When I was 14 or 15 I had been badgering my dad to death to let me hunt by myself. Like most boys that age I was a true hunter, experienced, a master at my craft. A true phenom (I hope you guys can detect the sarcasm). Dad told me I could hunt alone, but if I was going to do it, I was going to do it ALL by myself. Scouting, stand hanging, preparing, all the things that go into the hunt. "I'll show him", says my brash teenage self.
At that time we lived close to a very large piece of public ground, but I needed permission to cross the neighbors land for access. Of course this was something Dad normally handled, however this time it fell to me. I mustered all my courage and one day after school sheepishly asked Mr. Doster if I could cross his land to hunt the forest service ground. He said "Of course you can"!! I was impressed with myself, not knowing that he had also granted half the county the same privilege.
I scouted heavily, or what I thought was heavily. I set my stand up in sight of a nice rub line, with a big hub scrape about 20 yards off to the North. It was all I could do to let my honey hole cool off a couple days, planning to hunt the next Saturday morning. In my teenage haste I managed to get into my tree a solid hour and half before daylight. A half hour before daylight I see a very faint light coming up the ridge. Not bright enough to be a flashlight. "What in the world is that", I thought to myself. The light would flicker, and brighten, then fade. Then I smelled it. It was tobacco!!!! Some dern yokel was stomping up my spot, and he was smoking while he was at it. He got right up on top of me, I was half scared for my life. I finally meekly said "excuse me, sir"...he turned inside out. I scared the poor guy out of his skin. He moved on, and now it was pink light. Just after legal shooting light I heard a rustling. Deer?? Nope, it was ANOTHER hunter. This one I could see plainly in his blaze orange. He was bold enough to ask me how my hunt was going and generally stomp up my spot even more. Disgusted, I climbed down and headed for home.
After telling dad the tale, he remained silent for a time. He didn't gloat, but I could tell I was about to learn something. He said "Thing about all that buck sign so close to the road, everyone see's it." That's all he ever allowed on the subject. I decided then and there that perhaps my apprenticeship wasn't over yet. It still isn't, not by a long shot.
Cool thread,
Jake