Yesterday, with temps in the low 20s and winds gusting to 20 mph, I harnessed the power of the practical fantasy to keep my frozen butt in the stand until last light.
What is a practical fantasy? It’d be like Isla Fisher showing up at your front door in an ankle length denim skirt and appliqué sweater ready to review itemized deductions on your tax return. You better believe she’s going to maximize your refund. It’s desperate optimism marinated in real-life pragmatism, then smoked in the full-bodied memories of past successful outings. Ridiculously hopeful and supremely beneficial all that the same time. That’s a practical fantasy and it’s critical to tipping the odds in your favor when you hunt or fish.
For me, the scenario usually plays out once I’ve located a great tree stand location or I’m fishing some lunktacular water. I start to imagine a tangle of antlers emerging from the treeline in the coming seconds. If I’m on (or in) the water, I visualize a beast of a fish lurking near a seam on an eddy just waiting for the right presentation. More often than not, there’s nothing there…but sometimes there is.
And usually, the only reason I connect with these animals is because I persisted longer than I really wanted to. Biting cold, oppressive heat, boredom, biting insects, waning light, drunk rafters; all these conspire to send me packing to the comforts of home. The practical fantasy generates just enough optimism to keep me out there and in the game. I suppose it’s also a little like being addicted to gambling. “This next hand is going to be a winner.” While staying out just a little longer won’t force me to refinance my house, the price is usually more modest, like numb fingers, bug bite welts and/or late nights. The rewards on the other hand, can be incredible and generate lasting memories
I still remember a “last cast” while fishing with a buddy in high school. We’d gained access to a local sand quarry lake and were casting to a bluff wall. On his last throw, something slammed his Wiggle Wart. Two minutes later we were hauling his first muskie out of the water. Good thing we stuck around! I think about that fish every time I consider quitting for the day.
Another example; my first buck was taken on a day I only had time for a couple hours in the stand and had forgotten my hunting boots. I wore my work shoes and got busted by a doe in the first hour, then double lunged a ten pointer twenty minutes later. My intellect told me to leave, since every deer in the county had probably heard the doe blowing at me. The dream of a bruiser ambling out of the forest kept me on stand and in position for that opportunity.
The practical part of the fantasy comes with being in the right place with the right equipment at the right time. You can’t rely on optimism alone, but the funny thing about the outdoors is that the more outside you are, the better “gut” you have about when and where to put yourself. You develop a sense for how animals react to their environment which, coupled with the tenacity to stay out longer, results in more close encounters.
As the closing days of whitetail season draw near and the temperatures continue to drop, stay warm and in position with whatever practical fantasy works for you. In the meantime, I’m going to start pulling together my 2014 tax documentation, just in case the doorbell rings.
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