I saw too often where an orange hat rested his thirty ‘ought six on the hood of a rig, peering down a high-powered scope to drop a deer a mile away. That ain’t hunting. It’s not supposed to be that easy.
Someone once said that happiness is in the journey, not the destination. In this case, the journey is the hunt. The destination is the dead deer at your feet.
Besides, there are just too darn many rifle hunters out there.... Read More
Those years after my first buck at age 11 were a straight turn-around from the years before. I got excellent grades, played sports, got a job and worked hard. I dressed conservatively for a kid and didn’t get into trouble. I kept on the straight and narrow. Never smoked or did a drug. Each year I’d go out and Hunt deer. Each year I got a little better at it.
I hated it. As a young kid following my Dad around in the woods. I was cold. I had to be quiet. We drove forever on old logging roads at the wee hours of the morning. We never got anything. I wasn’t even sure deer actually existed. The experience was almost lost to me as a kid. Had there been Playstations and such back then, life today would be much different.&nbs... Read More
