By Jeffrey Petts
Before we even get started…
I am not a hunter, but don’t lob me in with the anti-hunters. PETA is a wonderful organization as long as we’re discussing People Eating Tasty Animals. I’m a carnivore so my heart and stomach rests solidly on the same side as the Bambi slayers.
But that doesn’t mean I partake in the slaying.
Look, I’ve got nothing against furry animals. I’m a pet owner, err, guardian I guess is the new politically correct title for feeding and cleaning up after the little critters. Either way, I love my cats and my dearly departed dogs. That said, I also like cheeseburgers. And bacon. Eggs are a bit less offensive, unless you’re a diehard anti-abortion advocate. On certain days, I’ll even order a bacon cheeseburger with a fried egg on top so I guess my taste in livestock is truly indiscriminate. I can eat one animal just as easily as another.
Now, there are some folks out there with the belief we (humans) should only eat what we’re willing to kill. Well, I really like cheeseburgers. I mean, I really like ‘em. If I’ve got to drop Elsie to continue my cheeseburger love affair, well, send me to Texas and pass the sledgehammer because daddy has to eat.
Luckily for me we have slaughterhouses and grocery stores to alleviate the need for me to bloody my hands. I’ve seen an animal field dressed. It’s not pretty, but it’s not the end of the world either. Even after watching, I still gleefully participated in eating the four-legged entrée on hooves.
(Oh, what the heck. Here’s a ten-minute video on field dressing a deer. Enjoy!)
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKm42ql7NSw[/youtube]
What I’m getting at is though I annually trek to northern points in Michigan for deer camp, I’m still considered an outsider by hunting standards. I’ve never experienced “buck feverâ€. Frankly, I don’t even consider deer hunting much of a sport because they’re not the fiercest of opponents. (Bear hunting, on the other hand seems to be a more equally balanced battle of wills.) For five or six years now, I’ve made a three-hour drive to the middle-of-nowhere – and I’m talking Deliverance middle-of-nowhere – just to participate in the unique experience that is deer camp. So if you’re one of the anti-hunting crowd, take solace in the fact I harmed no deer in the writing of this article. Just sit back and try to understand why a guy might hold experiencing such a camp so dear.
(Sorry. That pun was inexcusable. I promised to spare the deer but readers are subject to all the comic firepower I can put forth.)
Day One
The first day is the best and worst of times. “Hunting widow†is a common term where I come from. My wife is a trooper and supports my annual pilgrimage, but the first morning is an emotional trial. I’m eager to leave. She dreads the departure. I feign sympathy. She pretends to be strong.
This goes on for at least an hour and every moment is excruciatingly painful. It’s the first day of deer camp!!! But to act excited is to want to be away from one’s wife and family. (Of course, that is the case… and it’s not.) I rationalize it all by holding to the belief that absence makes the heart grow fonder and then I bolt out the door. We’ll love each other more upon my return. Whatever.
I prefer to begin hunting season on the day before Opening Day so I can enjoy the leisurely drive northward. There’s no rush. Traffic is relatively light. (A majority of hunters prefer to race up after a full day of work so they can enjoy the extra day on the backend of the season. Considering I’ve no intention of actually sending a four-legged critter into the afterlife, whether my limited vacation days are spent before, during or after the season makes little difference.)
Forty-five minutes after deserting my family, I arrive at the home of my buddy Craig. In a nutshell, Craig was a former-coworker with a penchant for overreacting to the least amount of stress and a successful wife. Years ago he transplanted the family to the edge of Podunk and quit his job to be a stay-at-home dad. (I would mock him for this except my green-shaded envy prevents it.) Craig is hardcore… or so he would like everyone to believe. Hardcore hunter? No, hardcore everything. It’s Craig’s way or the highway. He’s louder, tougher and more stubborn than anyone. (Or so he says.) If he believes it, then it’s the only way. If he doesn’t care, it’s because the topic isn’t even worthy of his opinion. (Yes, Craig lives in very small, myopic universe where everything revolves around him.) Under normal circumstances, this would be sad and pathetic except that he actually prefers things this way. He shuns coworkers (when he actually had a job) and friends, but I consider him one of my closest.
And it was this shut-in that first introduced me to the hunting experience and bared his most coveted possession – deer camp – to my unending ridicule and derision. Luckily, I took the time to embrace the experience rather than opt for the one-time joke. I’ve been back every year since with the exception of the birth of my daughter. (For the record, my wife was sure I was coming north that week. Not even I’m that dumb.)
(Wow, two paragraphs about another guy. I’ll bet most of you thought I got my man-crush out a few months back in that other article. Nope. It’s called camaraderie. I’ve been lucky enough to share it through hockey and hunting. Others need a Band of Brothers-type ordeal to fully appreciate it. Get a hold of yourself. There’s no man-on-man action about to take place. If you’re hoping for some, turn on USA Network and catch some professional wrestling. This is about manly men doing manly things like killing stuff while consuming inordinate amounts of alcohol to dull the pain of a loveless childhood… err, forget that. Just a bit more about Craig and then we’ll get back to the deer camp odyssey.)
Despite the gruff exterior, I suspect deep down Craig is nothing more than a whiny little girl. Remember when I wrote the article describing another buddy of mine as ‘The Guy’ to call when you’ve got an extra ticket? Craig read the post and said, “Oh, is it another article about Larry?†You would have thought we were in high school and I was calling someone else my bff. “Why don’t you ever call me when there’s an extra ticket?†(Probably because you live far enough away to enjoy nightly viewings of the Aurora Borealis.) Who gets jealous of this stuff? We’re grown men, right? So that’s Craig in a nutshell; ultra manly guy façade over the brittle psyche of a fourteen-year-old girl. Why is this relevant? It’s not really but making fun of Craig while in camp is a dangerous proposition considering he’s armed and borderline psychotic.
Let’s finish introducing the cast for this year. Craig’s two uncles have eighty years of hunting experience between them. They also fight like a married couple. Dennis is a retiree living the good life. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t own a watch or bring a clock with him for deer camp. He epitomizes the easy-going lifestyle. He’s the wizened old man of the group. With deteriorating knees and enough ailments for his own pharmaceutical commercial, Denny gets to take his time doing anything and is exempt from the most physically demanding of chores.
Dave, on the other hand, is a busybody with a penchant for accomplishing almost nothing. And what little he does finish is usually done poorly. This might seem a harsh criticism except Dave is such a nice guy it really doesn’t bother you when he comes up short of mediocre. He’s the kind of fellow that won’t feel like drinking beer until you offer a free one and then he drinks all your beer. After a while, you just remember to bring extra beer because Dave’s there. Dave has also stands as Craig’s chief competition for getting a deer each year. It’s a one-sided contest because I don’t believe Dave possesses a competitive bone in his body, but if he gets a deer first, Craig is sure to feel the pressure.
So there’s our merry bunch of idiots for this camp. Everyone retired to their campers early in anticipation of Opening Day while I stayed up and worked on Canon Fodder. On the bright side, I wouldn’t be trudging through the woods when 5:45 rolled around. I opted for playing camp cook and catching up on some much needed writing. The low battery prompt on the laptop admonished me to wrap it up for the evening.
Be sure to check back in later this week when I’ll continue our Deer Camp Odyssey. It will involve some alcohol, two passed-out hockey teammates and a successful hunt.
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