Standing at the window, peering into the first traces of daylight and a new day, it was hard to decide. There was a little cold snap earlier in the week, but today it was supposed to get into the 40’s. It really wouldn’t be bad temperature wise. It was very tempting to think about just walking back to the bedroom and getting under the covers. No one would know, he was at camp alone and no one was waiting for him. Going to the front porch he stood for a minute and let the cold air wash over him pulling him away from thoughts of sleep. He watched a little gang of crows fly over chattering about where to go to breakfast.
He decided to join them. He would get a biscuit, pull on too many clothes, grab the little .450 rifle, and go for a slow walk in the woods. Why wouldn’t you? He thought to himself. Season is in for a few more days, you probably won’t see another soul, and the bucks will have settled down from their jitters when the crowd was here. He had a thought about where to go, a lofty ridge that eventually flattened out a little and walking it wasn’t too bad, not too bad for this country anyway. It was up high and he hoped the wind wouldn’t be too bad today.
As hunters we are often faced with a strange scenario. We seem to wait and anticipate all year for the coming of our favorite seasons, be it for deer, turkeys, squirrels or whatever we think of as favorites. Time goes by and before we know it the season is here, often we are not ready, it just seems to sneak up on us. The first week of deer season, usually thought of as the rifle buck season gets most of the fanfare and is the time of the most boots on the ground, it puts more hunters in the woods than any season of the year.
In truth though it is often the first three days or so of this highly anticipated week that get most of the activity. In my home state of West Virginia the first week of the buck season always starts the Monday before Thanksgiving. (It varies from year to year but often Virginia has the same first week as well) So usually what happens is many hunters go to the woods for opening day and many travel to traditional deer camps for this week. After the first three days of season though a lot of hunters pack up and head home to be there for the turkey and family and football of Thanksgiving Day. You can’t blame them, being together with family on this day is a deep rooted tradition. The result of this is these first three days often account for the bulk of the deer kill of this season. If there is bad weather, especially rain for these three days, the deer kill will often be greatly reduced.
He spent the first hour getting only about 100 yards out the ridge he had picked but that was what he had planned. Slow and easy, one or two steps at a time. Stop. Look around, really look around, peering into the gloom for a hint of movement. It might be an old buck taking a step. In truth he hadn’t seen much “chasing” lately, bucks chasing does all over the woods as they do in the rut. But he didn’t believe all the chatter at the country store about the rut being over, patience is the biggest virtue of a hunter the thought.
After 200 yards he found a decent place to sit for a while. It was a shallow low gap on the ridge and it was really too steep on both sides for his liking, but that is what this country was like. Steep and rough. This wasn’t a farmland woodlot easy stroll. He wondered how much longer he would be able to or want to come here. The deer were here and using this area however, and the sign told him so. Rubs on the trees from bucks honing their antlers and scrapes on the ground dug into the leaves gave him confidence in this place.
He was encouraged by seeing a few squirrels working the forest floor and their movements usually got him excited for a second before he identified what it was. He was ready to move off of the root or rock he had been sitting on when he caught a flicker of something below him and froze. On the edge of a small thicket 75 yards away he began to make out the body of deer but couldn’t tell if it was buck or doe. He strained his eyes for several minutes trying find an antler and reminded himself he needed to get his eyes checked.
With his heart rate up watching the deer he thought of all the controversy over deer and deer antlers. Just taking a legal buck with forked antlers didn’t seem to be good enough to many hunters these days. Calls for changes in regulations and hunting laws were constantly being discussed in the form of antler restrictions making hunters wait for bigger racks. In truth he didn’t really understand all this. If you want to take a spike or a little basket six point, it should be your choice. He put it all away when the deer finally took a step but he still couldn’t see its head.
Easing up the rifle he put the scope on the deer and though he could see much better the head and shoulders were still shrouded in the thicket. He realized his heart rate was increasing and he was toying with idea of touching the trigger. He let himself glance to the left at a movement and saw another squirrel dive off a tree. That’s when it happened, the deer snorted and he heard the unmistakable sounds of it stamping the ground challenging him. “Who are you?” What are you?” It seemed to say as he watched the prettiest bright eyed doe emerge from the thicket. Lowering the rifle caused the doe to snort again and bound away down the hill. He wished her well; he had the day and this wasn’t the only deer on this mountain. He was kinda looking forward to slinking through the woods to see what he could see.
He would just go hunt.
Larry Case.