A Younger Me

Twenty-five years ago, I was a younger me. I thought about that as I was getting ready to go take the kids out hunting on Saturday. Saturday was the first day of rifle season for deer hunting in MD. The thermometer was reading 19° and calling for a high of 24°. Everything was white with snow. It was everything that a hunter could dream of. I was giving the kids tips on how to dress to stay warm and digging through my hunting clothes, looking for the perfect combo for each kid. They are all about my size these days and so maybe I shouldn't call them kids, but they really remind me of those days when I was a young hunter. I was always so excited about that first day. I remember how cold my feet used to get. I would stick on two pairs of cotton socks and then slide them into bread bags because my uninsulated rubber boots leaked like a sieve. I remember the burn when my feet started to freeze because of the condensation inside the bags. And I remember the ice in the bread bags when I took them off and the pain when my feet warmed back up at the end of the day. But I wouldn't have missed the first day of rifle season for anything! The first day was when everyone was out there and almost all of the bucks got shot. Or at least that's what I used to think. Hands down, if you wanted to get a buck, you needed to be out there on the first day, and be out there early. I did whatever I could to make sure that I didn't miss that first day, and honestly, I found success doing that. 

I remember the first time that I missed that first morning hunt. It was a good twenty-five years or so ago. I was scheduled to work that weekend and couldn't find anyone that would trade my shift. It was pure torture. I wouldn't be able to hunt until Monday. Up until this point I had never killed a buck in rifle season, except on those first day hunts. I was convinced that at least 98% of all bucks were killed on the first day. All summer l had been watching a nice buck and then hunting him with the bow in the fall, but hadn't been able to get close enough to get the job done, even though I had seen him numerous times. My dad's farm was close to town and his rule was as long as you didn't post your own ground you were welcome to hunt on ours. That pretty much meant our place got hunted hard and by the time rifle season rolled around it seemed there were no deer left. I was sure that the buck I was after would be shot first thing on Saturday. It didn't seem fair. Other people were out there shooting all of the big bucks and I was working.

Monday morning found me feeling down, but I still got up and made a big loop to enter the woods downwind of where I wanted to be. I waited for the sun to rise. I remember that it was really cold! About a half hour after daylight I saw movement and here came some deer. First it was four does. Behind them was the buck. He had his head down and was trotting along about fifty yards away. I took aim and squeezed the trigger. The buck took several jumps and disappeared from my sight. There was a covering of snow on the ground so I followed the tracks for about 100 yards but didn't see any blood. I was sure that I had hit him. I went back to where the deer had been when I shot. I found blood right away. I had been following the wrong tracks! After the two short jumps that it took to get out of sight the buck made a hard right hand turn and went down over the bank. And there he was. It was the nicest buck I had taken at that point. My heart soared!

I learned something that day, about hunting deer and also about life. It's ok to  miss out on things that we think everyone else is doing or getting. We all have our own paths and God blesses us as he chooses. It's much better, and more fulfilling, to look at what we have instead of measuring ourselves against our friends and neighbors and the better things that we think others have and that we're missing out on. When we think about it, often we are blessed with good things when others aren't. I'm convinced that sometimes God allows us to miss out on things just so he can bless us with something even better! I've forgotten this many a time. It usually happens when I get too focused on a specific deer and I don't keep my priorities in line. It's then that I start grumping around, and feeling like life isn't fair.

Since that first year that I missed opening day, I’ve missed numerous other days as well. Days when I was certain that I was missing out but things deemed more important seemed to rule. Some of those times, I probably was really missing out. Other times I've been blessed beyond measure, later down the road.

Saturday morning was a cold one. I took Aiyana and Caleb to different spots and then I went with Blake to another spot. It was windy and cold. Blake and I saw one coyote but that was it. And then we got a text from Caleb that he had shot a buck. The wind and the hills had kept us from hearing the shot even though he was only 600 yards away. When we got there he said he had shot three times, the first time he had knocked it down, the second time he missed it and the third time he brought the hunt to the end. But the deer had run down next to a private property line. When we got down to the deer, we saw two hunters get up and walk away from us. I knew who the owner was so I texted and apologized for ruining their hunt. He wrote back and said no worries and congratulations to your son. After getting the deer out we all headed home and got warmed up and had lunch. After that I took Aiyana to Martins Auto to pick up her car. It had blown a main seal and oil was practically pouring out of it. The people there had been super nice and opened up so that we could pick up the car, even though the owner was wanting to hunt as well. Some of Aiyana’s friends were home from college and she wanted to spend the afternoon hanging with them. Getting the car on Saturday probably wasn't a necessity, but it was really nice to have. Blake had a painting job that he needed to do in the afternoon and Caleb was tagged out. Jenelle was going to go hang out with some of her hunter widow friends. She encouraged me to go and hunt the rest of the afternoon by myself.

So I hiked back into some rough country. The weather was perfect for getting that big buck. I saw a younger buck and seven does, but no big buck showed. As daylight shaded to dark, I couldn't help but notice how I've changed over the years. I don't mind missing that first day quite like I used to. I still love hunting deer and dream of getting that big ole 150” mountainbuck more than ever, but it's ok if I don't. No buck for me today. I started counting my blessings. Hunting with the kids, good neighbors, a generous car repair shop, and to top it off, a very supportive wife! 

Buck or no buck, God is so good!