11-04-12
Today was the first day in eleven years I had the privilege to hunt with my youngest son. I did my best as a dad and introduced him to hunting at the age of eleven. By the time he was fifteen he had shot three deer.
Then sweet sixteen rolled around and life got in the way. I encouraged him for years to take his hunter safety so he could get his license and become a member of the clan. It was only after college was complete, leaving the nest and getting a full time job in his career that he again expressed interest in the hunt.
Shawn completed his hunter safety this fall. To sweeten the pot I told him if he passed the course and got his license I would help him financially to acquire the gear that was necessarily needed to ward off the New England cold and equip him with the firearm needed to get the job done. Forward fast to today. The first time in so long I got to share my passion with my son. We would spend the day deer hunting in NH's early muzzle loading season.
Together we hit the deer woods at first light. I put him in my best stands that have been so successful for our crew over the years. Not a deer was spotted.
Late morning we met up with a couple of our deer hunting clan. Four men is better than two. The very next push he had two does just about run him over but the frontal position offered no shots. I felt like it was a success because he got to at least see a deer.
After lunch at home we were off to a piece of woods for the evening stand. I had acquired permission to hunt this tract the previous fall. It is one of the best pinch points I know of. A 21 pound gobbler fell to my Encore there last spring. Late this summer I stopped in at the widows house and offered her a feed of lobsters, clams and oysters in thanks of her generosity. I wanted to return the favor for her letting me hunt. She said it wasn't necessary but I told her it was a trade off. She took care of me by offering her land and I reciprocated with a New England feed.
In early October my brother in law and I erected a ladder stand in the pinch point. This afternoon was our first chance for a sit. Shawn would christen the stand while I went a couple hundred yards west of him to watch a cat nine tail swamp the landowner told me she had been seeing deer come out of.
My boy has heart. The wind blew fierce tonight. I hid behind a banking watching the cattails and out of the wind. I radioed him at four PM to let him know we had one hour left and it was prime time. I was trying to lift his spirit. I knew seventeen feet up in the air he must be cold.
Around four fifteen I'd had enough and lit a cigar. The wind was blowing from me into the cattail swamp. All of a sudden I saw a white flag above the cattails. I radioed Shawn and told him I just saw a deer. In about ten more minutes the deer stood up and started walking towards me. I could clearly see white tines on his head. Even though I had a tree to steady my aim............I missed. The deer took off in Shawn's direction. I told him it was headed for him and immediately got on his trail.
Knowing this piece of woods I radioed Shawn when I closed to within fifty yards to let him know I was coming and don't shoot me. I was answered by the blast from Shawn's direction by a TC 50 caliber Hawkins.
Shawn told me he heard a noise coming from behind him and thought it was me. Instead here came the buck sneaking through right under his stand. The sound of the hammer being cocked never fazed the deer. After the shot I radioed him and asked if he got the deer. He replied the deer was down and kibbying. I told him to reload. He answered and said, "Dad I don't think that is necessary. The buck is down."
It was then and there I started doing a celebration dance. When I got to his stand it was easy to see the dead buck he had piled up. The word happiness doesn't come close to the pride I felt in my son.
In a fading light I got one blurry picture on my cell phone.
An eight point buck that would later weigh in at 168 pounds dressed. It was a father and son moment.
Teach them young............they will remember.
