The view out one side of the deer blind.

November 15, 2012 – Thursday

Opening Day of Deer Season

39 degrees at 5 PM

Pentoga Road

Deer – 1/ Tom – 0

I’m tired tonight. It must be from all the hard deer hunting today; going forth as the meat gatherer in the household.

Wednesday was a busy day filled with the usual activities. I did take time to fire my rifle a few times and was delighted to find the scope fairly well sighted. Of course, I was only twenty feet away from the cardboard target. As I told Sargie last night, I killed a mighty piece of cardboard!

Wood chips were put on the floor of the deer blind. They work great and keep my feet warm. I'm glad I attached the chicken wire underneath to keep the rodents and skunks out.

Sargie arrived home early on Wednesday with a pizza. It was so thick we could only eat half of it. She's working late tonight. Guess what's for supper?

I was thinking early this morning, when the house was dark and quiet, how the opening day of deer season has changed in my life. Years ago, the night before was reason to celebrate, play some cards, drink gallons of beer, and get obnoxious and stupid. It was a ritual and I was damn good at both.

My campmates and I were wife-free. It was just the guys. We could do anything we wanted and made it a steadfast and firm rule that what went on at the camp stayed there. We were educators in real life, but the night before opening day, we acted more like ten-year-olds... well, that might be an exaggeration. We acted like five-year-olds.

I remember that most opening days began with a hangover accompanied by a huge breakfast. I also recall losing it all while pretending to hunt deer. Yep, we were manly men back then, out to put meat on the table.

As the years went by, I suspected I had a drinking problem. I was wrong. I had a stopping problem. I drank just fine. With my wife and sons’ support, I learned how to live without having to drink. Unfortunately, that made me an outcast at the old deer camp. The nights of acting like a five-year-old were over and best of all, the mornings of having hangovers were finished.

I moved to Alaska where I shot more caribou than I can recall with a giant moose included each year. Rather than drink, I celebrated each kill the way I was taught by Brother Elmer, as many Inupiaq Eskimos do, by removing the animal’s head and facing it towards the sun so its spirit may escape to live another day. Water was dribbled into the animal’s mouth as a token of appreciation for giving its life.

Gone also are the days of sitting out in the cold or stalking the mighty deer by sneaking around in the woods. I went to the deer blind this morning with a thermos of coffee, the rifle, and my smart phone so I might listen to the morning news and as I waited for sunup and a deer to walk by.

Shhhh, there's a deer in these woods

That didn’t happen. Two ran past. They’d been targeted by the neighbor across the road and were running for their lives. I can’t tell you what sex they were or even how big. They were a duo of brown blur.

I ran out of coffee around 8 AM and wanted to come back to the house to see Sargie before she left for work. We talked briefly and after she departed, I walked my five miles. It was a gorgeous day.

What a parade of cars and trucks there was going up and down our rural road. On a good day, we might see half a dozen vehicles, but today, most drivers wore orange and I’m assuming they were looking for deer. There’s a lot of public land in the vicinity.

This salamander was SLOWLY crossing the road today. I wanted to clean him up, bring him home, and name him Jimmy, but somehow I didn't think Sargie would be so enamored. 

Arriving home, I put on my professor cap and worked on this semester’s course for over an hour. The first of many final projects are beginning to filter in and I’m hoping to keep on top of it all. So far, so good.

This afternoon was spent cutting and chipping popples. I chipped a Man Truck load and shoveled the mulch into the orchard. After, I donned my hunter orange and went back to the deer blind to sit until dark.

I had a problem hunting this afternoon… that of keeping awake. I’m assuming no deer came by, but in reality, I wouldn’t have known. With the heater humming, keeping the blind warm and cozy, I made the mistake of lying my head back and closing my eyes. I woke up in time to walk back to the house without having to use a light.

Friday should be a repeat of today. I have licenses for both a buck and a doe. I’d like to fill each, but if not, well, the truth be known, I’ll be happy either way.

And the best part? I won’t have a hangover in the morning.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…