The other day Jenn sat in my SUV for the first time in quite a while and immediately said, “Oh dear! I guess it’s bow season for deer again.”
“And here I thought you never paid any attention to the hunting seasons,” I said.
“I don’t,” she replied. “But your car clearly smells like deer apples, deer mix and Tink’s doe-in-heat attractant scent.”
We rolled down the window and started driving towards our destination. But her observation got me thinking.
“It is that obvious?” I asked.
“Sure, it is. I bet I can tell you every season just by the way your car smells,” she said.
“I strongly doubt it,” I countered.
“How about winner buys lunch?” she said.
“You are on,” I replied.
She then went on to recite what was a truly astonishing and mostly accurate list of scents and their corresponding sporting seasons.
“During the ice fishing season,” she said, “your car always smells like frozen coffee, soaked mittens, lake ice and a week-old bait bucket.”
As much as I would have liked to, I could not honestly disagree. In fact, she was absolutely correct.
“During the smelt season, it smells like soaked boot liners, creek bottom mud and an old dip net.”
“Amazing,” I said.
“During the wild turkey season,” she continued, “all I can smell in here is damp feathers, a hint of gun oil and the overwhelming odour of insect repellent.”
Again, she was spot on.
“Trout season,” she explained, “unleashes that unforgettable odour of sweaty neoprene waders, Deep Woods Off and damp fish nets.”
“You have an excellent memory,” I finally conceded.
“Thanks,” she replied. “I’m thinking I might want a nice soup and salad.”
“Not so fast. What about bass season?” I asked. “Does that have a smell too?”
“That’s easy. Sunscreen, shore lunch, sweat and flooded outboard,” she quickly replied.
She then went on to describe how my car smelled during bear season, which according to her was like 400 assorted donuts and a half-finished cups of black coffee.
“Heck, that donut smell is so persistent,” she said. “It lingered right into the early goose season.”
She then noted that early goose season smelled like freshly mowed hay with a hint of golf course.
“You’re forgetting duck season,” I said.
Oh , no, I’m not. Early duck season,” she answered,“smells like wet dog, dried marsh mud and woodduck feathers. Late duck season smells like a combination of that, plus diving ducks and a hint of ice fishing.”
She then went on to describe grouse hunting, which according to her smelled strongly of muddy dog and wild apples. And you know, I believe she was right.
I had to admit, she had captured and described the smells of each season to a tee.
And, as if that weren’t enough, she then mentioned that during the winter hare season, the car smelled like hound dogs and runny noses – which, I thought, was an inspired description.
I was ready to concede defeat when it suddenly occurred to me, I had not hunted bear this year.
Suddenly I was faced with a decision
It was either admit that and win the bet– or finally confess that I might have developed a bit of a donut problem last spring.
I thought about it and said, “You win. Where would you like to go for lunch?”
“It’s OK,” she said. “I’m not all that hungry.”
So, I took her for coffee and a donut instead.