Aaron Akin
Something about the hunting season of 2018 seemed different. All summer long and into the fall I had this strong desire for this to be the year I get my first buck. Having only started hunting 4 years earlier I was starting to have doubts that the rich family tradition would continue with me. Sure, I thoroughly enjoyed going to camp, a yearly tradition that I am eternally grateful I didn’t wait much longer to start. But having “put in the time” as my pops would say I felt that maybe the stipulation I put on myself for bagging my first buck had to go.
Having not started hunting until the age of 32 might have had an effect on me. I constantly told myself and others that I wanted my first buck to be something…special. I’m sure that if I had started when I was a teenager, I would have shot the first spike horn I saw, but I figured if I’ve already waited this long then why not wait for a big one.
With each passing season and no deer yet the ridicule I was getting from friends, coworkers, and family was starting to pile up. “Aaron’s a big game hunter. He only shoots the big ones,” was heard more and more. So, this year I decided that maybe before I can get that first special one, I have to first get one. Maybe I had to prove to myself that I had it in me to kill a deer and learn from it before I could get a special one. Maybe…I haven’t earned it yet.
And so, on November 17, 2018 I headed out to my dad’s camp with a new determination. Any buck with at least a few inches on top I would take a shot at. My dad and uncle Rich would be arriving late that night after a week of hunting in Montana and I wanted them to arrive to a shoveled-out parking spot and a warm cabin to sleep in.
After a couple days spent hunting on the land behind my dad’s camp, we saw a couple does and plenty of tracks, but no bucks. My dad and I decided to try our luck elsewhere. I mentioned maybe Lampson Falls, a place he had told me about several times over the past few years that we just never got around to going to. It is an area of state land that’s only a ten-minute drive from the old man’s camp so we figured what the hell.
After parking the car, we began walking down a trail to get to our night watches. Both of us started getting excited because there was fresh deer tracks everywhere. About five minutes in I saw a deer up ahead bound up and over a high ledge on my right. We walked a little bit more when pops told me to go back where I saw the deer go over the ridge. He was going to circle around the back side of the ridge and climb to the top and I would come in low from the trail. I found a nice spot for a watch, but kept looking up at the high ridge overlooking everything in front of me. As the afternoon wore on and the longer I looked at that ridge the more I wanted to be up there. By the end of the watch I saw zero deer, but lots of tracks, a couple different beds and a couple rubs. Pops saw a spike horn and a doe and lots of tracks. Being the seasoned deer hunter he is, he immediately came up with a plan for the next morning.
Over dinner he explained that the deer were coming in low and hugging the ridge. They were either hugging the ridge all the way around to get to the river or following a small path that splits into two to get to the top of the ridge. His plan was to have two shooters on top of the ridge. One on the right to cover most of the low area and incase a deer goes to the river. Another on the left to cover the path that splits in two to get to the top of the ridge. One of us would stay on the trail going in and wait for the two on top to get in place then walk in to push any that might be down low. Rich and I both wanted to be on the ridge and my dad agreed to be down low. We all went to bed a little earlier that night since we would be getting up earlier to walk in in the dark.
We woke, had a cup of coffee, and headed on our way. The plan was in place. Something felt different. One of us was going to get lucky. I just knew it. We got to our parking spot and got ready to go. As we began walking down the path in the dark, I couldn’t help this overwhelming excitement that was building. I had to stop and slow down several times after noticing I was pulling ahead of my dad and uncle. When we got to the spot I had went in the day before my dad stopped and said to us, “alright, you guys go on ahead and circle around and up the back side of the ridge. When you get to the top one goes right and the other goes left. The one that goes left go about 100 yards and stay up high enough that you can see down to the two trails and see the property line down below.”
Off Rich and I went. By the time we circled the backside of the ridge and made it to the top it was just starting to get a little light out. We came to spot where pops turned right and I asked Rich one last time which way he wanted to go. Again, he said he was going right. I pointed out a high spot that I was going to go to and wished him luck. I started making my way there trying as best I could to be quick and quiet. To get to the spot I wanted to get to I had to climb down a ten-foot drop and work my way back up. After almost busting my ass getting down, I looked up and stared at a posted sign on a tree twenty feet in front of me. My first thought was, “this isn’t right. Pops said I’m supposed to be up high looking down at the posted sign.”
