Bizarro Week: I Hate Deer Hunting

Blasphemy, I know. I grew up in Northern Michigan and spent every fall wing shooting, and deer hunting with my dad. I always looked forward to bird hunting because it was fun to walk around the woods while BSing with my dad, and watching our old Springer Spaniel “Springer” work.

After small game season ended, firearm deer season always started on November 15th. I always put on a good face for deer hunting, but I really only did it so I would have a story about the big buck that got away with the guys at school.

Deer hunting required getting up really early, driving into the woods, and sitting perfectly still and silent in the freezing cold until lunch time. I usually fell asleep after an hour or so.

Lunch time was probably my favorite part of deer hunting, it seemed that just about every year we would bump into my uncle and his dad and we would have lunch with them and talk for a while.

Then it was back to the blind to sit perfectly silent in the freezing cold until sundown.

Did I mention that I had my first and only negligent discharge while deer hunting? Yep. Not a fan.