Arizona Outdoorsman / AZOD

August Hallucinations

AZOD founder, Glenn Willis

It’s July 12, the monsoon has just arrived and the clouds are building over the mountains. I gaze up at Antelope Mesa only about 13 miles away and imagine that Yarnell has to be at least 20 degrees cooler. Hey, it’s at least 4,500 feel above sea level. It’s become an ordeal to use my grill in the afternoon much less practice with my bow. Sweat runs down my face and I’m only good for 30 minutes before I head for the shelter of the air-conditioned indoors.

I saw a tarantula today -- he was swimming on his back in the dog’s water bowl sipping an iced boat drink complete with umbrella. I must be getting sunstroke. It feels like the weather in Florida where I grew up, hot, humid and almost unbearable. We’ve had to turn the swamp cooler off and the AC is running full tilt 24 hours. I hate to see the electricity bill.

In the mornings it looks like a Disney movie around the sprinklers. Quail, rabbits, dove, hawks, buzzards, stay cats and an assortment of birds gather around the trees with drip systems. A whole pack of coyotes are circling around the fence and my rottweiler just doesn’t seem to care. It’s already too hot to chase anything much less something that’s hard to catch.

I tell myself, look on the bright side. Hunting season is less than a month away. Archery Deer season, August. I dream up visions of the north country, cold in the mornings and cool in the middle of the day. But I live here in Arizona, and it will be hot. I’ll have to start scouting soon, I tell myself.

Heck, why am I trying to kid myself. All I have to do is find water and hang out there in full camo. No need to worry about my scent. Even the best scent-absorbing clothing and cover-ups will have no effect when you are dumping a gallon of perspiration a minute. Better to worry about being downwind. Hey at least I will be hunting. I’ll need about 5 gallons of water for the morning hunt and another 10 for the afternoon.

I remembered last year’s August hunt. I was sitting above a cow tank and must have started hallucinating. Suddenly it was December and there were snow flurries. I was above Stanton in a hanging valley. I had camped in an old miner’s shack. Everywhere I glassed I saw big bucks out chasing does. It was cold. Ouch, sweat dripped into my eye and I awoke from the dream. My vision cleared and there were three does and a button buck at the water hole. I forgot all about the heat, the sun was just setting and I began to wish for that big 4X4 to step out to get his drink. Would I risk the shot if he did? Would I risk the December and January hunt? Would the meat keep long enough to get it to the cooler? Thank goodness I didn’t have to decide. The big boy did not appear. Then another question popped into my brain. Will I hunt tomorrow? You bet I will. It may be hot as all get-out, but I’m hunting.

The daydream faded and I looked at the dog’s water bowl again. Was that bug really drinking a cold drink? Yep, I’m hallucinating -- time to go inside and put up the bow. Gosh it’s hot. Only a few more days to go and I can start hunting again.

Robert Glenn Willis

Team AZOD