Caleb’s Spot
Last weekend was muzzleloader season here in Maryland. I was able to get out with Blake on Thursday morning and Caleb on Saturday morning, and then on Saturday evening the weather was so nice that Jenelle brought a book and joined me for the evening sit. I didn't get a deer but Jenelle and I got to watch a flock of turkeys fly up to roost, which is always a fun thing, seeing those clumsy birds hopping and flopping around as they try to find their balance on a branch.
The early muzzleloader season is one that I've learned to enjoy more as time goes on. Don't get me wrong. It's not that I used to not like muzzleloader season. I love hunting with muzzleloaders and shooting them and watching the smoke roll. It's just that I'm more of a loner when it comes to hunting, and muzzleloader season tends to bring out an army of orange clad hunters. Since it's right in the prime of fall and the heart of bow season, and I've always loved slipping into the woods in camo, and trying to be as insignificant as possible while watching the season change from my tree stand, the early October muzzleloader season has felt a bit intrusive to me.
But like I said, I love hunting with muzzleloaders, and the last couple of years the boys have joined me which is what has brought the added enjoyment.
My boys are nowhere near as passionate about getting a deer as I was at their age. It's probably mostly my fault.
The fact is that they’ve each taken a handful of deer while comparatively, when I was Blake's age I was still looking for my first deer and when I was Caleb's age I was still looking for my first buck. It seems like when things are hard to come by, they are more rewarding. Not saying that they have had it easy, but just saying. They both still enjoy getting out with me occasionally. Of course there's this hope that a deer comes along and we can put some fresh steaks in the freezer. But I also think that they just enjoy being out there with me, at least as long as we don't sit for too long, or it's not raining or cold or miserable.
So on Saturday I was hunting with Caleb. He's toting my .54 caliber caplock Hawken. I have the flintlock that my father-in-law built for me. We're sitting with our backs against a big cherry tree. It's one of the prettiest spots in the whole world. The leaves are crunchy and you can hear a deer coming from a mile away. I had let him pick the spot and I kinda figured this is where we'd be. We see something almost every time we come here. There have been a lot of good memories made here. If there's one thing that I think Caleb really enjoys, it's memories, nostalgia, and celebrating an event. And all of those things can be tied into this spot. It's where Caleb shot his first buck. Another time he got a buck and Aiyana got a doe on the same evening. I remember the excitement, the work of getting the deer back to the truck in the dark, our lights getting dim as the batteries died down. The first year he hunted with a muzzleloader he missed a big eight point. Somehow it must have known he only had one shot because it stood there and looked at us while we frantically tried to reload. But it didn't hang around quite that long. Another time a big bear had lumbered up the trail within 10 yds of us before running away. And then there were the numerous sunrises, the turkeys and squirrels and all of the other wildlife that we got to watch while snacking on swiss cake rolls and hot chocolate.
As midmorning slipped towards noon and the temperature rose, I figured our morning hunt was about over. I got out the stove and we heated up some pop tarts and shared a Swiss cake roll.
On the way to our spot earlier in the morning, we had passed a fresh scrape. I casually suggested hunting the scrape to up our odds. Caleb thought about it for a minute and politely said no. He knew where he wanted to go. And even though we didn't get a deer in his little spot, we had a great hunt. Hanging out with Caleb and watching the sun rise and seeing the squirrels and the leaves and just taking in the view and remembering past hunts, made for a really good morning.
I've come to the realization that the kids will probably never be as passionate about hunting as I am. On the other hand, I'm learning to enjoy the camaraderie of hunting with others in a more nonchalant way. I'm sure that I'll always enjoy sitting alone in a tree and being cold and miserable for hours at a time, just looking and waiting for that big buck to arrive. That being said, those special moments spent with my kids in a pretty spot are worth more than even the biggest buck in the whole world.
