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SEASON 2, EPISODE 9

OCTOBER WALLEYE FISHING. LAKE OF THE WOODS. BALLARD'S RESORT.

Season TWO – Episode 9 – “Truth or consequences.”

At an agile 40-plus miles per hour the bull raced west while Rusty held on dearly, heels pressed under the horns, belly tight to the midsection, and fingertips buried in the hindquarters. He had already beat the 8-second rodeo clock… And if riding a bison bareback and backward was an Olympic sport he would most certainly be representing Team USA.

Sally had her Bear Archery RTH Adapt 2 Mainline Compound Bow drawn as the film crew rolled tape in anticipation of the kill shot. She was hoping for a broadside opportunity, but the bison was jet-setting head on, directly toward their ambush location.

Ron Heimburg (speechless ranch co-owner) joined her and Jackie Loonsuckle in the cluster of brush. The distance in yards-away for the bison, was quickly becoming a measure of feet by the second. It was time for TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES!

“How do we get the bull to stop… Or at least slow down?” She and Jackie and Ron pondered. “And what the hell does he have on his back?!”

Ron (below normal outdoor survival skills) thought whistling might work… And pursed his lips… But large snowflakes pelted his puffy jowls, over-wetting a futile attempt.

Meanwhile, Jackie was adamant about “getting a shot off” even if the bull flew by at full stride (Sally had her doubts). “This could be a one and done chance,” he barked to everyone and no one in particular.

And then SHE saw it! Or him in this case. RUSTY! Bareback! Backward! On top of THE BULL!

“I can’t take the shot,” she blurted out. “Rusty’s on that bull.”

     “Bull and bullshit,” Jackie responded. “Give me that arrow flinger, woman.”

Sally stood up from their hide… Backed the arrow out… Tossed the bow to the ground… And marched from the brush pile to face the stampeding bull one on one.

Her emotional state of mind was a rollercoaster:

A.       Let the bull ride off with Rusty into Never Never Land along with her relationship issues.

B.       Step in front of the bull to bail out Rusty and put him back in her arms.

C.      Sidestep the bull in a half-assed attempt to save both he and their friendship.

D.      None of the above.

Standing tall and waving her arms, Sally made herself larger than life by yelling and screaming at the top of her lungs. She became a crazed pack of WILDCATS facing off against their prey.

She had seen a similar tactic work ONCE. It was a late-September afternoon when she and Rusty were in the bush preparing bait for the autumn bear season.

Temperatures were warm that day… Highs in the mid-seventies… Indian summer in northern lake country. The breeze was extremely stout at 30+ mph from the south.

This was a beach bait (an isthmus that connected two petite islands) with tall cattails on each side of the waters edge. Killing the motor, they glided the skiff through a slick of surface algae, and immediately for Rusty it was pungent to the nostrils and burnt his eyes (allergic).

Getting the boat to shore they hopped out, pulled the bow on the beach, and noticed they were leaving dark green algae tracks in the sand. Similarly, there was an XL-SIZE bear paw print in the same proximity as theirs. Dried out… Hard packed… Interesting… As was the XL-SIZE pile of bear poop.

With arms crating five-gallon pails full of sweets, they made their way through cattails and pushed toward their bait pile. The warm breeze continued to crank steadily in their faces.

Their trail through the weeds opened to a circle with a shooting lane. This was a traditional bear baiting procedure: dig a half disk 12-inches deep… The diameter of a basketball… Dump your 5-gallon pail of bait… Cover bait with large rocks that only humans or bears are capable of moving… Cover boulders with 5-foot timbers (diameter 10-inches) that only humans or bears can disturb… 

The bait pile is complete by stacking said logs to an overall height of 4-feet. Only a bear can get to your bait. And the height of the bait pile allows you to judge its size. 

Sally led the baiting and cleared strewn about logs to dump a bucket of goodies. Rusty was nearby, collecting rocks that had been disassembled, and exploded with a gargantuan sneeze.

This was immediately followed by Rusty screaming “BEAR!!!”… As he had literally woken a black bear!!!

Standing on hind haunches this black beauty was ten feet to a basketball rim. With his nose pouring allergy-induced snot, Rusty dropped the boulder and fled to the boat. Sally held her ground. This was no three ring circus animal. She fully intended to win the standoff.

Full on WILDCAT MODE (yell-scream-make-yourself-large) brought the black bear down to all fours. The monster bruin clacked his teeth and aggressively shook his head, but chose to retreat and scaled the nearest tree. Sally finished baiting the pile with the bear peering down from the top of a 180-foot Norway pine. Rusty stayed huddled in the bow of the boat. His allergy ridden runny nose was buried in a handkerchief.

At one-hundred-yards Jackie Loonsuckle was clocking the bull at 43 miles an hour. Sally was standing directly in its path with her best attempt at going WILDCAT… Ron Heimburg was screaming, “Put that bow down!”… And the film crew continued to roll.

Fifty-yards-out and Loonsuckle did not flinch. Sally glanced to the right and saw him with the compound bow drawn at full length. Ron continued to scream. The film crew kept on rolling.

Ten-yards-out. It was TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES! Jackie released the arrow, as the bull left its feet, soaring over the top of Sally. The film crew was rolling rolling rolling.

Sally stood 5’9’’ without cowgirl boots… And the bull cleared her by a foot and a half. Her screaming was now drowned out by both Rusty and Ron. 

Each of the men had opened their respective eyes long enough to see the arrow stick the BISON. The film crew stopped the tape.

–            To Be Continued –