Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Life thoughts and direction

Memories rush to my thoughts of the places I've been and the roles I have played at different times in my life. I briefly reflect on the people and friendships that have come and gone throughout my life. A moments wonder to the reason and answers to some questions on the journey of life which may remain unattainable mysteries.  While other thoughts of who I am, where I came from, my beliefs, values and life experiences are locked in an impenetrable fortress of surety. On all my reflections and thoughts the one answer remains that life is about change. How we dealt, adapt and agree with it affect the outcome and our happiness. Enjoy what you have in the moment in the future and in the past. God has blessed us with it all. Change may be good or could be bad but you can always count on the fact that it will happen.

37 degrees and hunting

Numbness wraps around my fingers. A icy chill runs the length of my spine as if someone was slowly running an ice cube down the center of my back. A warm tingling sensation is felt at the top of my boots near the top laces where the boots tightly grasp my ankles. Steam distributes from my breath and the moisture fogs my glasses briefly. Cold Steel finds the soles of my boots and gradually creeps up my legs to my knees. The warmth of the sun finds my face with anticipation as I await the joy of the Suns arrival. I wouldn't trade these feelings for a morning in a warm bed to miss a great sunrise in the woods!



Lost in the addiction

Comfortable clothes decorated in the images of the surrounding landscape. Slow breezes filling my ears with rushing as the sounds of millions of leaves flip and tap lightly against one and other. Sweet aromas of bitter acorns, damp leaves red clay, pine and cedar fill my nose with an array of fresh and ever changing smells. Vibrant colors capture my eyes with blazing reds, brilliant greens, varying shades of yellows, grays, oranges and browns.A sense of peacefulness and belonging settles in my mind. Busy and unpleasant thoughts escape from my mind as clear and relaxed thinking takes over. Studying of landscape intensifies and movement slows to nothing. Eyes lock in on out of the ordinary movement while seeking particular colors.Ears seek sounds of movement and changes in birds and squirrels tones and responses. It's bow season and I'm lost in the addiction

Written by vaoutdoorsman aka Hampton Brewer








Friday, February 17, 2012

Hunting - What is this obsession all about?

The entire aspect of a day’s hunt touches every one of your senses. The fresh smell of damp leaves as your boot presses the edge of a creek bank when you cross a mirrored image of rolling water, the feeling of a slow breeze on a warm day drifting down the back of your collar or the sight of heavy steam flowing in front of you as your breath escapes into a cold winter morning. The feeling of anticipation at first light as the sun slowly creeps just above the tree tops while you wait for the sun’s warmth to reach you as you sit in the cold. The hunt itself is made up of more than just a simple harvest but essentially all the surrounding events that lead to the end result.

I believe that it is the obsession of the harvest that ultimately drives every hunter. The idea of harvesting game, the opportunity of the shot and the excitement of the moment. Hunters dream, talk, plan and tell the stories of their hunts. I have days when my obsession to harvest game drives me to study the woods in extreme detail and spend time in heavy thought of how game is moving through the woods. Questions often haunt me as I try to determine what they are eating, where are they going and how can I be in the right place at the right time. Once I start thinking on those terms I usually always harvest game. There are other occasions where I become so relaxed in the enjoyment of the woods that I spend all my time just admiring the amazing scenery and the changes in the outdoors. This state is often found when I already have a freezer full of game.

Hunting can often test you patience and bring on frustration at all levels. I remember many days in the early part of the season trying to remain totally still while the sound of one or two small mosquitoes filled my ears with total aggravation. The hardest part is remaining patient and trying not to move while the attacking insects attempt to expose your presence. Another great feeling of frustration happens when spending a long time walking quietly only to accidentally snap a twig which sends something bolting through the woods far away from you. Most likely the most difficult frustration of all can be taking a shot at your desired prey only to just barely miss the animal as your watch helplessly while it continues out of sight.

All the frustrations and difficulties eventually bring on the amazing moment when your hard work pays off. The exciting moment when you see your prey, make the shot and are able to finally take possession of your harvest. The celebrations of the moment and the incredible memories often seem to stay imprinted in my thoughts for years.

