For the past 5 years, Dad and I have been going camping and hunting on opening day of deer season, and it has become something I look forward to more and more. It is a time that I know I'll look back on when I'm old (that'll be in about 5 months when I turn 30) and think of with a smile. Most years we've gotten something, at least a doe, but this year was the best time we've ever had.
A family friend who hasn't hunted very much, Greg, went with us this year. After setting out tree stands up, we went back to the camp site, cooked a potato and steak for each us, slathered them in butter (that's right both the steak and the potato), and ate out side like men. Later of course I had my chai tea and Nutella like an European or Indian man, the steak and potato was Mid-west man. During this time we saw, what we'd call redneck humor. A camper pulled up, some fellas got out and set their beer and other important things on the picnic table. They then opened the camper door, brought out a bunch of firewood (we though this odd as the back of the truck was empty) and then next started to roll a tire out. It went down one step, then the second step, and then hit the ground. You see where this is going, the tire just kept rolling, down the hill from the camper and the slightly over weight, cut off flannel shirt guy, trying to keep his pants up while chasing the tire yelling "Oh S&#!" and hoping to stop it before it went pummeling another campers site. It was a good laugh for us.
We then played a couple games, which I've brought on this very trip before, in which Greg used his cunning to defeat us at Small World. Then he took a real liking to the bottle in Bottle Imp and was disposed of. It was getting late about this time, say 8:30 at least, so we turned in for the night. We woke up the next morning at 4:45AM and took off to kill some deer.
I was in my tree and ready to go at 6:46. About 7 o'clock I saw a silhouette on the top of the hill, heard the deer walking around a bit, but never saw him. I continued to wait patiently and about 8 o'clock, among the war sounds that is opening day on public ground, I once again saw a silhouette going the opposite direction at the top of the hill. I thought he had gone on by, but as luck would have it, he did an about face, stepped into my line of sight for a brief moment, and without hesitation I shot a 6-point buck at about 65-70 yards. I was excited! I waited 45 minutes or so, continuing to hear coming from the direction of Dad and Greg, and then texted them (yeah, we're high tech deer hunters) about 9 saying, I was going to get down and clean my buck. I looked up from texting and now see a doe, padding her way towards me, looking over her shoulder (on opening day the deer are a bit skittish and I don't blame them). She heard a shot, paused for about ten minutes behind some brush, I couldn't get a shot on her. Finally, she moved and I was able to take her as well at about 25 yards. Two deer in one day! Never thought I'd do that.
To make a long story shorter, Dad also got one that day, so we had 3 deer to check in and drop off at the meat locker. We were all so tired and worn out from dragging and driving, we decided to call it a successful weekend and packed up to hit the road home. So after 5 years, I'd say camping and hunting has become a great tradition with my Dad and I. Maybe it'll continue with myself and Kaylee or maybe the tradition then will be going to some American Girl doll convention. Whatever it is, family traditions whether during the holidays or just the regular days are good things.
|The spoils. That's three deer you see there or as I like to think of it, that's some good eatin'.|