Alan Liere: Things That Go snnnuckk-plluffffth-guckguck in the Night

Now that the big game hunting seasons are winding down, I hope to get some rest. Even though I was in bed by 7 p.m. each night in assorted elk and deer camps, I invariably came home red-eyed and sleep-deprived. Those who have never shared a wall tent with a big man with a broken nose cannot imagine how difficult it is to sleep with things that go “snnnuckk-plluffffth-guckguck” in the night.

I have been around some prodigious snorers in my hunting camps but Gary is the worst, and that includes my buddy, Mark. Mark, though, is a deep, pattern snorer. At night, each time he inhales, he sounds as if a large piece of his nasal passage has been torn away. But sometime during the night, I either get used to the monotonous thunder or he rolls over and the noise stops.

With Gary, the snoring never ceases.

Gary broke his nose playing college football and now, whether on his back or stomach, he sounds as if a wet sponge has been crammed down his throat and a baby’s squeaky squeeze toy has been shoved up each nostril.

He gurgles. He snorts. He whistles and he gasps. How he can do all this and maintain volume is a medical miracle.

One time on a bear hunt at Petit Lake up in the Kaniksu National Forest, the other two fellows in the tent not only went outside to sleep in their vehicles, they drove one-quarter mile down the road to keep them from vibrating. In the midst of his viscous, nocturnal routine, I lay awake and plotted all kinds of terrible revenge.

My taxidermist friend, Mike, once tried to muffle the noise by putting his long underwear bottoms on his head like a hat. He looked like he was rehearsing for the court jester part in some low-budget Shakespearean production.

When I startled Gary awake by tossing a wet sock at his head, Mike was about a finger snap away from a complete meltdown, and I’m pretty certain that one more drippy gurgle from Gary’s side of the tent would have put Mike over the edge. It is never a good idea to send a taxidermist over the edge; they keep a lot of really weird stuff in their duffels.

The last night in deer camp this year, some of the other guys suggested Gary could solve his snoring problems by having his nose re-broken. Sid even offered to do it for him. Now that the seed has been planted, I’m thinking that if Gary shows up for the annual trout opener/tenting extravaganza in April, Sid might have to stand in line to do the honors.