Lansing, Michigan – -(Ammoland.com)- Looking back over five decades of Michigan deer hunting, some seasons stand out more than others. Interesting, however, is how the strongest memories seem to center more on anything but kills.
Oh, sure, some good deer have been taken as a result of paying those dues for so long, but it’s the adventures surrounding the hunts that come to mind.
There was the tent deer camp on state land in the early ‘70s near Gladwin, which had been my in-laws’ family tradition since the 1930s. Everyone pitched in with camping paraphernalia including tents, camp stoves, heaters and the like – a genuine family affair. Yet, in a moment of madness, an argument ensued over a misunderstanding, and lifelong hunting partners abruptly abandoned camp and took their gear with them, never to be part of the camp again.
It was that year that I took my first buck – actually the first one I had ever seen in the wild – but, only after I had won a coin toss with another hunter to settle ownership of the animal.
In the early ‘90s there was the trip to the Upper Peninsula’s Iron County, where our camp was to be established in commercial forest land accessible to my two-wheel drive 1971 Ford pickup camper. And, accessibility is paramount in that country, where a day’s snowfall can put one in his place and keep him there. Just getting there was half the battle, but when Doug and I arrived, we found our only known campsite in the woods taken by other hunters. We ended up putting the tire chains on the ol’ truck and forged through deep snow and made camp beside the Net River.
Oddly enough, the new location was right in the heart of some familiar hunting ground but it was on the opposite side of the river. That’s when we came up with the idea to create a river crossing of sorts in a rather low stretch of water with a heavy rope and river rocks used for stepping stones. Doug and I were both able to take bucks as a result.
This past season is also one to remember. My good friend, Joe, who routinely helps when it’s time to plant food plots, or to work on permanent stands, began the year by slipping on some ice and breaking his wrist and fracturing his back. Following that, in the summer of last year, he was part of a work crew that helped raise a large hunting platform. Joe was headed home early that day, and when I asked him if he was tired, he indicated that he was. He telephoned me the following day from the hospital, after learning that his inexplicable weakness was actually the result of a heart attack. Doctors installed a few stents in his supply lines and he was ready for archery season.
Then, on one fateful evening after hunting ended, he carelessly discharged his crossbow and crudely severed a bone and tendon in his thumb, nearly taking it off completely.
I wondered if he’d be able to participate in firearms deer season at all, but the ol’ boy sucked it up – cast and all – and, hunted with a handgun. And, when he finally got the cast removed in December, he managed to make a clean shot on a mature doe with his muzzleloader in the final hour of the season.
No, it wasn’t a record-book whitetail but it was a memorable end to another chapter in this adventure of life.
About Glen Wunderlich Charter Member Professional Outdoor Media Association (POMA). Outdoor writer and columnist for The Argus-Press (www.argus-press.com) and blog site at www.thinkingafield.org Member National Rifle Association (NRA), Michigan United Conservation Clubs (MUCC), member U.S. Sportsmen’s Alliance (USSA), Quality Deer Management Association (QDMA), Commemorative Bucks of Michigan (CBM).