The experiences of hunting can leave great memoires to reflect upon and shared stories to pass on for generations. The obsession of hunting is something that only each hunter can truly feel and know but sharing our obsession through stories and the day’s adventures is what builds the fires in others. Take the time to share the obsession so others can have the opportunity to enjoy the experience.

Story by Hampton Brewer AKA VAOUTDOORSMAN

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Hunting and the stories we share

I have often found that the hunting stories told by our friends and other hunters add to the thrill and anticipation of the hunt. I remember as a young man when first introduced to hunting I was truly amazed by the hunting stories of others. I would intently listen to every detail of every word. Whether in truth, exaggeration or my wonder of reality the detailed story of a day’s hunt or harvest by another hunter filled my dreams with excitement. I believe that sharing hunting stories with kids and first time hunters is an essential to building their desire for the great tradition.

I guess once you become a serious hunter the love for our obsession makes all of us great story tellers. The details of the events, the descriptions of the weather and scenery, the laughter we share and the explanation of the success of the harvest give passion to all our memories. I make it a point to be as honest as possible when telling my stories as I have no real reason to exaggerate my experiences. I have been blessed with some amazing harvests, a lot of missed opportunities and a lot of days just enjoying the woods.

I've often found that grandfathers seem tell the best stories about that wise old buck that always escapes all the hunters in the area. When you’re hunting in that area your dream is to be the one guy to bring out that legendary buck. The names they call them like the Gray Ghost or Barney Buck often add to the image of their size and their ability to escape. The idea of the legendary monster buck that lies down in a ditch and watches dogs run by or makes a complete circle behind you as you pass quietly through the woods. These are the stories we share on the tailgate.

My first shot at a deer left me with an amazing memory, provided a wise lesson and the understanding that yes they do get away, especially if you miss. This is my story of my first shot at a deer. When I was seventeen my friend and his dad had a small farm in Lunenburg County, Virginia. They spent their Saturday’s deer hunting with their neighbors in a small hunt club. They were a great group of guys with some excellent hounds and a lot of areas in the county to hunt. This of course was long before tracking collars, cell phones, computers and CBs were the
best option for outdoor communication.

I was excited to be invited for a day’s hunt with my friends and their neighbors. We headed out early one morning for a short meeting to discuss which block of woods to hunt and who would go where. The location was decided and the guys began to circle a small block of woods. I rode down a red clay logging road in an old army jeep with my friends neighbor and my friend’s dad. The neighbor who was in his sixties was most likely one of the greatest hunting story tellers I had ever met. He had a positive way of building your excitement and making you feel you were going to get a deer right away. He stopped the jeep and told me to head down the road and pointed toward a low area at the bottom of a hill. He said that’s a great spot and the bucks come right through there all the time. When you walk down the hill go to the right just a little and you’ll get a nice buck.

My friend’s dad chose a spot at the top of the hill just above me. He was a seasoned hunter who’d had a lot of harvests under his belt and is to this day still a true marksman and great woodsman. I walked down the slightly damp red clay logging road and could feel the clay pulling at the bottom of my boots in a suction type grab as I moved further down the road. I found a spot on the opposite side of the logging road and stepped back a short distance into the woods. This allowed me the ability to look across the road toward the woods in front of me. I was armed with an old Harrison and Richards single shot 12 gauge. My dad had bought the single shot shotgun for me with the idea that I would learn the value of the first shot.

I looked across the woods into an excellent view of an open spaced mix of small hardwood trees and pines. The area was very easy to see through as the ground underneath the trees had slight rolls, hills and turns and was nothing like the flat ground I was use to back home. The small hills and rolls enhanced the amazing scenery of the woods. On the far side of the woods I could hear the hounds long range cries as they had been released from their containment of the truck bed.
I watched the woods in front of me intently for any movement. After a short while I began to hear a sound through the woods in front of me. A steady rhythmic type noise sounded out loudly as I heard tish tish echoing past the trees just out of sight. I immediately realized that something was moving quickly as it crunched the leaves on the forest floor. As I looked through the woods in front of me I saw movement coming directly toward me. I thought what is that? In an instant I realized that it was a buck and he was following a path through the woods straight for me.

