There has been a longstanding tradition with my dad and I to battle hypothermia while attempting to bag a cervidae, in particular, a whitetail deer every November 15th, so that we may feed our families and have something to talk about around the bean machine at work. For the past few years, my cousin Mike has been a welcome addition to the "Deer Management Cooperators" team. This past weekend was no different. On Friday we began the 3 ½ hour drive to the great white north of Wolverine, MI and the outdoorsmen's dream that is my dad's cabin.

   Saturday morning I hiked back to my blind, the same one I've had since I can remember. I move out of it occasionally throughout the season, but I always call it home opening day. It hasn't brought me much luck, so you might ask why I'm always there, and, well that's a good question. It just feels right I guess.

   Mike got a scare shortly after sunrise, from a porcupine that climbed out of it's home in a tree and made a beeline directly for him. Apparently, Mike was hunting in the prickly little guy's breakfast nook. As the porcupine drew closer and closer, Mike switched off the safety on his rifle. Once he got to Mike's boot and took a sniff, the porcupine realized something was not quite right in his forest home and puffed out his quills. Luckily it didn't take him long to trot off in the other direction and look for his breakfast elsewhere. I'm sure Mike breathed a sigh of relief as he didn't have to make the choice of whether to get a face full of quills or risk shooting off his favorite walking appendage.

   I didn't see much that day except a few squirrels and a hunter who seemed to be a little confused. He seemed to be a little surprised to see me in my blind. You see, we hunt in a small stretch of public land at the end of a cul de sac about a block from the cabin. Unfortunately, so does everyone else in the neighborhood. I'm sure they all thought they were going to have their own private piece of public hunting land when they built their cabins. Too bad public land means just what you'd think it does.

   Anyway, none of us saw any deer that day until we left the woods and arrived in the bustling town of Indian River, specifically, Pat & Gary's Party Store. If you are a hunter, Pat & Gary's is the place to be on opening day. It's nice to be around so many hunters and see what they were able to bag. It really helps pick up your spirits if you get skunked. They have a nice buck pole set up with enough prizes so that just about everyone who brings in a buck walks out with a gift too. Prizes have included new rifles (for 1st, 2nd and 3rd biggest bucks, I believe), coolers, gift certificates, hats, etc. Besides the obvious prizes (biggest buck, biggest rack, etc.) they also have prizes for oldest hunter, youngest hunter, and my favorite, ugliest rack, which I'd be willing to bet went to a deer with a twisted antler on one side and a button on the other. I didn't hear the final death count, but we estimated it in the high fifties, low sixties. Most years it has been in the high sixties or seventies, I believe. With renewed hope we picked up our pizza from B.C. and headed back to the cabin.

   The next morning started out okay with the exception of a malfunctioning walkie-talkie. My dad gave his up, so Mike and I each had one before we ventured into the woods. My dad decided to hunt an area a ways away from us, so he figured it probably wouldn’t reach anyway. After first light I began practicing sighting in different objects in the woods, rocks, stumps, leaves, etc. to pass the time. While doing this, I accidentally hit my walkie-talkie and messed up the settings. I tried getting it working again, but quickly gave up as it was making a lot of noise whenever I’d hit a button so I just turned it off.

   Around 9, I heard a shot that seemed really close. I figured it was probably Mike, so I planned on calling him about 15 minutes later. Then I remembered I successfully disabled my radio. I didn’t end up seeing anything except a blue jay that decided to dance around not 5 feet in front of me. It is nice being able to see nature so close up without them knowing you’re there.

   At 10:30 I went to meet Mike at our designated meeting spot, but couldn’t find him, so I went to where I thought his blind was, but he was nowhere to be found. My dad came to the meeting spot after a little bit and we figured that shot must have been him. About 15 minutes later we could see him start to make his way down the path. And he was dragging something! My dad and I ran over to him to see what he got.

   He had shot a nice 3 point buck. He had to shoot it from behind his right side, which if you’ve ever held a rifle is an odd angle to shoot. The deer must have had his body turned, because the bullet went in his hindquarters, came out his hip, and went into his ribs. Thankfully, the bullet dodged any messy organs. He said it was hard tracking the deer because there wasn’t much of a blood trail as the deer’s stomach had come out the exit wound, stopping any blood flow. Luckily it died quickly and he didn’t have to track it very far.

   My dad and I each grabbed an antler and let Mike take a break while we dragged it out. We all rotated positions and took a few breathers, but eventually we got it to the truck. From there it was just a short drive back to deer camp. We hoisted the buck on the Wesorick family buck pole and Mike had a shot of whiskey to celebrate.

   That night we ate very well. My dad had made some of his excellent chili with venison burger from last year’s hunt and we fried up the tenderloins of the sole buck pole occupant. If you’ve never had venison tenderloins, you don’t know what you’re missing.

   The next morning was uneventful and we cut out of the woods early. Before we left town we got Mike’s deer checked in at the DNR in Indian River. They aged it at 2 ½ years. Mike showed me the new patch and it was ok. It’s a little boxy for my tastes, but still looks good. At least they say “successful deer hunter” on them again. For a few years they just said “deer management cooperator” on them.

   Overall good times were had by all and I’m excited to go back Thanksgiving weekend.

-John