I have a problem. I wanted to take a break this week from writing about anything to do with hunting.  But…you guessed it, something happened this past week that I can’t let go by without putting it on paper.

Early bow deer season started bright and early on Thursday morning Sept. 27. I, having been in the hospital or home recovering all through last hunting season, had un-filled tags and went up to our hunting camp to take advantage of this extra four-day bonus period. 

Turns out that my good friend and hunting buddy, Scott, (I won’t tell you his last name is Nelson because I want to keep this anonymous) also had an unfilled tag and he joined me at camp.

Now Scott (no last name) is a great hunter and an equally good outdoorsman. He knows his way in the woods and is someone I totally trust as a hunting partner.

However, Scott is not what I would refer to as a marksman with a bow. He has been known to shoot at and miss a fair number of deer in the past few years. That all ended this past week.

One other thing you need to know about Scott is that he likes to talk.  The man can use more words in once sentence than any person I’ve ever met and has an endless storage of stories to which these sentences can be applied. We now have another to add to that list.

He and I hunted on Thursday and suffered through a difficult hunting day created by a combination of a very bright full moon and some heavy rain storms with wind mixed in. Not a good combination for hunting.

That evening, we decided to drive to a local pub to have dinner.  During dinner, I was bringing Scott up to date on the Hunter Safety Training course I had just completed teaching the previous weekend.

A portion of that course has to do with shoot placement, where you should aim to hit a deer from different angles, to assure a clean kill. 

The following morning, we were both in our respective tree stands nice and early. A couple of hours later, my two way radio crackles.

“Dick, can you hear me?”

“Yeah Scotty, go ahead.”

“I need some help. I’ve just hit one.”

“Okay, sit tight. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

I packed up my gear, climbed down out of my tree stand, hiked up the hill to my Jeep and drove the short distance to where Scott parks his truck. I then hiked up to where I found him waiting for me. 

“This is where I hit it,” he said. “I think I have blood here.”

He says he “thinks” he has blood because Scott is red/green color blind and can’t really see if those spots on the leaves are red or not. But, he was right, they were blood spots. It was very easy to follow the trail and within a few minutes, we found his deer.

When I use the word small when referring to a deer…well, let me try to put it in perspective.

If you were to say that an average size deer is equal in size to Dodge Ram 1500 pick-up truck, this deer was a Tonka Toy. But, it was perfectly legal and who am I to criticize. But the day doesn’t end there. 

You see, it’s now Friday and when we return to camp, we find that a couple of other of our club members had joined us. So, this provides Scott with an increased audience to tell his latest story. But, the day doesn’t end here either.

We go back out that afternoon to hunt again. I returned to camp just before dark and was sitting with the others who had come into camp.

Suddenly, I realize that it’s dark and I jump up and said “Scotty’s not back. He must have something down and needs help.”

So I stepped out on the porch and called to him on the radio.  Sure enough, he needed help again.

When we arrived to assist, guess what? You got it - another Tonka Toy! If one full-size deer is a porterhouse steak, these two combined, might be equal to a Swedish meatball.

But, with two kills in one day…the fuel for this story will last forever. God help us all. See you outdoors!