I quietly pulled my hammer back as I could feel the rush of the excitement adding a bit of shakiness to my hand. I raised my gun to my shoulder as the deer began to move closer. Being new to deer hunting and not planning well I made my first mistake. When I raised my gun my arm hit a tree behind me which sent the sound of my error echoing across the woods toward the large buck. The buck was immediately put on alert. I can remember watching him as if in he was in slow motion as he came to a complete stop and basically slammed on the brakes. He looked directly at me for a moment and made a sharp turn to my left. I squeezed the trigger on the shotgun and the sound of the shell’s release broke the silence all around me.

The buck’s speed increased by volume as he continued on toward the logging road in front of me. His advance was no longer straight for me but about twenty yards further to my left. He was heading toward the logging road and he was definitely going to make the crossing. I fumbled nervously into my pocket for other shell and loaded it quickly as the buck continued his fast advance through the woods. Before I could take the second shot he left two perfectly placed tracks in the center of the red clay road and leapt out of sight as I stood in disbelief. I remember saying I can’t believe I missed him!

My friend’s dad had a call to nature just before the buck had come through. When he heard my shot as a new hunter he knew very well I most likely missed. With his pants and underwear down to his ankles he stood up with his shot gun awaiting the buck in case it headed toward him. Talk about a dedicated hunter. The wisdom I gained from my hunt was to make sure you always have plenty of room around you before you raise your arm, to hone your shooting skills before the season, to never underestimate the wisdom of a buck and always know another hunter is waiting if you miss no matter what.

Story by Hampton Brewer AKA the VAOUTDOORSMAN

Sunday, April 10, 2011

A slow start becomes the hunt of a Lifetime

NOVEMBER 13, 2010 Greensville County,Virginia

A slow start becomes the hunt of a lifetime

On November 13th opening day of Virginia’s deer hunting season I awoke at 3:00 a.m. and sprang out of bed with excitement. My goal was to spend a day of hunting with my brother in law Dennis and my thirteen year old son Luke. We pulled out of the driveway into the darkness for a two hour drive to Greensville County, Virginia.

Luke slept in the backseat of the truck as Dennis and I talked our ride away. Our conversation covered every imaginable topic including of course hunting. We talked for awhile about all the deer we had each harvested and I mentioned how great it would be to harvest a true wall hanger. I told Dennis I had been hunting a long time but never harvested a ten pointer or a larger buck. It’s the dream of harvesting that monster buck that haunts every hunter each deer season and fills our dreams the night before the hunt.

We pulled up a long gravel road into the farm and were greeted in the dark by a herd of sleepy cows as we passed through two electric fences to get to our parking spot. While Luke lay fast asleep in the truck Dennis and I dressed outside in the darkness as the cold morning air pressed us to dress quickly. In a blink of an eye Dennis was ready and headed to his stand as the sky began to change from a dense blackness to a light shade of gray.

I awoke Luke who was not receptive at all to the idea of getting out of the truck to get dressed in the cold. I passed him his cloths, socks and boots as the grayness in the sky began to lighten and a hint of orange crept over the distant tree line. In my rush to get in the woods I had to remind myself to be patient with Luke as I felt the morning’s early advantage slipping away. I thought after all the most important part of the hunt was that we enjoyed the day together.

After building numerous layers of cloths Luke and I headed up a field path toward a towering stand of hardwood trees. We slipped under a locked chain gate and turned up another path toward the edge of the hardwoods. As we walked down the path a squirrel sprang from a small tree and leapt in a series of hops across the dry leaves of the forest floor. His movements across the leaves echoed out loudly in a tish tish sound as he advanced further through the woods. Luke’s feet finally gave out from trying to follow my fast paced walk and he stopped. Bundled in his gear and face mask he stood like a statue on the path holding his shotgun. After a short rest we starting walking again toward our deer stand destination.

We found the base of our fifteen foot tall metal ladder stand and were greeted by the sun’s rays shining in spot light type beams on the forest floor. The trees towered over the area like majestic giants with raised arms and open hands. I made several trips up and down the stand with our guns, backpacks and gear. As I reached the top of the stand my backpack slipped out of my hand and made a fast drop to the forest floor. The sound echoed through the woods in a loud flap type noise when it hit the ground. I felt my frustration growing and thought it looks like today is just going to be one of those days. I made another trip down the stand and returned with the backpack. Finally we settled in the stand and began to notice the quietness of the woods as it set in around us.