Looking back, I saw a spot that was higher up that I would probably be able to enough down below and still cover the two paths leading up the ridge. But I had to first climb back up from where I just almost fell. Up I went trying to hurry as best I could. I got up and half way there when I came to a dead stop. “Shit,” I thought. “from there I’m only going to be 70 yards or so from Rich and I can’t see much down below.”
There I stood, starting to panic. I was screwing this thing up before it even started. Several minutes passed while I was trying to decide what to do. It was getting brighter and brighter out and I was just standing there like a dumbass. Then my phone vibrated in my back pocket. It was a group message to my dad and I from Rich. I’m in place, it said. Seconds later my phone vibrated again. This time it was from my dad to just me. Aaron are you in place yet? Now I’m really getting nervous. I’m fucking this thing up. I looked back up at the high spot and then back at the lower spot near where I almost fell. My mind was made up. Lower spot it is.
Moving as quickly and quietly as I could I made it down the ledge and pulled out my phone. Rather than look like and ass and wait until I was settled in, I sent a text saying I was ready. I still had roughly five minutes until I got to my spot. I hustled to the one tree that was right between the two paths and kicked some snow out of the way around and took a deep breath. I looked around and decided after all that shit, I needed to sit for minute.
I looked at my watch. 6:43 am. Could have been worse. After a few minutes I decided I should stand up and clear out around the rest of the tree. As I was getting ready to stand, I saw a deer come bounding in 200 yards or so down low and to my left and lay down behind a tree. I put the scope on it but couldn’t tell what it was. Pretty sure it was a doe, but couldn’t tell. Well we’ll just wait and see I thought.
Sitting and leaning against the tree I could feel the anticipation growing. I didn’t want to stand and scare the deer off so I just sat there watching and waiting. I sent a message to Rich thinking maybe from where he was, he could see what I couldn’t. Then I saw another deer for a split second closer to me but still farther below. One of us is getting one I thought. Maybe today is my day. Then my mind started turning the other way. Oh, shit what if I see a buck. Will I shoot it? Will I have it in me to pull the trigger?
I didn’t have much time to dwell on what if’s because 30 yards in front of me a deer was walking up the ridgeline to the two paths just like my dad said they were doing. I slowly raised the scope and took aim. Shit…a doe, I thought. Then I saw another deer right behind that one. I raised the gun again. Shit…another doe. I slowly lowered the rifle again. Just as I did another deer came up the ridge. Again, I raised to gun and looked down the scope. Not a doe.
The next few seconds seemed like they took forever yet happened so fast at the same time. I clearly remember thinking things very clearly yet incredibly mushed together. Does it have horns? Yes. Are they spikes? No. Is the safety off? Yes. Do you remember where to shoot? Yes. Do you have the crosshairs where you want them? Yes. Are you going to do this? Are you going to pull the…yes!
I fired a shot and the buck took off running. How the hell did I miss, I thought. I stood up and aimed again. The deer was down ledge and going full steam. I aimed and fired a second shot. It didn’t slow at all. All the excitement that had been built up inside me that past few minutes came crashing down. Watching the buck running away I felt demoralized that although I took the shot, I was missed from so close. Thirty yards after the second shot the deer came to a complete stop and just stood still. Watching it stand there I remember thinking, what the hell is he doing? He’s not even looking around. After about ten seconds it toppled over to the ground.
The rush of adrenaline hit hard and shakin akin syndrome set in. My hands started shaking uncontrollably and this overwhelming euphoria came over me. I did it. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to do it, but I did. It could have been any one of us that got lucky that morning, but it happened to be me. I tried texting my dad and Rich to let them know it was me that shot, but it was useless. My hands were shaking too much. After about 15 minutes we all met up and went down to see how I did. It was an 8 pointer. Rich shook my hand and congratulated me and I turned to my dad. He had such a proud look on his face that I will never forget. He shook my hand and pulled me in for a hug. A hug I waited so long for.
That night at camp was the best. I hadn’t come down yet and had been smiling all day. We ate well, drank well and celebrated well. My dad and Rich told stories of past bucks and I finally felt like I belonged. It was then that I truly realized what I had already known. This is what deer camp is about. Sure, it was great getting my first deer, but this is what I will never forget. I wanted my first deer to be special. I was lucky enough to have it be perfect. Everything that led up to it, the planning, me almost screwing it up, the shot, dragging it out with my dad, and everything after was just…perfect. I got to do it with not only my uncle Rich, but more importantly, my dad was right there with me. I know he would have been proud no matter what size buck I shot…but an 8 pointer makes it just a little more special.
Adirondack Camp Journal 