OPENING DAYS PAST AND PRESENT

 Opening day of deer season used to be like Xmas morning. This was years before I picked up the bow and tried to kill a buck with an arrow. Now it marks the failed end of my quest to arrow the ten point.  Although some states allow twelve-year-olds to hunt, in NYS one has to be at least 16 years old to hunt deer. My first opening day I accompanied my father and Vic Voegelin to Beaver Brook Rod and Gun Club near Narrowsburg in Sullivan County to hunt. They dropped me off at an old, rickety, hillbilly tree stand and continued into the woods. A sixteen year old does not have much patience. I remember being cold, fidgeting, fighting boredom and basically wanting to go home and make out with my girl friend. Just before dark I heard footsteps in the leaves. My father had drilled into me NOT to turn around. "Let the deer walk past you." he insisted. When I heard the approaching footsteps I froze, finger caressing the safety all my senses on high alert. Then, what sounded like a machine gun exploded at the base of the tree. I turned and saw Vic and the old man bent over in uncontrollable laughter as I nearly shit myself.  They'd set off a string of firecrackers. Yeah, funny. That was my first opening day more than fifty years ago. Hours in stand: too many. Deer seen: 0.

     I returned from SF in 1983 and after a brief stint of "hypothetically hunting," and taking pot shots at low flying geese, I eventually took the task of killing a deer seriously. By the mid-nineties I'd moved back to the sticks and religiously joined my father and brother Bird hunting opening day and the rest of the family at the traditional opening evening gathering. Except for last year's Covid lockdown cancellation this tradition has survived all these years. Last night both Bird and I choked up over the phone wishing our father and mother were still alive to enjoy this year's deer season festivities.

TODAY 

5:45 am: Climb in stand. 

4:45 pm: Climb out of stand 

Deer seen: 0

  Shewho and I drove to Montgomery to Bird and Ginger's house. The gathering now is mostly my non-hunting nieces one nephew, their friends and a whole bunch of kids. Bird and Ginger still put on a nice spread and we all drink and eat our fill. This year my nephew Waders had all the action. He shot a nice seven point after passing up on multiple bucks that were pointed out as "off limits" on Bird's trail cam. His mother, my sister (yes I have a sister) Mrs. Budinski also showed up. We're like the Kennedys. It's not that we're ashamed of our sister, it's just that she doesn't hunt, holds advanced degrees and is prettier than all the men, so we keep her existence a secret. That makes us feel superior. It was great seeing her. Multiple people exclaimed You have a sister? I swear she prompts them before hand. This morning I'm sleeping in. I need a break. Hopefully Clocker survived opening day.

I dedicate this blog to my one and only sister who I love dearly and now admit to her existence in public. Please tell everyone!