Out of the silence Luke blurted out that his feet were killing him. He said they were burning up and he needed to take off a pair of socks. The stand was a little tight for both of us as we struggled to get his shoes off and remove one sock at a time. Finally finished with the sock removal detail Luke leaned forward slightly and his orange hat drifted off his head and fell to the ground. I thought this is just not going to be our day! I told him to head down and get his hat. With both of us still irritated from the late arrival and the struggle to get everything right we were finally able to settle into the stand and find a little peacefulness.

I slowly looked around at the large open woods blazing in rich fall colors filled with mature oaks, beech trees, and hollies and thought after all our work the beauty alone was worth the aggravation. As Luke and I looked around we whispered to each other as we pointed out the distinctive features of the amazing scenery. The woods were filled with trees sporting vibrate colors in various shades of reds, yellows and browns. The sun’s rising brought forth a blaze of color as its beams seemed to illuminate the leaves around us in a glowing sensation. We noted in particular a large American Beech tree with yellow leaves that seemed to shine like gold as the sun’s light coated its leaves. With both commented on the great fresh air and even took in a few deep breaths as if to clear our lungs of the city’s less than fantastic air. We noticed a squirrel that climbed a small tree at the edge of the woods near the path we had walked in on.

As we watched the squirrel a sudden white flash moved about three feet from the forest floor and knocked the squirrel out of the tree. We both whispered almost at the same time a hawk. The hawk swiftly followed the squirrel to the forest floor but missed his breakfast just as fast as he had flown. He immediately turned and flew a few feet from the forest floor out of site to the back of the woods. We both commented how cool it was to see the hawk go after the squirrel.

I became a little uncomfortable in the stand and stood up while Luke sat in the seat just below the shooting rail. He was hidden behind the camouflage burlap and leaned against the tree in a slight dozing position. As I looked out across the woods past the path we came in on I could see the denseness of small group of pine trees lined along an old cut over track. Just on the other side of the pine thicket out of view was Dennis sitting in a tall stand overlooking a small open field surrounded by cut over and pines. He was hunting in a deer stand we call the iron stand. The stand is most likely Luke’s favorite deer stand. I had convinced Luke to give the stand up to Dennis today as we had shotguns and Dennis had his rifle.

As the forest fell silent squirrels pranced across logs and climbed trees while singing birds began to fill the woods in a series of various sounds. Luke and I noted several songs and even smiled at the sound of a few which almost seemed as if they were trying to outdo one another. Our interest changed abruptly as a loud nay sounded out from the pine thicket in front of us. A second loud nay rang out almost immediately followed by the sound of a loud boom which shattered the silence and echoed abruptly through the woods. We looked at each other and whispered Dennis got one. Apparently Dennis had made the nay sounds to try to get the deer to stop long enough for a shot. Luke sat still in the stand as I looked toward the pine thicket just outside the hardwoods we were in. I noticed some movement on the edge of the pines and watched as a deer slowly moved parallel along the dense green background of the small pines. In a few minutes the deer turned and entered the hardwoods almost even with our stand. I whispered to Luke don’t make a move. The deer paused for a moment and began heading toward us.

Still standing with my gun already raised I noted it was a buck. He stopped for a moment and stood still slightly blocked by a small beech tree. I wondered if he noticed me. He slowly moved forward and stopped within a sweet shooting spot. I aimed took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger as a loud thunder echoed the woods and the stand. The deer quickly turned to his left and bolted away from the stand. I swung my gun while following his departure and took another shot at his rib cage. The shot thundered the woods again as the deer continued to advance further through the forest along the edge of a ridge.

I listened to the leaves and watched the area of the deer’s departure intently. The sound of the deer’s advancement through the dry noisy leaves had fallen silent. At that point I didn’t want to push the deer and though I’ll wait here awhile before I get down. Dennis called me on my cell and I asked if I got him? I told him that I wasn’t really sure but he had stopped moving through the woods. He said you better get down out of the stand because some dogs are coming through the woods and they are hot on his trail.

