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Deer hunting The Mountains My Way

Posted by on November 27, 2012

Deer Hunting Maryland Mountains

 

Several times before parting for the Appalachian Mountains in Garrett County, Maryland, I explained myself this way, “I know I have a better chance to kill a deer, hunting here on the local farm, but I enjoy hunting the mountains more.”

Deer hunting is so much more than just killing a deer.  I know it sounds silly but it is true.  Don’t get me wrong, the venison in my freezer is a staple in my diet, and sometimes I head out with the intent to killing some food.  But opening day of firearms season only comes once a year.  For only two weeks a year, I can slowly meander the mountain forests caring a rifle in search of whitetail. And with the new job, opening weekend is all I had.

The Tacoma was loaded early Friday morning with the camping and hunting gear.  Rain fell when I arrived in Oakland, MD.  The weather man called for the rain to turn to snow on Saturday.  At my “not so young” age, and enough jingle in my pocket, I choose to “hotel it” instead of pitching the one-man backpack cocoon type tent.  Yea, I know, I’m turning into a wimp, but since when does an adventure mean it has to be miserable?

Friday afternoon, I checked the scope of the .270 and shot a few rounds at our make shift rifle range on the club property.  Then I drove the muddy clay trail toward my proposed hunting spot for the morning to investigate.  Over the summer the loggers had been busy changing the landscape.

At the club property’s size of 3,300 acres, I’ve got plenty of room to roam.  The reason I’m here.  Learning about oneself and what I like and dislike has been a huge part of my growth over the last year.  I enjoy deer hunting and often fall asleep dreaming of monster bucks in my sights.  But I get bored sitting in a tree stand, waiting for the deer to come to me.  I prefer hunting from the ground.  Sometimes I do sit and wait on the ground, others times I slowly walk the woods.

I realize my chances of shooting a dream buck are greatly lessened by hunting this way, but so be it.  I enjoy this approach and I like doing what I like.  So often we are told how we are supposed to things that we forget the fun factor.  Hunters, deer hunters especially get so hung up on killing large bucks that they forget the pursuit is supposed to be fun.  For many years, I sat in a tree stand bored, watching my watch, waiting for the time I could get down.  I would not get down before my hunting partners for being afraid they would think less of me as a deer hunter.  Not any more, I hunt the way and when I feel like it; to have fun and enjoy the woods, not to prove my worthiness as a deer hunter.

Stepping down from my soap box now…

 

Opening morning came.  By the day’s end, I estimated 12 other hunters I shared the 3,300 acres.  Nice odds for the hunter.  But as luck would have it, the hillside I planned to hangout the opening morning was occupied by another hunter sitting high in his tree.  I gave a slight wave in his direction, and in the fading darkness of the early morning, headed to another area.

The morning was spent slowly walking and standing, peering down a steep slope and creek.  The old logging trail I followed circled around a mountain top.  I never once looked at my watch, or cared what time it was.  I was lost in my actions.  Softly I placed my footfalls on the frozen snow patches, looking for the new soft snow to land my steps.  My eyes peered deep ahead and down looking for my buck.

I am not a big fan of carrying a cell phone while hunting.  I hunt to get away from the daily grind.  But as age and wisdom begins to creep up, I realize I am wandering in the woods solo 150 miles from home.  So I carry it in my pocket for that “just in case”.

My shirt pocket vibrates.  I have a text message from a friend back home.  She wishes me luck and mentions her morning prayer.  Insert 2×4 hitting me on head.  Since my return from Alaska, I have been avoiding God.  My attendance at church has been sparse.  My prayer time even more sparse.  Time to stop and face where I was; face God and have a chat.

Snowflakes gently fell from the sky.  Gray clouds covered the sun. I sat, leaned against an old oak tree, sat my .270 on the ground and began to pray, aloud.

In the place I feel most at home, doing one of my favorite activities, I was able to finally face the man in the mirror.  I talked to God, opening my soul to myself in the process.  I even prayed to cross paths with a large buck on the hunt.  More importantly I prayed for forgiveness of my past, blessing for the present day, and guidance into the future.  A weight left my shoulders. I stood grabbed my rifle and continued the hunt.

The day passed with continued snow fall, a few deer sightings but no bucks.  Darkness fell as I sat waiting, under a hemlock covered in an inch of snow.

The hot shower felt good back at the hotel.  I was happy to have the warm room to return. I wrote in my journal, ate some hot wings for dinner and prepared my gear for the next day.

Interesting enough, when Sunday awoke, I choose to return to the same place I ended the day before.  Only this time I was going to use my portable tree stand.  It was what I felt like doing that morning.  I’m learning to listen to myself and my thoughts and following them.  I was hunting out of my tree stand because I wanted to, not because I felt I had to.  A simple thing, I know, but much of my life has been spent doing things because I felt it was what I was supposed to do and not what I wanted to do.  So in a small way the choice to use the tree stand mirrors my outlook on future decisions.

The morning sun rose.  The air cold.  I sat motionless for several hours.  Not one deer walked past.  Deer tracks from overnight walked under my tree.  When I had enough, I climbed down, packed the truck and drove homeward.  After a stop at my mother’s house to watch a few football games, I arrived home with a muddy truck and no deer to show for my efforts.  But the three days spent in the mountains of Western Maryland were successful on a much larger scale.