Found out this morning that I lost my hunting pard in a motorcycle accident last night. He was 42. He left behind 5 children and a beautiful and loving wife. I'm posting this here becuase only fellow hunters understand the bond between lifelong hunting partners. I met this fine gentleman when I was 12 years old and we have tormented all living creatures (fur/fin/feather with rod/rifle/stick & string)from Hastings to Escanaba over the past 30 years. I am, quite simply, crushed.
The bond that we have with our hunting pards is based on the simplest of things, and that is why the bond is so strong. Its based on things we understand and hold most dear. All morning the memories have just been streaming...first bow kills, deer camps, trout streams, favorite dogs, favorite bows, rifles, fly rods, trucks, falling out of trucks, smashing trucks, trap lines, freezing cold, Red Man, getting stuck, favorite blinds, processing deer, meals of venison, fresh brook trout, and deer heart sandwiches.
Do yourself a favor. If you have a buddy that you haven't talked to in awhile, pick up the phone and give him/her a call, then go hunting. Every day is a gift!! No regrets.
My by-line is a quote from my hunting pard. I guess now he knows if there are whitetails and brookies in heaven. Just in case, I'm going to leave a few dry flies and some cartridges under a log where Eli Creek meets the Ford River. Because to him, that's where heaven is, and I've got a feeling he'll be needing them.
Best regards and have a safe hunting season.
Topic: Lost My Hunting Pard (Read 2927 times)
