During the limited time I was in Bossier-Shreveport we had a team-bonding weekend in Tallulah, Mississippi at our owner’s hunting camp. The hunting camp was on a massive property that had an ample supply of deer and several ponds filled with alligators. It was a great place to get away and bond with your new team-mates.
The first night we were there, four of us decided to take out four-wheelers and cruise around the trails. We were flying high and having a great time ripping around in the dirt and mud. It was pitch black out and we didn’t realize how big the property actually was. The trails were like a maze and it wasn’t long before we were completely lost.
We stopped and looked around to see if we could figure out where we were but there was no light in sight. As we were stopped, we could hear the sloshing of some alligators in a nearby swamp. After hearing that, we decided we better keep moving.
All of a sudden, some light came into view in the distance and as we got closer we realized that it was coming from a hunting camp. We were saved! As we drew closer and the camp came into focus we began to realize that it wasn’t our owner’s hunting camp. Once we realized it wasn’t where we wanted to be, we turned back and headed the other way.
Just as we made a loop to head back, a white pickup truck came barrelling up behind us with flood lights on. I was at the back of the pack of our four-wheelers and this pick-up was practically riding my back tires. We were flying and had the four-wheelers going full-tilt but this truck kept gaining on us. All of a sudden we ducked into a side path that eventually ended with a dead end at a swamp.
As we came to a stop, the owner of the truck leapt out and cocked his shotgun and pointed it at us. At this point my heart-rate was through the roof. I was thinking, “This is it. I’m going to die in this swamp.” We began to panic.
One of the guys shouted out that we were here with the hockey team and we were staying at John Madden’s (Not the former NFL coach) camp as part of a team-bonding trip. As soon as he heard this he shouted out in his thick Cajun accent, “Well why didn’t y’all say so! I thought y’all were poachers!” He then invited us back for a beer at his camp. We went back with him and had a few beers and swapped stories, all the while laughing about our close brush with death out in the Mississippi swamp.