Deer Hunting - A Family Tradition
Today, my father and I finished up a 3 day deer hunt. It has become a "family tradition" of sorts, getting together in early November for the start of muzzle loader season. I really enjoy black powder hunting. Although I have an "in-line" rifle, it still seems sort of rustic, in a way. You have one shot, and you have to make it count.
What made this hunt special was my son Alex got to go with us all day on Tuesday (school was closed) and on Wednesday afternoon. Alex went hunting last year with us, too. But I think he enjoyed it more this year, and I think he is well on his way to loving and respecting it as much as my dad and I do.
Earlier this month, I found a photo that I had Photoshopped several years ago.
Here it is:
Who knew I could see the future?
Believe it or not, I was actually anti-hunting several years ago. Then my Dad taught me that it wasn't all about the kill. It is about waking up very early, getting coffee, riding in near silence to the property you hunt on. There is little conversation, but there doesn't need to be. So much is said without words. Memories are made that will never be forgotten. You exit the Jeep, and put your heavy hunting gear on and make sure it is squared away. Jacket...check. Second pair of pants....check. Gun...check. Hand warmers....check. Ammo...check. Hat...check. Then, you separate. Alex chose to go with Dad that first morning (after the rain stopped).
They don't know I snapped this picture when they were headed to their spot. They also don't know that I got choked up watching them, thinking back a few years to the first time Dad and I hunted together.
As they disappear into the woods, I head to my stand. It is a long, chilly walk. The air is so clear it tastes almost sweet. You try to make as little noise as possible. You can see your breath. You stop every few steps and listen for the sound of hoof steps crunching in the leaves.
You get to your stand and do a last minute equipment check. Once you go up, you need to stay up. To come back down is to make too much noise. Check the gun to make sure there is no primer in place. Attach the pull rope to the gun and start climbing. You get to the height you want to be at. Make sure the stand is secured. A fall at this point would make for a very, very bad day. Sit down and pull the gun up. Insert the primer and wait for daybreak.
While sitting there, listen for the sound of either Dad or Alex shooting.
And then, enjoy the woods. There is nothing like it. Nothing at all.
The coffee in the thermos tastes delicious. The view is beautiful. If you haven't experienced it, you need to. And, if you have a son or daughter that shows an interest, bring them. Turn off the Xbox and the internet, and get out in the woods. "Bonding" and "quality time" are almost cliche' now, but they both describe the experience well.
Squirrels sound like deer walking. Leaves falling sound like deer walking. But then, when a deer appears, seemingly from thin air, your heart skips a beat. Your pulse increases, every move you make sounds deafening. You raise the gun ever so slowly and take aim. Then it is just you and the deer. I did manage to take a nice 4 point buck during this trip. I realize some people are squeamish, so I won't put the picture in the blog. You can, however, see my deer here.
On Wednesday afternoon, Alex came with me. His Grandpop had been hooking him up with sugarless candies, but I had none. For an 11 year old, he "gets" hunting. He appreciates the sights, sounds and smell of the woods. And the thrill of the hunt. In fact, we had the largest 8 point buck I have ever seen walk within 20 feet of us. He saw us before we could shoot, but we will be talking about that for a long time to come.
On the ride home that night, I told Alex that the vast hunting knowledge that his Grandpop was sharing with him, along with the tiny bit I know, came with a price. He is required to "pay it forward" to his son someday. (That will mean I will be a grandfather then....YIKES!) He promised he would.
Alex and I will go hunting several more times this season, I am sure. And he will remember it for a long time to come. But the memories from hunting with his "Pop" are the ones that will stay with him the longest.
They always do for me.
That's me. And my DAD. Accept no substitutes, as there are none. I love you, Pop.
I mentioned in a previous post about the most important thing in life, and that stands true today.
And that thing, is family.
If you took the time to read this far, thank you. And trust that every word I say is the truth.
And that, gentle reader, is that.
Stay tuned...............
What made this hunt special was my son Alex got to go with us all day on Tuesday (school was closed) and on Wednesday afternoon. Alex went hunting last year with us, too. But I think he enjoyed it more this year, and I think he is well on his way to loving and respecting it as much as my dad and I do.
Earlier this month, I found a photo that I had Photoshopped several years ago.
Here it is:
Who knew I could see the future?
Believe it or not, I was actually anti-hunting several years ago. Then my Dad taught me that it wasn't all about the kill. It is about waking up very early, getting coffee, riding in near silence to the property you hunt on. There is little conversation, but there doesn't need to be. So much is said without words. Memories are made that will never be forgotten. You exit the Jeep, and put your heavy hunting gear on and make sure it is squared away. Jacket...check. Second pair of pants....check. Gun...check. Hand warmers....check. Ammo...check. Hat...check. Then, you separate. Alex chose to go with Dad that first morning (after the rain stopped).
They don't know I snapped this picture when they were headed to their spot. They also don't know that I got choked up watching them, thinking back a few years to the first time Dad and I hunted together.
As they disappear into the woods, I head to my stand. It is a long, chilly walk. The air is so clear it tastes almost sweet. You try to make as little noise as possible. You can see your breath. You stop every few steps and listen for the sound of hoof steps crunching in the leaves.
You get to your stand and do a last minute equipment check. Once you go up, you need to stay up. To come back down is to make too much noise. Check the gun to make sure there is no primer in place. Attach the pull rope to the gun and start climbing. You get to the height you want to be at. Make sure the stand is secured. A fall at this point would make for a very, very bad day. Sit down and pull the gun up. Insert the primer and wait for daybreak.
While sitting there, listen for the sound of either Dad or Alex shooting.
And then, enjoy the woods. There is nothing like it. Nothing at all.
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The coffee in the thermos tastes delicious. The view is beautiful. If you haven't experienced it, you need to. And, if you have a son or daughter that shows an interest, bring them. Turn off the Xbox and the internet, and get out in the woods. "Bonding" and "quality time" are almost cliche' now, but they both describe the experience well.
Squirrels sound like deer walking. Leaves falling sound like deer walking. But then, when a deer appears, seemingly from thin air, your heart skips a beat. Your pulse increases, every move you make sounds deafening. You raise the gun ever so slowly and take aim. Then it is just you and the deer. I did manage to take a nice 4 point buck during this trip. I realize some people are squeamish, so I won't put the picture in the blog. You can, however, see my deer here.
On Wednesday afternoon, Alex came with me. His Grandpop had been hooking him up with sugarless candies, but I had none. For an 11 year old, he "gets" hunting. He appreciates the sights, sounds and smell of the woods. And the thrill of the hunt. In fact, we had the largest 8 point buck I have ever seen walk within 20 feet of us. He saw us before we could shoot, but we will be talking about that for a long time to come.
On the ride home that night, I told Alex that the vast hunting knowledge that his Grandpop was sharing with him, along with the tiny bit I know, came with a price. He is required to "pay it forward" to his son someday. (That will mean I will be a grandfather then....YIKES!) He promised he would.
Alex and I will go hunting several more times this season, I am sure. And he will remember it for a long time to come. But the memories from hunting with his "Pop" are the ones that will stay with him the longest.
They always do for me.
That's me. And my DAD. Accept no substitutes, as there are none. I love you, Pop.
I mentioned in a previous post about the most important thing in life, and that stands true today.
And that thing, is family.
If you took the time to read this far, thank you. And trust that every word I say is the truth.
And that, gentle reader, is that.
Stay tuned...............
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