looking up and down the highway and said nothing,
but I could hear the unmistakable sound of an eight
cylinder engine shifted into overdrive, getting louder closer, and we
both stood up and stepped away from the highway in
time to feel the wind rushed by us as a
black Chevy Nova blew by us. It mocked too, with
no head, the moonlight stillhouating the un mistakeable shape of
(20:01):
that car, as I tried to remind myself I wasn't
wearing a diaper. No. We looked at each other, both
full of adrenaline and happy to be alive, as we
put as much distance as we could between us and
the highway. A fool was driving one hundred miles an
hour with his lights off. Do we need to go
get him? Do you really want to put in the
(20:21):
report that we were laying in the highway when this happened.
We decided to let him go. The reality of all
three principal players in those two scenarios, the duck guides
whose boats were moderately up to the tasks they were
asked to perform, the deputies that put themselves at risk
(20:41):
by laying down on a highway, and the nameless driver
who tempted fate by driving only with the moonlight needlessly
put themselves in a position to fail. Laugh at those
events now, because we lucked out. We didn't sink a boat.
No one got run over. As far as I know,
(21:02):
that guy driving in the dark didn't have an accident,
Not in our county anyway. There are a lot more
examples of these calamities that so many. In fact, I
think we'll talk about some more next week. I got
a couple of stories that I still have flashbacks about
scary tim too. Let's continue this series and talk about
(21:24):
things that we did and folks shouldn't. Thank y'all so
much for listening to this country life and my goat
smashing homie Klay Bold, Nukem, and Bear Grease. I gotta
get you one of those goat hacks. But until next week,
this is Brent Reeves signing off. I'll be careful.
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