Between sendin' off Grandpa and havin' all the family in town, followed by a rather shitty work stretch, I left y'all hangin' on the second week of the deer season. Hang no more.
Ron, our fearless camp host, did us proud last Monday. He started off the day by taggin' a big ol' doe that turned out to be a tagged Penn State research deer. Not feelin' that was enough for one day, he made one helluva shot and put the hammer on a handsome eight-point a few hours later.
On Thursday, the day after we buried Grandpa, I had the honor of takin' a doe with his deer rifle. I've said before that I don't get too worked up about shootin' doe, but I will definitely remember this one. Not only because of usin' Grandpa's gun to take her, but when I roller her over to gut her, I was surprised to find that it was a three-legged doe. I've heard about 'em before, but I can't recall ever seein' one until then. It was a young doe and the wound was healed over except for a length of bone hangin' out, so who knows what coulda possibly happened to her. A pretty neat trophy, all things considered.
My cousin Adam and Ron's brother, Jimmy, finished off the PA season with a pair of baldies up at camp, in the middle of a snowstorm.
Our friend Robert sent me a picture of his last day Maryland bruiser, a piebald no less. I haven't heard the story yet, but I'd have to guess this was one of his finer bucks.
Overall, it was a purty excitin' gun season. We laid a whoopin' on the baldies, although the bucks managed to keep us at bay for the most part. Best of all though was havin' snow for almost the entire season, which doesn't happen often around these parts. I love deer huntin' in the snow more than any other weather condition out there.
Now, on to the late flintlock season... hopefully we'll pile up a few more, and hopefully I'll knock off a bucket list item by whackin' a buck with the ol' spark gun.