This is my brother Randy and his grandson Seth. Randy is an extrovert who loves crowds and people. He’s been a county commissioner here in Monroe, doesn’t mind speaking in public, and is generally a very outgoing guy. But come November a sort of metamorphosis comes over him, as he heads to his little camp in the Upper Peninsula.

His place is a throwback to the old time hunting camps of the 20’s and 30’s with a genuine floor board rotted outhouse, or path bath if you prefer. The one room camp has wood heat, one set of bunk beds, pull out couch, and no storage. On more than one occasion he has spent days on end, all alone, in his little hide-a-way. You have to pipe sunlight back to his place, but what a little jewel of a peaceful spot it is! There’s a small creek running along side it, that lulls you to sleep at night with it’s magical gurgling sounds. An old apple tree sits in the front yard that has been attacked by marauding bears over the years. Between claw marks and broken limbs, it’s about ready to give up the ghost.

The camp is located around Marquette Michigan (snow belt) and sits in the bottom of a draw. Randy’s 40 acres butts up to state land, so he can roam till his hearts content. Usually he’ll have one, or more, of his three sons with him for the deer (rifle) opener. This year his second son Justin, and Justin’s son Seth were able to make camp for a few days.

One morning Seth decided to sit with grandpa in his double seater tree stand. Randy was watching a good scrape line along a row of planted pines, when Seth saw a buck approaching from Randy’s right. He alerted grandpa to the deer, and Randy tried to swing on him, but couldn’t, due to the angle. Randy is a former Marine, with two tours of duty in Viet-Nam, and earned top honors (expert) as a marksman. With just his right arm supporting his Remington model 742, he swung, held, and fired. The deer dropped in the scrape he was checking out! It was a nice 6-pointer, as you can see, but has no brow tines. It should of been an eight (yeh that’s what they all say!) but it’s a nice deer just the same. What makes it all the more special, is that Randy got to share the excitement with his grandson and son. It don’t get much better than that; even for a deer season “hermit!”

Mike

This nice 8-pointer above my fireplace wants to wish you a Merry Christmas.  It would of been nice if one of his relatives would of cooperated with me this year, but hey, at least we got some good tracking snow on the ground now.

My 4 year old granddaughter (Ava Taylor) likes to take pictures with my Kodak digital camera.  She always says “can I take just one picture Papa?”  Of course I say “ok” and off she goes taking as many pictures as she can get away with!  Actually she’s gotten pretty good at it.  She took this one, and also several of our Christmas tree, that were framed perfectly.  She seems to have an eye for photography, and I will encourage her any chance I get.  If you look very closely, in this picture, you will see a huge buck, on the t.v. screen, at the bottom right corner.  I was watching Versus at the time.  If you can’t get out and chase deer around  yourself, at least you can enjoy someone else’s success.

My computer is acting up, probably due to the big snow storm we’re getting slammed with.  Actually there getting freezing rain just south of us, which will certainly bring some headaches with it.  I better post this while I can.

Mike

Your first deer is always special, especially in my case.  I hunted, with a bow, for over ten years without putting anything in the freezer.  It wasn’t that I was a bad shot, as I took my share of trophies at local archery shoots.  The problem was “buck fever!”  If the target was made of Styrofoam or paper, no problem, but as soon as a living breathing one appeared, my knees quaked and my hands wouldn’t hold still.  You’d think I would of taken the hint, and given up at some time, during those “deerless years!”

I got my friend Bob Baltrip and my brother Darryl started into archery and hunting, and guess what?  They both killed deer years before I brought down the doe in the picture.  Now that was pretty humiliating, but my hunting heritage would not let me walk away.  Even this big dry doe played a part in breaking the jinx of “Old no shooting Mike!” (A name tag from my dad)  I was hunting our old stomping grounds in Lewiston Michigan when this doe presented me with a shot.  She caught me in mid-draw, and proceeded to do the head down head up thing, trashing my confidence!  I finally was able to come to full draw, but she knew I wasn’t a porcupine sitting in that tree, and she was nervous.  As I let the arrow go she ducked, or “jumped the string,” as we archers say, but low and behold she ducked just right!  The arrow caught her in the spine, and down she went.  I fumbled for another arrow, drooping one, before I got one on the string again.  The second arrow was a heart shot, and the “monkey” was off my back.

I was by myself on this hunt, and had to drag the deer to my truck by myself, but it was the most satisfying drag of my life.  I was elated!  I could now proudly wear my Fred Bear Sportsman’s Club patch, as an offical big game hunter.  Why I could even tell stories, with the rest of the guy’s, about my prowess as a deer slaying machine.  You would not believe what that first deer did to boast my confidence in the field.  Not to say I never missed again, but the pressure I put on myself was gone, and I could truly enjoy myself weather I filled my tag or not.

I’m glad I stuck it out, as the hunting fraternity is a great group of guys and gals.  Sure there are slob hunters out there, but they are not the norm.  The people I have had the privilege to blog with are an example of honesty and integrity when it comes to hunting.  Even though this year has been one of those “empty freezer” years; I have been the recipient of some fond memories.  I guess the moral of this story is “don’t give up.”  You may be on the brink of a life changing breakthrough!

Mike

Talk about pictures from the past. That’s me in the middle and my army buddies Alroy Strand (L) and Roger Heesch.(R) We served in the 16th. Engineer Battalion stationed at Fort Hood Texas. Alroy was from Minnesota and we both like to hunt and fish. He told me stories about Rainy River and Lake of the Woods where he would catch huge walleye and pike. We kind of lost track of one another just before we were discharged, but wrote a couple letters to one another once we got settled back into civilian life.

