Alas! Alack! Deer Hunting is done!

Articles about hunting experiences wax melodramatic over the romanticism of hunting.  The lyrical passages are almost a literary art-form.

For most of the last two weeks I've been freezing my nether regions waiting for a whitetail to come by.  Deer hunting mostly consists of going out to a watch (deer runway) about forty-five minutes before dawn and waiting, and waiting and waiting and waiting some more.  Generally you sit on a rock in ambient temperatures that hover around freezing.  Eventually the rock rises a to a degree or two above ambient by sucking all the heat out of your arse.  Rainy days are a special torture.

Yet year after year off I go.  This year I got a doe on the second day of deer hunting and spent the remaining days waiting and waiting and waiting...in the cold.