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October 23, 2003
Deer hunting can bring pleasures
Charlie Farmer, Springfield News-Leader
Stories by the campfire, country cooking and the hunt are all part of the package.
To know what deer hunting is all about, you need to deer hunt.
It is impossible to speak on the subject accurately, although some often try, unless you have been there as a participant.
Deer hunting is like a pot of good chili on a cold day. The ingredients that's create this tradition are varied and plentiful.
Some are well known, others are secrets, everybody has his or her own personal reasons, but you can believe there is more to the sport than killing a deer, much more.
One of the best deer hunts was with my son, Scott. It was his first November deer hunt with his new rifle. An invitation from our friend Dale Stringer to hunt a piece of private land east of Urbana came as welcome news.
Most of my deer hunting was in Piney Creek Forest near Table Rock Lake.
Scott was always with me. But on this hunt, Dale's brother Tom invited us to hunt on his 200 acres.
Tom and Dale worked together to enhance wildlife habitat on the property and their efforts paid of with whitetails and wild turkeys.
Dale, and Tom's son, Scott, were ready when we arrived.
The roaring fire they had built added a cheery glow to the cozy setting tucked back in the oak and hickory trees.
A tent camper, with furnace, stove and enough beds to sleep five, provided a comfortable wilderness retreat.
There is something special about eating in a small, country cafe during the deer season. The waitress asks if we have our bucks yet. We don't yet, we tell her.
Dale had built and hung several tree stands for us to use. Clouds began moving in Friday evening, but the outside temperature was ideal for sitting around the campfire talking deer hunting and wondering where the big bucks would be in the morning.
More wood is added to the fire and the roaring flames spark memories of past hunts. We would go on all night long remembering and planning for the morning. But at 11 p.m., we slide into sleeping bags and set the alarm clock for 5:15 a.m..
In the darkness of predawn, the five of us split up and head for strategically placed tree stands that bordered well-used trails, scrapes and bedding areas. We would not meet again back at camp until noon. The good view from the stand showed near-perfect whitetail cover.
When it was light enough to see, I fully expected a string of does, followed by a gigantic buck, to materialize within 50 yards of my tree. I waited silently.
I did this for five hours without seeing a deer. But I didn't feel cheated. Like most deer hunters, I felt lucky to be out, looking, listening and hoping.
Alone with my thoughts, content to be a predator perched in a tree. I was at peace with myself and nature — a far cry from the bustle of everyday living.
I vowed never to abandon the spirit and endurance of a deer hunter. Scott saw two does while up in his tree.
He told me he almost shot one of the does. But he left them instead, in hopes of seeing a buck. The final two days produced no deer for our camp.
Saturday night we ate at the Coffee Cup Restaurant and Dance Hall in Urbana. A country band was playing and all the local folks were having a good time.
Our waitress that night, a remarkably efficient and conversational young lady, showed us the Polaroid prints of the 12-point buck she shot opening morning!
There's no place like the country during deer season. November is just around the bend.
Contact free-lance columnist Charlie Farmer at 1197 East Court, Ozark, MO 65721 or cjoutdoors318365@aol.com
Deer hunting can bring pleasures
Charlie Farmer, Springfield News-Leader
Stories by the campfire, country cooking and the hunt are all part of the package.
To know what deer hunting is all about, you need to deer hunt.
It is impossible to speak on the subject accurately, although some often try, unless you have been there as a participant.
Deer hunting is like a pot of good chili on a cold day. The ingredients that's create this tradition are varied and plentiful.
Some are well known, others are secrets, everybody has his or her own personal reasons, but you can believe there is more to the sport than killing a deer, much more.
One of the best deer hunts was with my son, Scott. It was his first November deer hunt with his new rifle. An invitation from our friend Dale Stringer to hunt a piece of private land east of Urbana came as welcome news.
Most of my deer hunting was in Piney Creek Forest near Table Rock Lake.
Scott was always with me. But on this hunt, Dale's brother Tom invited us to hunt on his 200 acres.
Tom and Dale worked together to enhance wildlife habitat on the property and their efforts paid of with whitetails and wild turkeys.
Dale, and Tom's son, Scott, were ready when we arrived.
The roaring fire they had built added a cheery glow to the cozy setting tucked back in the oak and hickory trees.
A tent camper, with furnace, stove and enough beds to sleep five, provided a comfortable wilderness retreat.
There is something special about eating in a small, country cafe during the deer season. The waitress asks if we have our bucks yet. We don't yet, we tell her.
Dale had built and hung several tree stands for us to use. Clouds began moving in Friday evening, but the outside temperature was ideal for sitting around the campfire talking deer hunting and wondering where the big bucks would be in the morning.
More wood is added to the fire and the roaring flames spark memories of past hunts. We would go on all night long remembering and planning for the morning. But at 11 p.m., we slide into sleeping bags and set the alarm clock for 5:15 a.m..
In the darkness of predawn, the five of us split up and head for strategically placed tree stands that bordered well-used trails, scrapes and bedding areas. We would not meet again back at camp until noon. The good view from the stand showed near-perfect whitetail cover.
When it was light enough to see, I fully expected a string of does, followed by a gigantic buck, to materialize within 50 yards of my tree. I waited silently.
I did this for five hours without seeing a deer. But I didn't feel cheated. Like most deer hunters, I felt lucky to be out, looking, listening and hoping.
Alone with my thoughts, content to be a predator perched in a tree. I was at peace with myself and nature — a far cry from the bustle of everyday living.
I vowed never to abandon the spirit and endurance of a deer hunter. Scott saw two does while up in his tree.
He told me he almost shot one of the does. But he left them instead, in hopes of seeing a buck. The final two days produced no deer for our camp.
Saturday night we ate at the Coffee Cup Restaurant and Dance Hall in Urbana. A country band was playing and all the local folks were having a good time.
Our waitress that night, a remarkably efficient and conversational young lady, showed us the Polaroid prints of the 12-point buck she shot opening morning!
There's no place like the country during deer season. November is just around the bend.
Contact free-lance columnist Charlie Farmer at 1197 East Court, Ozark, MO 65721 or cjoutdoors318365@aol.com
