I'm fortunate to still be able to hunt a piece of property that even my Dad hunted on.. In fact, he and his childhood friend hunted on this tract since the early '60's. I learned to hunt on this land.
They grew up together and both served during World War ll.. They hunted many different areas during their lives but during the last 40 years or so almost all of their hunting was on this piece of property that I hunted this evening. At some point during their time here they parked a small trailer in an oak groove and called it camp. I built them a porch on the side of the little trailer where they cooked and enjoyed a toddy after an evenings hunt. I often spent time with them after their hunts, just listening and visiting about things past and present. The current events revolved mostly around hunting!
I remember many good deer that wound up hanging from a tree limb just outside of camp and then an evening celebration would begin..
I didn't think I was going to able to hunt this evening due to work even though I had planned on being in the woods.. As the day wound down it appeared as if I'd have an hour or so to go.. I keep most of my gear in the truck this time of the year so I grabbed my bow and hurried to my parking spot, which happened to be Dad's old hunting camp.
After slipping on my daypack I picked up my bow and crossed a four wire fence to go towards my treestand. It just happened to be one that I could get to the quickest, given the short amount of time I had. I got in the stand and the mosquitoes were buzzing about. As much as I hate to, I sprayed my face and hands with repellent.
Just before dark what I gauged as a 2 1/2 year old 8 point came through.. I thought he had a lot of room to grow if he could just get a few years older. I enjoyed his company and in a few minutes he ambled on and out of my sight. Dark settled in and I climbed down and gathered my gear. A little headlight sure makes walking out in the dark easier. So, with my daypack on and my bow in my hand I started back towards my truck.
After crossing a creek and then the fence I found myself on edge of Dads camp. In the dim glow of my headlight I could see Dad and Dick sitting under the porch, drink in hand, cooking something for dinner. As I gazed off to the right towards the "hanging tree" I saw a great buck that Pops had killed. And on another limb hung a buck that Dick had shot. As I closed my eyes memories of many other bucks and campfires came flooding back. What a great place and time this old camp was!
Dad and his best friend, Dick, passed away 6 or 7 years ago. I miss them all the time, but particularly during deer season.
Great memories, all !!
Good hunting guys