I wanted to have the best deer camp ever. EHD had hit Southwestern Michigan pretty hard this year so as the small buck appeared shortly after daylight he immediately garnered my attention. Having fresh camp meat to butcher, cook, and eat is an important aspect of camp life and since I wanted to leave the does alone this year, a young buck would suffice. At about 75 yards, had he opted to continue East and disappear in the brushy creek bottom, he would have gotten a free pass. He chose poorly by turning to the South, closing the distance to around 50 yards. The crosshairs were steady and he dropped in his tracks. We were on the board!

After getting the deer back to the cabin, lunch, and a quick nap I opted to give my brother a shot from the stand that we felt would give him a chance at his first Michigan whitetail. After dropping him and my dad off at the South gate I continued North in the truck. Shortly after starting towards my stand, a gun shot rang out. Assuming the pair had spooked something to the neighbors property I continued my hike. Having forgot my cell phone, I was isolated in the blind until the lights went out for the day. After dark, arriving at the pick up spot, my dad was already by the road. Immediately he let me know that my brother was still in the field tending to a pretty nice buck. Turns out the shot I heard wasn’t the neighbors, it came from my brother. He had barely gotten to the blind before the thick 8 pointer entered the field and gave him a 60 yard shot. Two sits, two bucks down.

*My brothers first Michigan buck turned out to be a dandy. Taken from the same blind I killed mine out of that morning, this one came out early in the afternoon just as Travis had arrived at the blind.*

Back at the cabin, dad whipped up three plates of beef manahattan to satisfy even the hungriest of hunters. Wanting to get the deer hung to finish cooling and keep away from any possible scavengers, Travis and I set out to come up with a makeshift buck pole. Thankfully only he and I fully know the struggles we had that night. Killing and recovering the two deer turned out to be the easy part. In the dark of the night we couldn’t find one tree with a branch we could toss a rope over large enough to support a deer. Oh we tried several branches that were marginal and watched as the weight of the deer would bend the branch to the point the rope (and deer) would slide off the end. It was an exercise in futility. On one occasion out dad came out and asked “What the hell are you two doing?”. On a subsequent trip he inquired “Are you two still hanging those deer?”, as if we’d be doing anything else out there in the middle of the night. Branches from saplings were constantly smacking us in the face causing me to momentarily consider I had just lost an eye. We would think we had one hung and then realize we had miscalculated on the length of rope and would have to let it back down. It was a humbling display of woodsmanship to say the least.

*It may not look like much of an accomplishment, but getting these two fine deer hung for the night was quite a combined effort by my brother and I.*

Having had such great success on day one and a later than expected night hanging deer, we opted to sleep in on day two. This would allow the three of us to spend a portion of the morning drinking coffee, conversing, and watching College Gameday. The later part of the morning we spent skinning and quartering my deer followed by a pot of venison chili. We would tackle Travis’s buck after lunch, periodically checking on football scores. This day was what all the preparation and planning throughout the year was for. A day to spend together with my brother and dad celebrating Fall, deer season, football season, and life as a whole. We had nowhere else we had to or wanted to be. We ate well, laughed a lot, looked back at good times, talked about future adventures, and appreciated what we had at that moment…each other.

*Taking day two off from the woods, time was spent tending to the winter’s supply of meat. Dad was sure to supervise all activities and offer ample unsolicited advice!*

In an effort not to break tradition, we decided for an early supper and headed to our favorite restaurant in town. A familiar bartender greeted us and football was on the TV when we bellied up. My brother ordered a raspberry chocolate porter while I opted for the relatable Deer Camp Lager. Dad kept it real with a domestic light but both he and Travis went all in on a cup of French onion soup to start the meal off. A nice lady passed by taking note of a father and two sons absolutely reeling with excitement. Stopping, she offered to take our picture, which we were happy to accept and put on our best smiles. In short order, my olive burger and homemade potato chips arrived and things momentarily quieted down. However, Travis was determined to have a camp fire so once we finished eating it was back to the cabin for a bout with pyromania. The log cabin structure that he built could have surely supported life of some form. It was definitely the most elaborate and sizeable start to a fire I’ve seen since my college bonfire at homecoming (a long time ago). As a salute to our modest skills of survival, it didn’t start. Persistence paid off and it wasn’t long before we had a fire worthy of a deer camp. It was nice to have for ambiance as well as a little warmth as I grilled jalapeno poppers later that evening. So far we were checking all the boxes for a perfect hunting trip but, there was one more thing left.

Venturing onto the local scene, a trio of handsome hunters enjoy a great meal at our favorite restaurant in town. As I age, the hunt seems less and less about the hunt and more about the people and experiences.

