bang, bang, bang, I woke up at 1:00am to gun fire about fifty feet from where I was sleeping. I was camping right next to the bayou just north of Baton Rouge. Before I went to bed, I had noticed that there were tracks on the sand that I had never seen before. I was pretty sure they were gator tracks but what do I really know about gators. I had rowed fifty miles, and it was going to be dark in 10 minutes so they would have to share their space with me for the night. I believe they spend most of the night in the water anyways, so I wasn't that worried about getting eaten.
If anyone out there has seen me when I wake up, I can be kind of confused and waking up to gun fire is not such a great feeling. You could tell by the gun shot the person was firing a small caliber bullet like a .22 or something like that. Sitting in my tent, I wondered how a .22 could kill a gator. It seemed a little dangerous to try and kill a gator with a .22. I looked out of my tent and there were two men. One with a pistol and the other with a bow; both were drunk as can be. They had big head lamps on their head looking at the shore trying to find things to shoot. For a while I thought that maybe I should call out to them and try to get an interview, but in the end I decided not to poke the drunk, armed rednecks. After a while, it started to look like they weren't hunting gators. I think they where hunting frogs but who really knows. They kept me up for a half hour with their lights and guns, but eventually I fell asleep after they disappeared into the swamp. Hopefully no more swamp people cross my path tonight.
If anyone out there has seen me when I wake up, I can be kind of confused and waking up to gun fire is not such a great feeling. You could tell by the gun shot the person was firing a small caliber bullet like a .22 or something like that. Sitting in my tent, I wondered how a .22 could kill a gator. It seemed a little dangerous to try and kill a gator with a .22. I looked out of my tent and there were two men. One with a pistol and the other with a bow; both were drunk as can be. They had big head lamps on their head looking at the shore trying to find things to shoot. For a while I thought that maybe I should call out to them and try to get an interview, but in the end I decided not to poke the drunk, armed rednecks. After a while, it started to look like they weren't hunting gators. I think they where hunting frogs but who really knows. They kept me up for a half hour with their lights and guns, but eventually I fell asleep after they disappeared into the swamp. Hopefully no more swamp people cross my path tonight.