Luke and I quickly climbed down the stand and advanced slowly toward the area the buck had gone. We found a group of fallen trees and knelt down in front of them. We watched intently and listened carefully only to discover a constant stillness in the woods in front of us. The distant sounds of the hounds advance turned into a reality as their long stroked bays seemed to shake the ground around us when the first redbone hound passed within a few feet of us. The dog was running the same track I had seen the deer follow when all of a sudden the buck sprang from behind a large oak tree which was just a short distance in front of us.

As the buck passed through the woods thick holly trees and dense underbrush concealed his exit only leaving the sound of his feet on the dry leaves to indicate the direction of his departure. All along the hounds bays rang out through the woods in a steady series of slow deep throated woos. A second dog entered the woods and followed the chase as the buck and hounds passed over a high ridge toward the rear of the property.

Luke and I listened to the dogs as the sound of their chorus changed entirely. Dennis called me and asked what happen? I told him the dogs pitch had changed and they seemed to be staying in one area now. He said he had noticed that as well and we better go to them quick. I told him we’d call him if we needed any help. Before we left the woods Luke and I shredded off our jackets and a few cloths. In order to save time we walked quickly toward the dogs along an open high ridge at the edge of the property which lead downhill toward the Nottoway River.

It was apparent as we passed through the woods that the dogs were settled in the same area as their howling had changed from a constant spaced series to a mixture of growling and yipping. As we passed along the ridge a memory suddenly entered my mind from a previous hunt when I had to go after a wounded deer. This time was different as Luke was with me. The safety concerns immediately became a reality. We stopped on the top side of the ridge and I told Luke the seriousness of the situation. I told him by the sounds of the dogs below us I was positive the deer and dogs were fighting and had no idea what we’d walk into.

I instructed him to follow a short distance behind me and if at any point the deer moves his way to get behind a large tree. I told him not to shoot and let me take care of the deer. I took a few additional moments to go over some other possibilities of what to do and what not to do and what to do if I have a problem. The seriousness of the situation showed on his face as he acknowledged my instructions. As we advanced through the woods downhill the underbrush became thick and almost impossible to see through. I could hear the dogs as if they were just in front of us.

I held my hand up to Luke and we stopped for a minutes as we could hear the shifting of dry leaves, growling, yipping and aggressive howls. I envisioned the large angry buck charging the hounds with his sharp anthers down in an unpleasant game of tag as the hounds surrounded him and they exchanged bites and stabs. The movement and sounds changed again briefly. Oddly enough all the sounds fell off for a few minutes. When they began again and we could hear the dogs aggressive howls mixed with growling and a few deep throated long bays.

We quickly advanced through the underbrush and much to my surprise we stepped out into the open woods a lot closer to the river than I had expected. The dog’s howls rang out from the center of the river. Luke and I looked out across the steady moving Nottoway River to a small island. At the end of the island was a narrow stand of dry white sand colored marsh grass. On the edge of the marsh grass laid a large motionless buck with a huge set of antlers and three redbone hounds circling the buck howling. The dogs moved back and forth through the grass biting on the deer’s neck and legs and occasionally growling as they pulled on the deer’s motionless legs. Luke and I stood in amazement for a moment admiring the size of the buck. I set my gun down and worked my way down the edge of the eight foot tall river bank to the sandy edge of the river. I looked out toward the island in the middle of the river and said man how am I going to get him out. I told Luke to relax and keep an eye on me as it looks like I’m going into the water.

In my excitement to get the buck I hadn’t thought to much about the depth of the water only that I knew I was going in to get him either way. I began stripping off my cloths and gear to a far below modest level. Once stripped down I immediately noticed the depth of the water and realized this was not the place to cross. I tossed my cloths up the bank toward Luke and returned to the top of the river bank. I told Luke if something happens to follow the path and head up to the front of the property and get Dennis.

I walked further down the river bank and discovered an area where I could actually see bottom. The only trouble was the bank was far too steep to bring the deer up. I made my way down the bank wearing my boots and just enough clothing to make it a little embarrassing.

When I stepped off the bank my first boot planted in a small mud sandbar which filled my noise with a stench as my boot sucked down into the mud. I quickly moved over the mud only to find the coldness of the water in such a fashion that it immediately brought the reality of my task to a true awareness as it surrounded my waist and legs. I looked down through the water at the brown colored bottom which was littered in rocks of every imaginable size along with tree branches and scattered debris. I made my way toward the island and could feel the current rushing against my waist as the water pushed further downstream.

