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It wasn't your traditional big woods hunting camp. In fact, it wasn't really a camp at all. The old yellow brick house that my uncle lived in, the house he himself grew up in, served as deer camp for our family and friends for the better part of three decades.



The anticipation of the day after Thanksgiving reached a fever pitch in the few weeks leading up to the holiday. For that Friday, and the next four days or so after, revolved around deer hunting.

There were so many traditions involved. The sighting in of rifles and a few shooting contests. Scouting trips on Saturday and Sunday, when we all finally decided where we'd be sitting first light on Monday. The Sunday evening spotting trip, hoping to catch a glimpse of that big buck that we hoped we'd see come morning. The traditional first night supper, a chicken roasted with whole potatoes, onions, carrots, and turnips. And of course the camaraderie.

Something that may seem a bit odd is that even though there was nearly a hundred acres of land there, we never once hunted it on opening day. Instead we always drove a few miles north, to woods that generations of my family had deer hunted on.



It seemed one of us always managed to get a buck, and I can recall only once or twice that nobody scored on the first day. Some truly nice bucks and a lot of so called average bucks, but all were and still are memorable.

My uncle sold the house and land in 1996, but he continued to live there for a couple years thereafter, per the selling agreement. It remained as camp for those couple of years but it wasn't the same. Then just like that it was over.

It's been a little over a decade now since we've had the real deer camp experience and traditions that go along with it. That coupled with my dads passing a few years ago, there is a real void when this time of year rolls around. For some reason I'm feeling it a little more this year than years past.

With all the changes in management plans and seasons, it seems tradition has gone a little bit by the wayside. They say traditions are meant to be broken, but I can't help but think we've lost a little something along the way.
 

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Eye that is a great peice and the pictures really add to it.

One of the peices I just submitted to the Potter Enterprise talks about the same thing sort of. How I miss the old camp and some of the simplier things that went with it. We rebuilt on the same lot, hunt the same hills, but the group is now alot smaller, older guys are gone, younger guys are missing, and you don't realize how much you actually miss those drafty gaps in the wall, the crooked hard to open windows, the bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling, just the plain simpleness of it all.

Had I never known the old camp, this new one would be a dream cabin....I to miss the traditions the old guys seem to of taken with them when they passed on. Maybe what I do today holds the same value in the youngsters eyes, but it does not feel like the bar is as high as it once was. Simple seems hard to achieve...if that makes any sense.

Great post!!!
 

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ANOTHER GREAT STORY I AGREE 100% WITH YOU WE DID LOSE SOMETHING ALONG THE WAY ALOT HAS CHANGED ME AND MY BROTHER (REM722) HAD PASSING OF MY DAD AND TWO UNCLES STUFF IS JUST NOT THE SAME WE KEEP GOING UP TO CAMP MAKE A GOOD TIME BUT ITS NOTHING LIKE WHEN THE OLDTIMERS WERE WITH US, WITH THE STORIES,SILLY ANTICS THIS IS A GOOD PLACE TO VENT OUT THESE FEELINGS I AM SURE WE ALL GET SAD AND SAY WHY ARE WE GOING THROUGH THE MOTIONS BUT ITS NOT THE SAME I MISS ALOT WHEN MY DAD WOULD TAKE ME AND MY BOTHER (REM722) TO BUY OUR HUNTING LICENSE AND WE WOULD GET THEM IN CONSECUTIVE NUMBERS THINKING IT WOULD BRING US LUCK IN A STRANGE WAY ALL OF THESE MEMORIES ARE GREAT JUST WISH DAD WAS HERE FOR ONE MORE SPECIAL SEASON (WE ALL MISS YOU DAD A.K.A. CAPPY)
 
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