He pondered not even going this year. That he dared to think this shocked him. In the past 47 years, he had missed the visit to deer camp just once.
It was certainly not by choice, but he had a prior obligation that year in a steamy jungle in Southeast Asia. He didn’t think he would make it home alive, but he did and hadn’t missed a deer season since.
The mid-November pilgrimage to the dilapidated cabin, built by his dad and two uncles, was as much a part of his year as the Fourth of July and Christmas. It was part of him and who he was. The only way he would miss it was if he was laid out down at Kelley Brothers Funeral Home. OK, so he would go – that was settled.
But he could not lie to himself. It was not the same. His best bud, J.D., would not be making the trip with him.
Larry CaseHe glared through the windshield and gripped the old truck’s steering wheel way too tight.