As I reached the edge of the island I was still far from where the buck was located. I stopped in the water and stood in front of a tall hedge of dry sand colored marsh grass. I looked toward the end of the island where the buck was and noticed the water dropped off far deeper than I had planned on. I decided to enter the marsh grass and make my way through the grass to the point of the island.

When I stepped into the marsh grass I pushed the pointed blades out of the way just as a redbone hound exited the grass and hit the water. Oddly enough I immediately noticed the marsh grass was stabilized on a mixture of mud and river rock. As I began advancing toward the buck I noticed numerous bedding areas on the island. It was apparent that the deer were using the island as a prime hiding spot on a regular basis.

I advanced through the grass and stood over the buck as the feeling of excitement rushed upon me. The deer lay on the very tip of the island with his legs toward the water and his glorious antlers facing me. I looked over at Luke standing high on the top of the river bank and yelled out he’s huge! I lifted his rack for Luke to see. I counted his points and sticker points and yelled over to Luke who acknowledged each of my responses with just as much excitement. As I counted and gave my report Luke would yell back in excitement with each number. At the time I counted a total of fifteen points.

I thanked the Lord for the great blessing and planned my return with the deer. The water beneath the tip of the island appeared far deeper then I cared to enter. I realized this wasn’t going to be an easy task. I made the decision to pull the buck across the island through the mud and grass to the area I had originally entered the island. I grabbed his anthers and pulled hard as I could feel his weight working on my legs in the wet soft mud. After a short distance I took a break and I rested from the effort.

I finally reached the shallower side of the island and hit the water as I slid in with the buck following behind. The coldness of the water was far more embracing then I remembered during the trip across. The weight of the deer immediately became an easy task as it freely floated in the water. The biggest problem I now faced was managing him against the rushing current. At one point I had to get downstream from the deer to keep from losing him to rivers steady moving advance.

As I finally returned to Luke on the opposite side I discovered in order to get the deer up the bank I was going to have to return to the original spot I had first tried to enter the water. It had a slight slope and appeared as an easy incline upward. The sandy bank along the water was still at least eight foot below the top of the river bank. I pulled the deer from the water onto the sandy bank and positioned it far above the moving water. I thought I really need help with this and started to call Dennis when I realized my cell phone was in my jacket left under our deer stand. Luke took a good look at the buck and was excited and pleased with his size. The real work was about to begin. Even after I got the buck up the river bank I would had a great distance to pull the buck and every bit of it was up hill. It was far too great a distance for dragging as it would have turned into an all day event.

I decided to head out of the woods and get my deer cart. I thought I could send Luke and wait at the river with the deer but I was worried if he would get lost coming or going. My fear was if we both went the dogs could return and chew on the buck or someone else may come by and take the deer. Luke showed his true bravery as he said dad I’ll stay here with the buck and you can go get the cart. I headed down the path and climbed a tall hill which leads to the front of the property. The climb uphill was very steep and forced me to lean forward as I worked my way to the top. Leaving Luke alone along the river admittedly bothered me and I rushed in order to get back quickly.

As I climbed the steep incline of the hill I could feel my water logged boots swish and slip as I struggled forward. I could feel my chest pounding and my throat slightly burning from my rush and excitement to complete the task. I stopped momentarily as I caught my breath for a few minutes. Climbing the hill under normal circumstances on any other day I usually always stopped midway anyway but my rush to the truck had made the climb that much more strenuous. After a short rest I continued my climb and finally reached the top of the hill. The long flat walk out of the woods and onto the farm path was an instant relief even in water logged boots.

With a quick dive into the back of my truck I began undoing the deer cart and grabbed a heavy rope. My friend Brian arrived on his four wheeler and I filled him in on the entire excitement of the hunt. Much to my delight he offered to help with his four wheeler. With the rope loaded on the four wheeler we rode down the steep hill toward the river. Luke was happy to see Brian and pleased with the great advantage of his help.

