Date: 6/24/2016, Categories: Gay, Author: Tyde, Source: LushStories
The gun season for white-tail deer starts a week before Thanksgiving and even though ‘my’ woods are privately owned, hunters encroach on them from neighboring game lands. My grandfather's brother really owns the land, and he doesn't give a shit about hunters, so none of it is posted. When I hike into what I call ‘my’ cove during hunting season, I have to be careful or I could get shot. After what happened last year though, I’ve learned the risk can be worth it. My great-uncle owes 125 acres of wooded mountains. I spend so much time there that I feel like that it should rightfully be my property. That’s particularly true about the west side of the tract were a stony ridge drops down to a cove, a narrow valley with a creek running through it. In this cove, the trees grow exceptionally tall along the stream, and the earthy smells from the leaf litter, along with the light filtering through the dense canopy, give it a primeval quality. It’s cool here in the summer and it’s sheltered from the wind in the winter. As a bonus, the creek comes off of the rocky flank of the ridge as a 30 foot waterfall and drops into a pool 10 feet deep and 20 feet across. This is my retreat and, when I’m here, I often forget that the rest of the world is not so far away. Under the granite overhang of the ridge, I have a permanent campsite set up in front of a small, shallow cave, where I stash supplies. That way, when I hike in the only things I need to bring with me are my sleeping bag and fresh ...