perfect deer camp
We are staying in an empty farmhouse, clean and warm and occupied only by the skeletons of a couple of ladybeetles. We’re sleeping in sleeping bags and cooking on a hotplate. We have all the comforts of home including a hot shower. Field is three miles away and it is filled with yummy corn. I don’t know how I got this lucky, but I aint bitching.
In the long ago, about 1963 or 64, a hunting buddy and I were caught in a blizzard on the East side of Lake Chelan way high up, prolly 7500 feet. We were in deep doo-doo until we stumbled onto an abandoned farmstead. The “house”, actually a two room shed, still had most of it’s windows and the door was closeable. It took both our ponchos to make the roof weathertight on one end of the building. There was an old woodburning cookstove still connected to the chimney that we used with firewood gathered during lulls in the storm. The first day we spent plugging holes in the walls as best we could and fixing up leaky windows with bits of boards and cardboard. We were stuck there for four days before we could work our way down to the pickup and back to civilization. I’ve wanted to move back up there ever since. Unfortunately, the folks who own the property don’t see it my way. They’re nice folks, though.
That experience is why there’s a deck of cards and a candle lantern in my hunting pouch. Dang near went nuts staring at each other for four days.
So, how are you cooking the corn?
Gerry N.
Rough life, eh?
Corn mostly yummy to the deer.
I bagged a ten pointer earlier this year. I placed the stand last year in what I knew was a Good Spot and I refused to get near that stand until I hunted it. I also refused to hunt that stand until the wind direction was PERFECT for that location.
Success is so, so sweet.
And so, so rare.
We must be lucky. You want a deer, you go get one. It’s like going to the grocery store. You want a real nice buck, you work at it and you will get a decent one. A rally, really nice buck, well, then you really, really have to work at it and there is no guarantees.
Neighbor shot one that scored over 160. Will be a B&C anyway. Had his pick of 20 bucks.
Boys got two real nice, heavy antlered one off us. 17 inches wide inside and probably 12 inches tall. Looks like father and son.
Me, I shoot does. Better meat. Horns are for pussies unless they are worth the pennies to get them full mounted. If they ain’t worth that, they ain’t worth shooting. And you can’t eat them.
I eat the bucks just fine. In Indiana, rifle season is for bucks. You can get bonus does, and i hope to get one of them later.
Ahh, I see. Good luck on the doe.