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It is a special time of the year. No, I am not referring to the joy of that greatest holiday, Christmas. But, of course, I mean deer season and that passion that is carried in the genes of so many hunters.
This feeling is not only a dream of big deer with those huge antlers that look too big for any sensible whitetail buck to carry, it is also a dream of that magical hunt in pristine conditions outdoors. For many years, my call is that call back to those mountains. It overcomes my need to watch those Sunday games that remind me of gladiator games. They keep multitudes of people entertained including, at times, myself. But for me it is the draw of those mountains and the natural world that calls. Some people find their call like me, in a peaceful valley or a growth of mature trees. These things renew me. Sometimes it is a hunt in a wilder place, even if the game is scarce there.
That is why opening day of many a deer season found me staying in a cabin somewhere in McKean or Potter County. Potter County isn’t called God’s country for nothing. I watched quietly as Eileen read to the grandchildren from a book called “The Giving Tree.” How appropriate that book was. I think the Native Americans had the correct outlook as they didn’t believe that anyone owned the land. The land belonged to all people and they hunted it. I suppose they did drive a herd of Bison off a cliff, and that could hardly be called conservation, but, hey, they were still basically correct.
There is no shortage of land up north to hunt. Those confrontations over a woodlot or stand are far rarer in the wilds of Elk County than here at home. It is the wildness of these natural spots that draw me, and many others, to the mountains. I find renewal among hemlocks during bear season, for I tend to hunt deer near home. While the hunt near home is a hunt for game, up north it is the snow on the hemlock that offers more. I can stand for hours and just think about Eileen and how much she loved the outdoors. To her the woods and the outdoors were just as important as the buck, regardless of size. She carried her weight and bagged many good deer but she loved the outside world regardless of the outcome. It was the natural world that appealed to the little lady and she had come to terms with her place in the scheme of things.
I am thinking back on these times as I prepare to make a trip out to a new hunt. Hopeful that this trip will take me on a new adventure, in a new place, in a strange part of this natural world. I am sure there will be things forgotten and some teasing and camaraderie that will help make this trip memorable. I hope to write a nice article next week about this trip. Of course, I can hope it will include a story of a nice big buck and a great story of the fantastic shot I made.
I like to see new areas of our beautiful earth and I am betting on my years of experience to carry me through the hunting aspect. I am more than lucky to still be hunting at this age. Hopefully, we will be successful in our hunt for Mr. Big Buck, but even if we aren’t I am willing to bet that it will be the oft-repeated tales and memories of this trip that makes it all worthwhile.