As I listened to sounds of boldness and bravery coming from around the bed of the pick-up truck, I snickered and pondered at how hard and difficult alligator hunting truly is. My husband, Jason, knowing that I would not back down, spoke up, dared me to “really see how hard and difficult it is”, and go on the next hunt. Shockingly to my surprise, the next alligator hunt was the following night. Before sun down the next night, I prepared for a night I would never forget. We loaded up the boat with all the equipment and were on our way to the lake. While Jason unloaded the boat into the water, the reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I became eager to get it over with, excited to see what all the fuss is and nervous not knowing what was about to happen.
Creeping down a small slew, I can hear the cicada’s most familiar hissing, rattling sound. I look straight and see the sun that has almost rested its eyes behind the horizon. The bull frogs are starting their musical symphony, as well as the birds crooning and an owl hooting in the distance. During this time of contentment, I almost forget the reason for being there, but my tension keeps me in check. I start thinking of losing a hand, falling into the water, and being in the dark. Just then, the slew opened from eerie moss covered low-lying limbs and a carpet of lily pads to a lake of glass.
The darkness was now all around us and the light from the moon was not quite bright enough, so we had to turn on our headlamps. Scanning the area around the boat, I noticed two sets of eyes glowing like freshly polished rubies. We eased the boat towards the bigger of the two eyes. My heart is now about to beat out of my chest, as we get closer and closer, but not too close, as it would spook him away. My hands are shaking like maracas, as I reach for the rod and reel, while still trying to be calm and quiet and keep the vibrations to a minimum. Directed to shine a spotlight just above the...