Stories

I had driven to Skyline Drive as I often do when I am stressed about work or need to re-charge. As usual I had started driving not sure where I wanted to be, only to end up at Skyland Lodge, a beautiful lodge near the summit of Stony Man Mountain.

On the first day of the trip I saw nothing but a few squirrels and chipmunks. I was rather disappointed. I like spending time in Shenandoah, but when I'm stressed, I feel I need to get a couple of good photos to justify the time spent driving all that way.

I checked into my cabin and spent dusk and dark looking at the twinkling lights from the valley. I took some timed exposures of the lights below, but found out later that the bulb setting on my camera was not working at the time so I got black prints from the night shots. Not an altogether great trip so far.

The next morning I got up and checked out of the lodge, with every intention of just driving back down Skyline to Front Royal then heading home. But for some reason, instead of turning left on the drive, I turned right. I was getting frustrated with myself. For every mile I drove in the wrong direction it was an extra two miles I had added to my already unsatisfying trip. I had already driven past Big Meadows and was still being driven forward. I couldn't explain it. The longer I went, the more frustrating it was, but the more I wanted to continue.

Suddenly, about half a mile in front of me, I saw HUGE Buck cross the road and spring up a shallow bank of rock. How rare! I almost never see a buck, much less a big one like that. I quickly pulled off to the side of the road, dragging my tires through the soft shoulder (nearly sending me plummeting down into a gorge on the other side).

Catching my breath and getting my wits about me, I jumped from the truck camera in hand and ran to the spot where the Buck had entered the woods. I quickly found his tracks in the soft shoulder of the road and started to bound up the hill behind him. My ankle was throbbing. I was still recovering from the rupture of my Achilles in San Fran that spring. In my truck I had a walking stick that I started using when I took trips like this, but I wasn't about to let that Buck get any further ahead of me than he already was.

I ran as best I could through the dense brush and vines then slowed my pace as I got to a low rock out cropping then paused to listen. I stood for about five minutes hearing nothing but birds and wind. The air at that altitude was cold and the wind was whipping around my head and neck, sending shivers down my spine. In my rush to track the big deer, I had also neglected to put on my jacket.

I was about to turn and leave, once again frustrated by a fruitless trip. When out of the corner of my eye, I saw what looked like a bush, twisting from the base. I looked. There was my buck. He was layning down in a patch of vines. I approached cautiously. I knew that the fall rut was just beginning, and I didn't want to end up on the 'business end' of what turned out to be, a ten-point rack of antlers.

As I got closer, I realized that in my haste, I had neglected to put the long zoom on my Pentax body. I had a medium range zoom. To get a good photo, I would have to get much closer than I thought was prudent. I was down wind so he couldn't smell me and he was not looking in my direction. There was a group of rocks to the right so I slowly started moving around to the side. Walking on the sides of my feet, I approached until I was within 30 feet. I crouched and prepared my camera for the shoot while being mindful of the clump of rocks I was going to jump up to and over if the buck decided he was going to charge.

I sat for what must have been 20 minutes, waiting for the deer to do something. He was still laying on the ground and all I could see was his antlers. After a few more minutes I realized that he had either forgotten that I was there or hadn't known from the beginning. So I raised up and with one foot, moved a dead branch to a position to step on it. I raised my camera, and then stepped on the branch making a loud noise, which sent the deer up onto his feet, and spinning around in my direction. He looked at me for about two seconds, confused as my motor drive started turning the film through my camera, taking about 5 shots. I was about to get brave when he jumped straight up and out of the clump of vines and leaped past me, so close that I could smell his musky, dusty coat. I realized at once, that had he wanted to gore me with his antlers, there was no way I could have moved to the rocks quickly enough to avoid it.

I watched as he jumped and ran, weaving through the dense under-growth of the woods, before finally disappearing down a steep hill. I stood for several minutes, my heart beating heavily in my ears and sweat pouring down my back. Once I had calmed myself, I started hobbling back down the ridge to my truck. My ankle was swollen and throbbing and I was glad to finally sit again. But the drive home was peaceful. The trip had turned out to be exactly what I needed.