The Deerless Hunter
By Charles P. Eberson
Senior Moments
A Senior’s Observations, Opinions and Rantings
Those of you who read my column may remember I last wrote The Reluctant Hunter in the Early December 2018 issue about my upcoming deer hunting experience. Briefly, I committed to accompanying my brother-in-law, Jerry on my first hunt and as an animal lover, I was facing it with trepidation. I wasn’t sure if I would be able to close the deal as it were, if given the opportunity. We were in upstate Pennsylvania and were greeted in the early morning with low temps and light snow. We bundled up and drove to a recently harvested corn field and started walking across it to a dense tree line off in the distance. The ground was rutted from heavy farm machinery and frozen with the remnants of corn stalks sticking six inches out of the ground making for a very challenging walk. For the avid and experienced hunters, I ask that you reserve judgment on me. As a newbie, I was doing my best to give a good account of myself. Jerry told me we were going to do some walking. I figured since I was going to the gym somewhat regularly and working out on the elliptical that I was going to be just fine. We met up with a half a dozen other guys who looked like ZZTOP band members decked out in their orange hunting apparel. We were going to “drive the woods” i.e. flush out any deer that may have hunkered down. These guys walked me up and down hills until I could hardly pick my feet up and at one point a stout corn stalk sent me tumbling to ground. They pressed on like mountain goats and I doubt any of them have even seen an elliptical. The next morning, Jerry and I spent two hours up a tree in a deer blind to no avail. We again met up with our ZZTOP brethren and I was one of the designated “sitters” since I was “walking impaired” at this point. So they dropped me off on the edge of the woods and told me to find a spot and watch for any deer that would be driven towards me. I sat on a tree stump in those woods with the rifle cradled in my arms waiting for a deer to come into my sight. It was eerily quiet, a light snow was falling and I was sitting there alone with my thoughts feeling how strangely peaceful this hunting can be. Although after a while, I was wondering if they forgot about me. How long was this tour of duty; two hours, four hours, until dark? Do they know where I am? Finally, I heard a horn beep and knew they had come back for me. No one had even seen a deer let alone taken a shot at one. The next day was more of the same. I was positioned on the top of a hill on the edge of corn field and told to be ready if anything came my way. Again, not even a deer sighting. Far from being an expert tracker, the signs were difficult to miss. I walked through areas that look like a deer stampede ran through there. There was evidence all around; large areas were matted down with fur lying about. It was like standing on I-95 and not seeing any cars. Jerry and I finished the day back in a deer blind until it got so dark, the only way we would find a deer was if it bumped into us. So went my first hunting trip and I can say with certainly that it did have a profound impact on me; the solitude and yet the camaraderie; the stalk and the unity of purpose. It was an activity that has gone on since the beginning of mankind and if asked what I would do if I was fortunate enough to have a deer present itself, I think I have found the answer.
Charles Eberson has been in the newspaper business for over25 years. He has worked as a writer,advertising executive, circulation manager and photographer. His photographycan be viewed at charles-eberson.fineartamerica.com
