Today I drove in to 43 camp. Actually I drove in to the parking lot above the river, then walked to camp along the old road, just like we always do now. I stopped inside, and while making my journal entry, read the journal entries for the past few weeks.
I tell you, that Charlie is something else; I leave a copy of that old book, Hunting in the Northern Wilds, at camp, and before you know it, Charlie is ruminating romantic. Whodathunk it? Certainly not me, but I'm glad.
The part that really got me, however, was the passage regarding cooking the tenderloins, where Charlie records his sentiments of paying respect to the deer by taking special care in preparing the meat, as well as hanging his horns in camp, where we will tell his story over and over for years to come. I know that while most city folks won't understand that kind of thing, when I read those words, I knew that I'm in with the right guys. And gals!
I need to get the old journal, and start transcribing it. Somewhere in there is a good history that needs to be told, particularly since I can remember almost back to the beginning of camp, and also can remember many of the things told to me by my father. Plus, I can get some good payback to that no-good bunch that's down in there below us, the 32 Club. (That's the guy that threatened to shoot me and I have yet to give all the details on this, but since it's a great hunting story, I will.)
Anyway, today I walked up to the 'condos' up on Laraby Mtn. As soon as I got past the beaver dam back of camp and started the trail over Drew Mtn--which they call Porcupine knob now on account of some porcupine that they saw back in the day--I saw tracks coming from the swamp, and headed up Porcupine. There were a few other deer trails, but when I got over between Condo #1 and Condo #2, there were lots of tracks in there. In fact, after I realized that I had probably pushed all of the deer out of there and started walked back, I saw a single track running, which suggests to my mind that those deer were probably close to me as I came huffing and puffing over the hill, and most likely scared them off. But there was another very big track going over towards those deer, maybe a buck. So who knows, maybe there was some hanky panky going on that made them move away.
They all went down towards the lake, big surprise!
I noticed how close those two watches are to each other; in fact, I think that they're perhaps too close. If people aren't careful, two hunters could wind up shooting at each other.
I tell you, that Charlie is something else; I leave a copy of that old book, Hunting in the Northern Wilds, at camp, and before you know it, Charlie is ruminating romantic. Whodathunk it? Certainly not me, but I'm glad.
The part that really got me, however, was the passage regarding cooking the tenderloins, where Charlie records his sentiments of paying respect to the deer by taking special care in preparing the meat, as well as hanging his horns in camp, where we will tell his story over and over for years to come. I know that while most city folks won't understand that kind of thing, when I read those words, I knew that I'm in with the right guys. And gals!
I need to get the old journal, and start transcribing it. Somewhere in there is a good history that needs to be told, particularly since I can remember almost back to the beginning of camp, and also can remember many of the things told to me by my father. Plus, I can get some good payback to that no-good bunch that's down in there below us, the 32 Club. (That's the guy that threatened to shoot me and I have yet to give all the details on this, but since it's a great hunting story, I will.)
Anyway, today I walked up to the 'condos' up on Laraby Mtn. As soon as I got past the beaver dam back of camp and started the trail over Drew Mtn--which they call Porcupine knob now on account of some porcupine that they saw back in the day--I saw tracks coming from the swamp, and headed up Porcupine. There were a few other deer trails, but when I got over between Condo #1 and Condo #2, there were lots of tracks in there. In fact, after I realized that I had probably pushed all of the deer out of there and started walked back, I saw a single track running, which suggests to my mind that those deer were probably close to me as I came huffing and puffing over the hill, and most likely scared them off. But there was another very big track going over towards those deer, maybe a buck. So who knows, maybe there was some hanky panky going on that made them move away.
They all went down towards the lake, big surprise!
I noticed how close those two watches are to each other; in fact, I think that they're perhaps too close. If people aren't careful, two hunters could wind up shooting at each other.
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