Alroy soon moved his family to Alaska, where he could hunt and fish till his hearts desire. He sent me pictures of caribou and moose he had shot, and also one of an orphaned moose he was hand feeding. Well; back in the early 70’s Alaska had a major earthquake, and all my letters kept coming back saying “no such address!.” I figured Alroy would write, and let me know everything was ok, but from that point on we lost contact with one another.

Recently he has been on my mind, and I did a search on Anywho.com for an Alroy Strand in Alaska. Nothing came up, but a Mike and Jeri Ann Strand came up in Anchorage. It listed Mike as being 35 years old, and that made him eligible for being Alroy’s son. I called the phone number listed, and had a nice talk with Jeri Ann as she explained she was indeed Alroy’s daughter-in-law, and Mike was his son. She informed me that Alroy was alive and kicking, but may have moved back to Minnesota. I got his 86 year old mothers phone number, and through her was able to confirm Alroy’s where-a-bouts and phone number. He wasn’t home, so I left him a message to give me a call.

I received that call this evening. Much water has flowed over the dam since we talked to one another, as 21 year old army draftees. We are now semi old farts with the major portion of our lives behind us. Alroy has hunted and fished Alaska for 40 odd years, and spent the last 18 years working on the oil fields at Prudhoe Bay. He was a heavy equipment operator with a crew of 18 men working under him. I told him my dream hunt would of been an Alaskan grizzly hunt, and he said he could of taken me on the hunt of my life, if he would of known! Talk about being a day late and a dollar short!

Alroy still has a place in Alaska, and owns a couple places in Minnesota, where he now lives right on Rainy River. He still hunts and fishes, and has a pheasant hunt coming up in North Dakota soon. We promised to keep in touch with one another, and Lord willing are going to try and see one another before one of us croaks. Sounds like he’s in real good health, so I better start hitting the gym or cut back on the cookies! It was sure nice hearing his voice after all these years. Who knows maybe we can resume a long lost friendship and get a “hunt” in before we “fade away!”

Mike

As you can see I’m the offical turkey carver in our family.  We held Thanksgiving over at my oldest daughter Tara’s place.  They have enough room to accommodate the clan that was present.  There were only 18 of us this year, as my son and his fiancee were sick, and my daughter Meghan, her husband, and son, were in Chicago entertaining Marks parents.  Also my mother was spending time with one of my brothers and his family this year.  Mother says she has to spread herself around or one of her six sons is libel to get jealous.

We had a great meal. with everyone making their specialty for the day.  We had turkey, green rice, mashed potatoes, potato casserole, green bean casserole, cranberry/fruit jello, rolls, salad, sweet potato casserole, and home made pumpkin pie and whipped cream!  It was delicious, but Poppa don’t get any leftovers when its at one of the daughters houses.  I like it just as much the next day, as the firs; almost.

I had all my granddaughters there with McKenzie, Nadia, (at my feet) Nina, Addisyn, Ava, and my wife Lorna all squeezing on the couch.  They range in age from 2-1/2 to 12 years old.  With having 5 daughters my own self, I’m kind of partial to those little sweethearts.  One of these days I’ll get a good photo of my five grandsons, if I can get em to hold still long enough!

“Now there is only one of my hunting buddies who hasn’t shot a deer yet this year; me!  Tony (my son in law) shot this 6-pointer Wednesday evening, but was having some problems tracking it, so he came home to wait for the morning sunshine.  I met him at 6:00 a.m. and we headed over to our hunting spot.  He had left his hunting hat at the last blood he could find, as he put in a sleepless night, second guessing himself.

The buck had been lured into range by a doe decoy, and Tony thought his aim had been true.  There’s about 8 acres of tall grassy cover that the deer was running through the last Tony saw it.  We arrived, just after sun-up, and had a little snow and lots of frost on the ground and bushes.

Tony walked me through the whole scenario, as we approached his hat marker.  The blood trail was high in the grass, and I was concerned that the hit was a little off target.  It was bright red blood though, and I told Tony that he probably got the liver, and that the deer was dead, we just had to find it.  We started having trouble picking up the blood trail as the deer was zigging and zagging through the thick bedding area.  I put Tony on the trail, as I walked ahead trying to locate his deer.  About 150 yards away from the point of impact lay the fat stone dead 6-pointer.  The exit wound was far back, but the entrance wound looked like it was right on.  We celebrated for awhile, and thanked the Lord for His provision, on Thanksgiving day no less.

When Tony dressed the deer he handed me the heart, and said “look at this.”  The top of the heart had a huge slug made hole in it.  That explains the blood being so high on the grass, but how do you run 150 yards in that condition.  Deer never cease to amaze me with there tenacity to survive!  Tony’s Remington deerslayer did it again.  This 12 gauge shotgun can really shoot some tight groups at 100 yards.  Well there is now a distinct possibility that I will end up with a few packages of venison in my freezer after all.

Today I visited my grandkids daycare run by our friend Mary Boudrie. My granddaughter Ava is wearing pink and kneeling right in front of me. Her sister Addison is the furthest on the right wearing green and pink, and Kyle is right in front of Ava wearing blue and orange.

We had a great time at Ms. Mary’s with all the kids being really excited about Thanksgiving tomorrow. I laid the pelts down on the floor and then let the kids handle them. They picked the beaver as the softest pelt, and as usual, the wolf was the main attraction. I showed them what the Pilgrims had to trade for the furs, beads, hatched heads, knives, blankets, small bells and such. I have made replicas of rattles, jewelry, pipes, quivers, arrows, lances, and tomahawks which the kids always like hearing about. Before I’m finished I read them the story about the first Thanksgiving in order to get their “focus” back on the really important part of my visit.

We all have so much to be truly thankful for in this “land of the free and the home of the brave!” Hope you all are blessed and get to spend some wonderful family time with your loved ones. Happy Thanksgiving.