"spring break" 2009

It seems a little odd writing about my trip for spring break as I have recently turned 37 years old. I decided to give up a nice paying job and devote my time to a dream of my past: law school. I knew it was a risk, and one that would take not only most of my free time as well as a considerable effort, but would deplete my savings to boot. After a year of hard work, spring break came, and I just had to let myself go. I decided on a 5 day Turkey hunting/camping/ fly fishing trip. It started out as one of those epic trips complete with all of the requisite planning. I was to leave Birmingham, travel to a national forest in the center of the state to set up camp. The thunderstorms that had set in were to be a bad omen. My trip was to be plagued with bad weather. But I had to go, there was no other time that would be available to me. The first night wasn't too bad, but it would get worse. The reports coming across the weather radio had severe thunderstorms predicted, as well as tornadoes.

After getting my second camp set, I decided to guy out the tent a little more securely than usual. As the night approached I realized I had made a good decision. The problem lie in the fact that I forgot to seam seal the rain fly! After a few hours of what seemed like Chinese water-torture, I decided to move camp to the cab of my Tacoma. This is a smallish cab with bucket seats, but it was going to have to do. Three days of driving forest roads and calling down into the hollows drew me down into the lowlands after some gobblers who seemed resigned to getting me to go on a long hike. They became silent however, right after I had made the long trek down the hill, thus ending my hunt. By the third day, I was satisfied with packing up my gear, and heading north two hours to meet up with a friend to go after trout and bass on the Sipsey river. When I arrived, I began to set up camp and wait for his arrival. Coming in, he got stuck in the mud left from the harsh storms, so we spent the better part of the early afternoon dragging his vehicle from the bog.

On the fishing leg of my trip, the weather was no more forgiving. High winds made fly fishing nearly impossible, but we came prepared with our spinning reels. After landing a couple of decent stripers, the fishing was off as well. We had some venison generously donated by another friend, and decided to make the most of the trip with good camp food and a little merriment. The weather cleared a little, but the fishing remained poor, so the trip was finished off with good food, good companionship, a roaring fire, and relaxation. Still, I wouldn't trade it for anything. All of my work, all of my schooling, has come to but one end, to provide me with more opportunities to do things like this. LONG LIVE SPRING BREAK, no matter what your age.

Recommended Reading:

In 1968, Gary Linderer was finishing out his tour of duty in Vietnam. He was part of a LRP team (long range reconnisance) inserted behind enemy lines. The harrowing story might have been one of those "Rambo" type stories, or a scathing indictment of the powers that be, but his story is that of a young man who was part of a team of extremely skilled men who really loved their job. The Rangers are a group of men who combined military expertise with a unique set of wilderness skills required for their kind of work. This most personal of memoirs recounts freinds lost, frightening nights spent sleping in the jungle surrounded by enemy soldiers, gathering information, and calling in artillery barrages on the enemy camps which they were only meters from at some points.

For someone such as myself who has grown up with an abiding love and respect for wilderness survival, it humbles you to the core. Imagine having to put all of your survival, tracking, concealement, and woodsmanship skills to the test, while all the time having to evade an enemy who particularly hates your type of soldier because you operate in his home territory!