When the going gets tough

Deer hunting season, in my neck of the woods, runs from the start of September to the end of February. September hunting conjures up visions of balmy evenings on the hills admiring a golden sunset. In early September, flies are the main concern, and the rule of thumb is usually not to leave home without mozzie spray to keep the dreaded midges at bay. Ticks are number two on the list, and rubber gloves and a post-hunt shower and inspection are good deterrents. I have for the most part avoided any tick attachments, and I put this success down to wearing gaiters and having a healthy dose of paranoia.

I am usually well prepared for the foul weather that hits the Wicklow Mountains, but I have on occasion got caught out, and it’s usually in these wet and cold days that you realise the benefits of your ‘systems’. One such day was in early September; I and a hunting buddy took a mutual friend of ours out for a hunt on the hill. We started in the late afternoon and split up to make the most of the hours of daylight; the lads headed east and I headed west, which suited the prevailing north wind. The day had been