Another time;
One morning I was still hunting down a trail that was not to far from the WMA's boundary. I heard a guy coming up the trail from the direction of the road; so I sat down on a stump since I knew I wasn't going to see anything. Presently this guy walks up smoking a cigarette, carrying a shotgun in one hand and a beer in the other. He was making more noise than a herd of elephants.
I went home, and did not hunt that area for several years.
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