I’m sure most of you don’t have my luck, or at least hopefully not. Which is to say, if I didn’t have bad luck, I would have no luck at all.
I can’t help but recall an old friend I worked with in my game warden days who talked about his bad luck like this: He would say, “If I had a baby duck, it would drown.” So you get the idea.
I usually set out with good intentions and say I am going to document the first week or two of the deer firearms season so I can better report it all to you out there. Maybe I am doing better, but I am not sure; in the busyness of the season, it seems to get away from you somehow. So herewith are some notes and observations of the first week.
Now when I say the first week, I also mean the days preceding the first week of this all-important season. At the not-so-famous Turkey Track Lodge where I hang out, we like to do some exploring in the wilderness under the guise of “scouting.” We are, in fact, looking for deer and deer sign, but I still just like to see what lies over the next ridge.
In the great state of West Virginia, where we are hunting this week, the first day of buck season happens on the Monday before Thanksgiving. This year my partner in crime, Bill, and I arrived at camp on the Wednesday preceding opening day, figuring we will have a few days to explore, scout and get a handle on the deer situation.