Hunting that is. 

A brief look back over the past couple of months worth of hunting reveales a below average season.  We collectively saw a lot of deer, but the harvest was pretty poor.  During bow season when either bucks or does could be taken, the weather was so warm it was very difficult to figure out just what the animals were going to do and what their movement patterns were.  Same held true for the early muzzle loading season when we could also take either sex.

Then, along came rifle season and we saw a lot of deer…..but no bucks.  Well, maybe just a few.  I think our camp count this season was around five.  It is usually closer to a dozen or more.  Last weekend in the season we bagged a beautiful eight pointer.  It was shot early in a drive over one of our favorite and most productive hills.  The fun part was in the tracking.  After being hit, it ran close to a half mile with very little of a track to follow.  It was fun testing my skills along with a couple of our younger hunters and my good friend Curt.  The reward of finding a downed animal this way is greater than the actual kill.  And to see the excitement in the younger guys is really fun.

The most rewarding part of the season was, as always, the companionship of my fellow hunters. 

It never ceases to amaze me how so many guys of different ages and life experiences can all blend together and have so damn much fun. 

Each season, a bunch of our guys take a break from hunting locally and head down into the southern zone near Oneonta for a few days.  I have tried to go with them in years past when I was still working and traveling all over the country and to South America and each year something screwed up my schedule and I couldn’t go.  Last year after I stopped working, I was really looking forward to going and wham! I had to have by-pass surgery.  If it wasn’t one thing, it was another.

But, this year, I got to go with them and I’ve got to tell you, I had a ball.  In addition to taking a medium sized spike horn buck, the social part of the trip was great.  We rented rooms in this old sleazy broken down motel for $59 a night and eight of us piled into three rooms for two nights. 

The only thing that worked in the place was the hot water.  You could par boil a chicken in that shower. But, after a day of hunting out in the cold and rain, it felt fantastic.  Inside the rooms looked like the local laundry.  We had heavy wet hunting clothes hanging from every thing that would hold up the weight and the heat was turned up as high as we could and still breathe.

Nearby there is a restaurant that serves a great Chinese all-you-can-eat buffet for something like a buck and an half.  Well, when we descended upon the place, it put a strain on the international relations between China and the U.S.  The food consumed by our group put the owners into shock. I think next year the price will have gone up a bit.  By the time we got back to our rooms, our clothes were surprisingly dry or at least dryer than when we left for dinner.

The highlight of the season, at least for me, was the company of Fred and Gifford Bull.  These brothers are two of the original founding members of our club.  They, along with five others, formed our club back in 1943 and now kicking 80 years old, the two of them still get out there and keep up with us “younger” guys.  And what great fun they are to talk to and to share their company.  I look forward to more years of hunting with both of them.  They enriched my life and

I can only hope that I touched theirs just a bit.

See you outdoors!