We looked at the buck and pointed out the island as we reviewed the hunt. Brian positioned his four wheeler away from the river bank toward the woods. I tied a rope around the deer’s neck and Brian tied the other end to the four wheeler. Brian pulled with his four wheeler while I pushed the deer upward from the bottom of the river bank. As the four wheeler moved forward the deer’s nose would occasionally jam in the side of the bank and I would have to move the deer off the bank as it continued upward. When the deer finally got close to top of the bank. Brian stopped his four wheeler and pulled the deer up the rest of the way. We all took a minutes to look the buck over.

Luke and I followed Brian up the steep hill as he dragged the deer behind his four wheeler and out to our truck at to the front of the property. We spent the rest of the day admiring our blessing, sharing the story and spending time with all our hunting partners. We spent some time examining the buck and noted an area along the deer’s hide at its neck and wondered if Dennis’s first shot may have grazed the neck when the deer crossed the field. I’d like to thank the Lord for the Great harvest, Franklin for allowing us to hunt on such a fantastic farm, and Brian for all the tremendous help of getting the deer out. I’d also like to thank Dennis for helping me with all the heavy chores of field dressing, butchering and for preparing the hide for mounting.

Most of all I’d like to thank the guys for being such great friends and sharing the experience.

Story by Hampton Brewer AKA VAOUTDOORSMAN

Thursday, January 27, 2011

A few days of deer hunting in November

My brother in law Dennis joined me at my cabin on Monday evening. Dennis was awaiting surgery on his leg and spent the afternoon limping through the woods on an injured knee. Talk about an obsessed and dedicated hunter. He even drove three hours to the property.

We had a nice afternoon of hunting yet rain worked hard on our comfort levels while we hunted through the evening until dark. The rain seemed to keep anything from moving throughout the evening and we headed to the cabin for some relief. We spent the night relaxing in the cabin with some great conversation while exchanging stories from our youth. The cabin was warm and excellent to sleep in other then the occasional interruptions of our snoring exchanges.

The alarm clock woke us around 5:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning. We enjoyed some hot coffee and short breakfast heated on a small camping stove. We left the cabin for a cool downhill walk to our morning stands. Darkness blanketed the woods as I made my way to my stand just a short distance from the river. I followed a series of white round reflectors which seemed to blaze back at me from my headlamp as I passed through the dense dark woods. The reflectors lead me to the edge of a small flowing creek. As I crossed several rocks the water broke the silence of the woods by filling the area with the sound of a pouring sensation as it rolled across the rocks. The light from my head lamp sparkled on the ripples of the rolling water as I passed over the reflections. I advanced up a steep hill and found the base of my stand. I reached out to find the dampness of the ladder which was a cold wet reminder of the heavy rain the day before. Once settled in the stand I watched the woods around me as the blackness began to transform to a light shade of gray and the trees appeared as black shadows. Even though I had plenty of sleep I could feel my eyelids dropping on occasion as I relaxed in the peacefulness of the woods. My eyes cracked opened slowly as the dark shadows of the trees began to show their detail and the forest floor became apparent. As I scanned the woods around me I was drawn immediately to a slight movement at the bottom of a deep ravine beside my stand.

In an area which appeared to be fifty feet below my stand the small creek pushed steadily toward the river in a mixture of clear and white bubbling water. At the edge of the creek I noticed a slow movement. As I watched carefully I could make out what appeared to be several legs of an animal. The animal’s body was entirely hidden from view by small saplings and hollies. The opposite side of the woods rose upward from the creek bottom and was easy to see through as mature hardwoods were widely spaced allowing a great distance of sight. The creature stepped forward past the hollies out into the open only to present to complete outline of a deer.

Oddly enough the deer placed its nose to the ground like a dog and began walking a steady search of continuing circles up the ridge and further away from me. Immediately I thought maybe it’s a small buck tracking does and I just could not see the antlers. I quickly searched my backpack and pulled out a rattle bag as the deer began to move out of sight. I made a short series of rattles and watched the top edge of the ridge. The deer reappeared and moved quickly to the top of the open ridge. I rattled again and watched as the deer stood perfectly still looking toward my stand. In plain view I had identified the deer as a doe. I watched quietly as the doe turned and moved out of sight. Doe season was still several weeks away but the opportunity to call the deer back to me by rattling really made my day.

Story by Hampton Brewer AKA VAOUTDOORSMAN