The official record of our family deer hunts is recorded in The Book of Deer. This year my grandson rather artistically summarized my hunt...
That's me in a tree stand. A large bird is pooping on my head. I'm aiming my rifle in the wrong direction and a gigantic deer is making rude noises at me from both ends.
It's not a bad summary. My only quibble would be that it looks like I'm wearing a black mini skirt and that would be pretty chilly. If a deer came along that was at my eye level in a tree stand I absolutely would freeze and take whatever abuse it chose to deal out. That thing is 25 feet tall and although I appear to be wielding a small cannon I doubt it would do more than make this Eldritch Beast hoppin' mad.
Four days of hunting. Did not get a deer. I saw some. Even had a couple in my sights but decided that the shots were either too long or at too weird an angle to be Sportsmanlike.
Both boys got deer, for one of them it was his second. So I have venison.
There is still the tail end of the nine day season and probably a second chance season in December, but with the kids, grandkids and dogs all departed deer camp is a quiet place. Time to head back to civilization.
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