Another season has ended and it’s time for a little reflection. As I get older and a bit more sentimental, I feel I just need to put into words my appreciation for how fortunate I am. ..

Many years ago my dream was to build my own Adirondack deer camp. I didn’t want to hunt out of motels when I got older. Or tents, or lean-to’s either! Don’t get me wrong, some of those adventures are priceless, but I knew father time would eventually overtake me and I thought I was aware how important it would be to me to be able to return to the warmth of a woodstove, at my own cabin, from woods where I knew every tree, rock, or stump…. I was wrong. It’s more than that. Because as the years go by, there’s more to those 33 acres than trees, rocks, or stumps. There’s the memories. And more are added every year. A walk out back now is different than it was 10 years ago. I can be standing in the exact same spot, looking at the exact same view, yet it’s different. There’s more…

That large rock there. Originally that’s all it was. Then it became a place to pause, because I once spied a deer pawing through the beech leaves just left of it. A few years later, it was also a place that held more importance, because just behind it,… by that hump there, is where I was standing on that cold day when Rich’s buck skidded to its final stop after I saw it flying through the woods so many Novembers ago. That large hemlock doesn’t look much different from the many others on the far side of the swamp… but it is. It was there I coaxed in my first buck on this property almost 30 years ago. “The Boneyard”, how many deer have I heard blow and exit in the dark here? I’ve taken lots of watches here and seen very few deer. But hunt ANYWHERE else and they will be here on my return! Blowing and with that taunting, “WHEW!”,…. “Whew!”,….. “whew!”,……… “whew.”……. until finally I hear, “whew”, so far away I know it was done on purpose just to make me laugh.

Thirty years ago I was stronger, possibly ambitious to a fault, and definitely less patient. Every ridge had to be explored, stream needed crossing, or swamp explored. If I didn’t see anything the first day, I might not return to that location for quite some time… How many great areas had I passed over simply because I had the bad luck not to encounter a deer or two on that first walk. I don’t want to even think about it..

My son, Aaron has shown an interest in hunting these past several years. It’s with a lot of pride that I enjoy watching and hearing him as he is experiencing his growing pains as he learns his way around “The Big Woods”. I was brought up old school, inspired by stories of outdoorsmen who hunted! Larry and Lanny Benoit, Jim Massett, Hal Blood, R.G. and Pop Bernier, men who trekked miles in the remote woods of northern Maine or the Adirondacks. These guys weren’t afraid of hard work, they embraced it! I know I am not in the same league as these legends, but I’m not afraid to play on the same field. One thing that all of them claimed was that real work produced results that spanned the full spectrum of emotions. A blown opportunity after walking miles up and down in the mountains, perhaps for days really hurts! I know! But as I try to explain to Aaron, after you’ve experienced some of those, which almost certainly would come first, you have absolutely no idea how sweet it feels when you finally, (and you will) pull it off. I offer, and with no disrespect, it just isn’t possible to experience that level of disappointment when you know another buck may wander past your watch in an hour maybe or tomorrow, quite likely as you head to your stand behind the crop field or near your bait station. Also, the satisfaction of success is so much more gratifying as you realize what you’ve just accomplished!

He’s buying in. This year I suggested he take a good hike and maybe go “to the top” behind Pop’s camp, The 3 Shoes. “Take your time, observe,… explore,… learn”. When you are heading back down, send me a message and I’ll try to get in front of you, maybe make something happen… After being gone for 3-4 hours, in unfamiliar woods, Aaron made his way to within maybe 30 yards of me! And we came this close to an epic story! —> <— !! But that’s for another post at another time. On another occasion behind my camp this year we both headed out with the intention of still hunting, (stop, move, stop) for several hours. Just enough movement to cover some ground, but enough stops factored in so if one of us moved a deer it may get bumped to the other. After a couple hours on fresh snow, I had been working into the wind hoping to find the source of those tracks. I was thinking as I neared a crest in the terrain that it would be awesome if I jumped a bedded deer here, and that Aaron might be in front of me now! Well, I didn’t jump a bedded deer. But as I came over the crest, you have no idea how satisfying it was to see Aaron standing motionless up ahead watching in my direction! With no communication whatsoever, he’d anticipated my movements and positioned himself in front of me. I remember thinking to myself before I approached him, “Man, we work well together!”….

My other son, Gary doesn’t hunt. But he always makes his way to camp to see the old man. And thanks to Aaron’s buck from last year, we had venison stew! Now I’m not talking about just throwing meat, potatoes, and carrots in a pot stew… No years ago Gary had attended culinary school. I’m talking a roll back your eyes and savor experience not found in any cabin I’ve ever been to. Gary likes to bust my chops and he’s pretty good at it. We used to go fishing…. A Lot!, we’ve had some good times in the boat, on the ice, and along a stream. I miss those times. Now I get to see him 3 or 4 times a year. We spend some time on the golf course and I usually stay at his house when I’m up visiting. We both like the Packers and football. His daughter, Rori is growing like a weed and she is absolutely a Daddy’s girl! Gary comes to camp to chill, maybe move some deer for the old guys, and team up with his brothers to tell me things that they’d done growing up that I was never aware of. I shake my head sometimes and wonder how I was so blind!!!

And then there’s my oldest son, John. He’s ALWAYS shows up in a good mood! Of course this time he walked in with the biggest bottle of Jack Daniels that they make. John also doesn’t hunt yet. But he stated, for the third year, that he would be getting his license and next year he’d be in the woods…. John comes to camp to relax, have a drink or two, and keep me current with how his two boys Jensen and Paxton are doing. He enjoys going in the woods and taking a watch with his old man and I recall vividly the time I took him for a hike to Rich’s Knob on a frigid day and we had a doe walk right to us. She was casually nibbling branches from some young maples just 25 yards from John as he sipped a cold beer with bare hands while I was hunkered down and shivering trying to keep a bitter north wind from turning me into a “Pop”cicle!

Good times at camp. Since my Pop and Uncle Don are no longer making it up. I’ve taken it upon myself to try to carry the responsibility as the camp’s “Grumpy Old Man”. Rich isn’t quite there yet, but Adirondack Deer Camps require older, experienced hunters to provide guidance to ensure the tradition continues without compromise to modern intrusions! I think my boys are on the right track. I’m one proud Pop!

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