Whether you go out on opening day, come home and hang the gun up until the next season, or are one of the lucky that join in on a long established deer camp, the days are getting close.
Deer campers by and large came about them through dad's, uncles and other family members. Some are formed from frieneships. A like-minded group of people get together, figure out a place to hunt and there you have the beginnings of camp.
Growing up, I was never exposed to deer camp. By that time my dad had sold his rifle choosing instead to hunt pheasants with his good buddy John Greene.
The two made their own fun whether hunting, telling stories, or sharing an adult beverage. In those days, Pontiac Lake was primo pheasant territory.
I remember a story told that shows just how predicitble these two were when they got together. Apparently after a days hunt they were to get cleaned up and go to dinner. As the afternoon moved into evening my mother called Mrs. Greene inquiring as to whether she had seen the two bird hunters.
"Why Jeanne. Don't you know by now that when those two get together there is no telling when or where they will show up," Mrs. Greene answered.
No, then didn't get into trouble or break any laws, but every so often they did lose track of time.
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