#macado's

Deer season in November versus deer season in December is like comparing New Years Eve to Valentine’s Day for a single lad like myself. Generally on NYE I’m surrounded by friends and throwing down shots with strangers. However on Valentine’s Day I find myself at home, alone, thinking about how dumb a holiday it is. Similarly in the woods during December, I find myself alone, no animals let alone deer, thinking about how dumb this time of year in a treestand is. 

December had approached and I was unlucky enough to draw a quota hunt on a piece of public land in Farmville, Virginia. That’s right I say unlucky because I had been there three weeks prior on a hunting buddy’s quota hunt where we concluded there were no deer on the property. The Wildlife Management Area was but a hunt club four years prior before being purchased by the state and I have my wonders whether those dog running hoodlums cleaned the place dry. A present-day antler point restriction of four points per side would make me believe that was the case. On the bright side, it was the last day of rifle season, it was a doe day, and Farmville has some dynamite food destinations to gorge oneself close by. So I drug my brother out of bed at a ripe 4:30 a.m. to beat the sun into the woods.

Three weeks prior I had nearly lost in on this land. I hiked so deep in there that the return trip nearly killed me.The shit I had to walk through to get back, in the then warm November afternoon. Knee deep swamps, up and down rolling hills, brush so thick you needed a running start to get through it. I fell to my knees when I reached the truck… “Never again,” I said, “Never again”. But oh how wrong was I. You see in my sleep deprived, physically fatigued stupor, I forgot about the trail camera I had set up months prior in anticipation for my quota hunt. So if we’re being completely honest, I was going to get a $75 trail camera, rifle by my side with a better chance of being mauled by a black bear than laying eyes on a deer.

Oh the joys of public land… I arrived that morning to find a truck parked on the trail head leading to my forsaken trail camera. Not wanting to bust in on the poor sap’s hunt, my brother and I decided to head across the street to a spot unfamiliar to us. Due to the newness of the area we devised a plan to split the piece in two. He would go right and I would go left, that way, God willing, we wouldn’t shoot one another.

The morning went by as they usually do in Farmville… spooked some animals on the walk in and sat on a hillside to watch the stillness of a vacant woods. After an hour or two sitting on the hillside, I decided to give still hunting a go. The off and on rain gave me some cover to move without causing a ruckus. And so the process began, Id take a step, 1 Mississippi… 2 Mississippi… when on the count of 30 I’d ever so gingerly move one foot in front of the other. At an excruciatingly painful pace, I inched through the woods. 

By about 10:30 A.M. I had had enough. I could nearly see the car, however I stubbornly vowed to uphold the still hunting method until I reached the field in which I walked in on. I was in no hurry, I had no plans, most importantly no deer to chase. At this point I was in what one would describe as a meditative, zen state focusing on the counting in my head and the one foot in front of the other when FOOTSTEPS!!

A doe busting over the hill at full speed. I raised my rifle in shock but before my brain could register the rare sight of a deer, she was gone… much like a mirage.

 “What the hell pushed her like that?”

I went to shoot a text to my brother, check in where he was, but before I could unlock the phone, busting over the very same hill the doe had seconds ago surfaced was an orange blob, rifle raised scanning the area. I waved at him.. And waved at him. Unlocked my phone and dialed his number. “Hey what's up I’m on a doe!  Just had my cross hairs on her.” “I know,” I replied “Look down to your left…”

And that was our excitement for the day, an inadvertent deer drive that likely pushed the only deer in Farmville to the next county...

Lucky for us, our morning had been expected. And when you plan for the worst, you finish off a hunt with a burger that numbs any and all pain. And if you’re in Farmville, Virginia, you’ll find that burger at the local Macado’s. With over 20 locations in the fine states of Virginia, Tennessee, and North Carolina, The “Do” perfectly compliments a bustling college town like a cold beer compliments a burger. Macado’s boasts a long list of artfully named sandwiches with all your favorites like the Hindenburg, a sandwich so big it’ll blow you up or the Carpetbagger a delicious “wich” with influences from the North. The list of sandwiches is large enough to capture any stomach’s attention, but about two years ago I flipped the menu over and ordered a burger… And man am I glad I did.

My poison of the day was the Boomer Burger, a half pound patty covered in melted nacho cheese, onions and sauteed jalapenos. Just after it arrived, the waitress turned around with the check. “Strange?” I thought, until I realized the burger had vanished...

I’ve read many articles about the infamous “Flow State.” The optimal frequency which a human functions, where a task causes one to be fully immersed in a project, losing perception of time and space around him or herself. That is how I describe my lunch that day. “What have I done,” I pondered out loud. The waitress was kind enough to fill me in...

I looked down, there was nacho cheese everywhere. Down my arm, on my shirt. The half pound burger had put up a fight but was beat down with the help of two bud lights and an intensity of unrelenting commitment. In a trance, I was pulled in time and time again by the mouth watering bun. A toasted outer shell with a soft, slightly sweet middle, paired with the salty nacho cheese and a hint of spice from the pickled ja-LAP-enos. The burger never stood a chance.

I always leave Macado’s satisfied, whether I’m in Farmville, Harrisonburg, Roanoke, Lexington, etc. Good food, great services.. Yada yada. But here’s something they don’t tell you about Macado’s… If you eat a burger with jalapenos and nacho cheese… Go ahead and clear out your afternoon. My Saturday afternoon was an alternating rotation from the bathroom to the shower and back again.

Looks like you got the last laugh, Boomer Burger. But I’d like to take a moment to thank our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for college football and the ESPNTV app. Sometimes we all need some love and support on the John.

Pendleton @ Macado's

Hit the spot! I have not had a sandwich here that didn't make me come back for more. This one has turkey, hot pastrami & Swiss cheese!