(Originally published in The Ottawa SUN November 23, 2008)
White-tailed deer hunting, for me, is part of a lifelong obsession with soaking up Mother Nature like a sphagnum moss. The deer woods are a magical place where I find solitude and learn a bit more about myself. You just never know what might appear over the knoll or through the next cedar swale.
I find myself back in the historic woods of Fairmont Kenauk in Montebello – where the stands of mature hardwoods and rolling hills beckon. While pursuing the elusive whitetail, the setting is typically universal; but there is something about the mountains and crisp, cool air to set the stage for the perfect hunt.
4 a.m.
The alarm bell breaks the drone of three snoring hunters, signalling the start of another deer hunt. “Let’s do this right,” I think to myself from under the flannelette sheets. Although my mind is filled with visions of large-antlered ungulates, I try to stay focused.
4:15 a.m.
I roll out of bed and reach for my flashlight as a grunting sound billows from the next room. “Well, the deer aren’t gonna shoot themselves;” my father declares. The gas-powered Coleman coffee maker gurgles, as a misty fog drifts across the window of Muskrat chalet – our home for the next two days.
4:50 a.m.
As we nibble on the last few slices of half-charred toast, a plan is hatched. “With fresh snow on the ground, we should explore the territory for deer movement;” suggests the elder Morrison. Since age and experience carry more weight during a deer hunt – at 76 years old and 64 deer seasons to his credit – we all agree.
5:30 a.m.
I fall into my role as team catalyst and gadget guy. Deer scent dispensers refilled, two-way radios checked for battery power and GPS units accounted for. Three neat piles are laid out on the kitchen table.
6:25 a.m.
We begin our ‘recon’ of the territory using the fresh snowfall to our advantage, a map and GPS also at the ready. If there are any deer around, we should know right away.
6:45 a.m.
Down the road, the clearly visible claw marks in the snow confirm the presence of Ursus Americana. Although bear attacks are rare, just knowing they’re around, sends a chill up my spine.
7:30 a.m.
We find a fresh set of coyote tracks crossing the road too, but after full hour of scouting still no sign of deer. Perhaps last winter was harder on the herd than I imagined?
8:45 a.m.
After splitting up and walking a serious of trails, we finally locate some tracks. An active “runway” intersects a logging road where several fresh doe and fawn tracks can be seen in the mud.
8:50 a.m.
My father and I locate a good perch to watch for movement – mine is a large moss covered, boulder about 40 feet across, Jim heads back up the road to do a walk-through.
9:30 a.m.
Apparently, the cigar I smoke the night before was a bad idea, as I choke back a nagging tickle. I also listened to Metallica’s Master of Puppets in my truck on the way into Kenauk, I suppose my ears will be the next to go!
9:40 a.m.
A red squirrel tears back and forth in a torrent rustling of leaves, stopping to scold me each time. You’ve never felt utter rejection until being scorned by an angry squirrel.
10 a.m.
With my raspy throat clearing up and not a squirrel in sight, a thumpity thump sound comes from up the hill. The silhouette of a deer with its nose to the ground materializes at 75-yards. It’s a buck and big one too!
10:01 a.m.
My heart rate jumps into turbo overdrive as the big mature male sneaks toward me – oblivious to everything but the fresh doe tracks he’s trailing. I quickly find him in my scope and prepare for a shot. The big boy makes the perfect turn to expose his vitals, and the bark of my trusty 30-06 Mauser echoes through the mountains.
10:15 a.m.
I kneel beside my beautiful 12-point trophy in admiration. I estimate his age to be 4.5 years with a large body, symmetrical crown and nice forked brow tines. A very nice, unexpected surprise.
11:10 a.m.
Waiting for the men to arrive, I pull a drink from fanny pack to celebrate. With a strict no-alcohol policy in place during hunting hours, a large can of Cheetah Power Surge gives me a much-needed dose of rejuvenation.
1:35 p.m.
After field dressing the buck and having a bite to eat, we head deeper into the wilderness to escape in quiet reflection.
4:30 p.m.
Darkness closes in over the Kenauk forest as we make our way back to camp. Between walking the trails, the chattering squirrels, and harvesting a truly magnificent animal, it has been one heck of fulfilling day in the life of a hunter.
(Originally published in The Ottawa SUN November 23, 2008)