In the 6 years I’ve had the camp, dad was yet to kill a deer. Now this didn’t bother him so much, he was just happy to be spending time with his sons. In the back of all our minds though, if he was able to complete the trifecta, it would solidify this as a trip for the ages. Attempting to stack the deck in our favor we decided to stay with the hot hand. Having already killed two bucks from the same blind why not go for a third? We’d taken the previous day off from hunting so the thought was that the property had a little time to cool down. The only concern was that the blind was a little bit of a haul in. Dad has had both hips replaced and suffers from severe arthritis so generally he sits the closest stand. This year he’d talked with the doc and was on some different medication allowing him some more mobility and borrowed some trekking poles which greatly improved his stability moving through the field. With all that, dad and Travis would head to the lucky blind on the third morning of our trip.

*The successful team exits the lucky blind late in the morning of the third day. Luckily there would not be any tracking required to secure Dad’s trophy.*

Just before they crossed the gate in the morning darkness my brother looked at me and said this was going to be “epic”. I’d like to say he had no idea how right he was, but I think we both knew he wasn’t far from the eventual truth. Sitting with their blind in sight, it was a slow morning hoping for one more deer to make a mistake. Just as my attention was starting to wane, through the binoculars, something in the corner of the field appeared. Confirming it was a deer, only 40 yards from my dad, a text was sent to Travis to make sure he’d noticed the deer. To my pleasure, actions were already set in motion.

Here you’ll get two takes on the event, mine and a compilation from the two in the blind nearest the deer…Watching the deer it was relaxed and unaware of the nearby danger as it scratched at it’s rump. Expecting a shot to ring out at any second my emotions were building at a rapid pace. I waited, and waited, and waited until for no visible reason the deer bounded 60 yards before stopping again. Peering at the blind, the window facing the deer appeared to still be closed. I figured movement from the blind spooked the deer and assumed the window would open any second. Both time and the deer were standing still while I sat there helplessly watching. Finally, a shot rang and the deer bolted out of view. 5 -10 seconds later another shot. In my mind the first had missed but the deer had stopped just before leaving the field, hoping that the second shot got it. Thinking the action was over I awaited a confirmation text that the deer was down. Then a third shot sounded off! At this point I could only figure that the second shot had hit the deer but it made it into the thick brush along the creek edge. The third shot must have anchored the deer once it showed enough of itself to get the another bullet in it. After the fourth shot I was out of scenarios and just decided to sit back and wait to hear from the duo. Following some nervous anticipation on my part, I received the text that they had a deer down.

*Contemplating their next move, father and son discuss how best to extract the buck from the clutches of the ditch muck.*

Now for the other side of the story…Travis had been watching the deer move toward their position before it stepped into the field. Turning to my dad he informed him that there was a deer-approaching and very closely. Turns out Dad was busy checking on the college football rankings and asked his son to repeat himself. So as any good son would do, he again informed his father that there was a deer right next to the blind and asked if he planned to shoot it. At this point, the situation was realized by our dad who turned to peek at the deer. When doing so his chair squeaked and he froze in panic. The deer didn’t hear anything so my brother urged Dad that he had to get into position if he planned to shoot this deer. During this time, the confirmed buck, decided he would run to the center of the field as already noted in my description of the events.

The story gets a little convoluted at this point since neither inhabitant of the blind can remember which window the next two shots were fired out of. Regardless, Dad struggled to find the buck in the scope due to having the magnification cranked too high. Eventually, he claimed the crosshairs found the deer and, the first shot was fired. It was a confirmed miss sending the deer running to the East and as I figured stopping just before jumping into the thick creek bottom. Feeling a little better about the second shot he squeezed off another round. This time the bullet struck the deer but, rather than lurching forward to what would have been some very thick cover it turned and ran directly at the blind. Having only loaded two bullets earlier, only after being reminded by my brother, the duo could only watch as the deer closed the distance. Then as a gift from God, the buck didn’t clear the ditch and became trapped in the swampy muck. Acting as quickly as he could, two more bullets were loaded into the magazine. Jockeying back and forth the father and son switched sides since the deer was now just outside the blind, 180 degrees from the initial shots. The third shot of all things, struck a branch dead center and never arrived at its intended destination. It was the fourth and thankfully final shot that put the 110% success stamp on this year’s deer camp.

*While it may look like a simple grip and grin to some, this pic was 6 years in the making with plenty of ups and downs along the way. I didn’t want this year’s deer camp to end.*

More excited now than for my own deer, I threw my stuff together and bolted towards the other two party members. The emotions watching them climbing down and meandering over to the buck cannot be described on these pages. The smile on my brothers’ face, as I walked up and then the giant hug I gave my dad were truly the capstone of this trip.

Travis blew out of camp later that afternoon to return to his family while Dad and I rounded out the day watching the Bears game and grilling bacon-wrapped inner loins. There were a few apples left on some nearby trees so being resourceful we paired the fresh meat with some stewed apples to tie the experience all together. Camp surpassed any, and all expectations and will not soon be bettered. The events, moments, family, and nature experienced were truly gifts that will not be taken for granted, rather, continually sought after, attempting to duplicate. In turn, new memories will be created and shared for generations to come.

Deer Camp 24’

Wing Men