As the 2006 fall deer season rapidly approached in Missouri, I was often asked by friends and co-workers if I was planning on going hunting this year to which my usual response was, "No, I’m more of a turkey hunter!"
However, as opening morning got closer and closer I started feeling that old familiar "Call of the Wild" that most hunters experience when the weather gets colder and the leaves start turning. I decided that maybe this year I should go deer hunting. But, the more I thought about it, I realized it wasn’t so much the hunt that I longed for as it was the friendship and camaraderie of the deer camp that I missed from my youth. I remember each November our yard evolving into a small city of campers, tents and vans with our basement being full of even more excited and jubilant hunters each buzzing with expectation for the upcoming season. There’s just something special about standing around a blazing campfire with your buddies telling tall tales of the days hunt while watching the bottles melt in the glowing embers.
All of this fond reminiscing got me to thinking, so I called my friend Will to see if he was once again ready to shed the shackles of the city rat race and head to the country for a good ole fashioned mountain man weekend to which he was more than willing. My wife, who is very understanding realized I need some male bonding time and even though she had a "honey-do" list the size of the Dead Sea scrolls, helped me pack. So, I loaded up the Explorer, kissed my wife and Will and I set out on the road for Bear Creek Valley.
On the road to Mom’s farm we passed many deer camps, which began increasing in frequency as we turned off the main interstate and headed out on the secondary highways and byways toward Bear Creek. They say that "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" and this was never more obvious than the overwhelming dichotomy that is the hunting camp. Some folks are hunting purists and live for the hunt, leaving camp long before sun up and not coming back into camp until they can no longer see. Some are all about the camp, choosing to put more effort into the overall hunting experience utilizing toys, food and fun with the actual hunt being a secondary thought. This disparity in philosophies were obvious, for we noticed camps ranging in everything from tents and igloo coolers to elaborate set ups with campers and fifth wheels.
Since neither Will or I either one were much of a deer hunter, I decided to utilize my newfound relationship with Permission To Hunt’s Ultimate Outdoors Magazine and visit some of the nearby deer camps that populated the valley near my Mom’s farm. I figured if I introduced myself as a humor columnist with an outdoor magazine there would be no deer camp around that would not welcome us with open arms, and I was right!
One particular camp we visited was especially friendly and invited us in to have a beer and chat. They introduced themselves as father/son Wally and Walt Hammond along with friends Tracy Young and Dan LaBoube from Lee’s Summit, Missouri. They had set up, in this humble reporters estimation, nearly the perfect deer camp. They had recently bought about 100 acres from my Aunt which was situated on a corner field that ran parallel to Bear Creek. In my youth I remember this field as being a hotbed of whitetail deer action. I recall many nights driving by that corner field and pulling into the gate so my head lights would shine across the field and seeing countless glowing eyes looking up at me, so I knew they were in the right location.
They had set up a mobile home along a fence row as home base and set out to include every hunting toy any guy could possibly dream of. They had ATV’s, a huge fire pit, even and old WW2 Willies Jeep in mint condition for the occasional creek valley road expedition.
They admitted the camp wasn’t quite finished yet as they did have electricity but no running water, but in the interim they had erected an outhouse complete with a crescent moon cut into the door. As we talked to these guys I realized they were living the dream…good friends, good hunting and good times were the plan of the day! A successful deer camp it was too, for this was only the first day and they already had two deer hanging with one being a good sized eight point buck.
For a moment or two my friend and I just sat there looking at each other. Then we looked back at the dish and then back at each other again in stunned silence. Then, as if someone had flipped on a light switch, we started laughing uncontrollably. Not because having such a high tech gadget like a satellite dish at a remote rustic location was silly, no just the opposite. It was brilliant! Think about it, these guys are willing to get up in the middle of the night to sit in a cold hard wooden smelly outhouse not to mention the fact that they are trucking in all of their drinking water. But all of this, however, is trivial compared to the fact that they have our beloved Kansas City Chiefs in all their brilliant, full color, slobber-knocking, high-scoring, digital glory every Sunday afternoon.
After all, a guy has to have his priorities…right?
