“Before you know it, the OPENER will be upon us with new stories starting to develop. As we say a little prayer for safety and a successful harvest, we will each enter the woods and new stories will begin. How they will end and what will be the context in between be hasn’t been written yet… just like everything in our lives. Until it happens, you don’t know what it will be.” These were the words towards the end of last week’s column and deadline is looming near so… here goes. As planned, the “Elder Statesmen” of our hunting crew (Terry Fuchs, Scott Fuchs, Steve Banazewski and me) met at Terry’s house packed and ready to head up Highway 169 to Steve and Shannon’s (Steve’s much better half) cabin. As predicted, there were a couple stops along the way to pick up some essentials. We scoped out Fleet Farm and picked up a few gadgets and plenty of “snackies.” A stop at Milaca Unclaimed Freight to see if there was anything we couldn’t live without and another for beverages and gas were all we needed. With the weather being unseasonably warm, our first task at the cabin was to build a “makeshift” cooler to keep any game we may get as cool as possible. Tarps, old doors, a chunk of Styrofoam insulation and even two “floaties” used for relaxation in the lake created a space that would make the guys from The History Channel’s “Mountain Men” smile. We used the tools afforded to us by the situation and inevitably, our creator. Scott said it best… “Good God,” he exclaimed as he looked at our “cooler” and laughed. I am sure he was acknowledging the presence of God in our work. After proving our top-notch engineering and construction skills, Steve took to the grill and cooked up what might just be eight of the best tasting bratwursts ever made. We made quick work of the sausage which were washed down by a couple cold ones. We shared in some witty conversation, discussed strategies for the next day, told a few jokes and awaited the arrival of the “kids” to camp. Tyler and Nick Fuchs (Terry’s boys) would arrive later as Tyler had to work and Ryan (Steve’s son) was bowhunting in the area and would be at the cabin once the sun went down. Relaxed is the best word to describe things with dinner consisting of some phenomenal pork chops, cheesy potatoes and coleslaw which kept us all fat and sassy. After watching some TV and finalizing strategies, it was time for bed. Everything went to plan from waking up, having breakfast and getting to the hunting land that is just shy of an hour away from the cabin. We got settled into our stands and our anticipation increased as daybreak loomed closer and closer. “When is that first shot going to ring out,” I wondered? “What was that crunching noise I just heard… was it a deer?” So many thoughts bouncing around in my mind when I hear a slight popping noise come from my knee. “Wow, getting up into a tree stand sure was easier at 33 than it is at 53.” That may have been the revelation of the day. The next popping noise I heard was a volley of shots across the way. “Game on,” I said to myself. By the end of the day, five of the seven in our group saw deer. Scott was in the “honey hole” and could have easily filled all seven tags. As it was, he filled two thinking he had missed his first attempt later to realize he did not. Steve and Tyler also were in very active areas. Nick had five pass his stand but felt they were all too young and let them pass. Ryan had some action as well. Terry and I saw coyotes… Coyotes are one reason Terry and I didn’t see deer. Terry made an astute observation that could also explain why the deer kept their distance from us. Our stands flank each other, me to his right and him to my left. We each also have parties on adjoining land to our other side. Increased human presence and activity coupled with coyotes works against us. I think that the deer know Terry and I are excellent shots and stayed away… that is my theory. Either way, after opening weekend, we had five deer out of seven hunters, but we have SO MUCH MORE than that. Successful hunts create additional “work” such as field dressing and dragging the game to the truck. I won’t get into graphic detail but, I was quite impressed with one of the gadgets procured at Fleet Farm. The tool is called a “Butt Out” and it seemed to be efficient within its application during the process. Dragging can be a real drag depending on where the deer expire. Terry and his lovely bride Dana (they own the land) purchased a four-wheeler this summer which simplified the task immensely. We were joined for the drag by Terry and Scott’s nephew John Murphy, who owns an adjoining 40 acres. “Johnny” hunts his land with his nephew Alex Westland and, had his two boys Tristan (12) and Dylan (11) in tow. As the “Elder Statesmen” of years past indoctrinated us to the various traditions of deer hunting, we did the same for Tristan and Dylan. They will have a story that will last forever that starts, “do you remember when Uncle Scott…” and we will leave it right there. Once the deer were out of the woods and loaded into the trucks, it was time to head into Finlayson to register them and head over to Crazy Mary’s for lunch. This is where I began to realize how much we truly had. As we sat at Crazy Mary’s (social distancing and all), the laughter and conversations were awesome. Sure, some were sharing their concerns about the/their future because any and all change does that to people and, there are certainly enough things in our world to create frustration, but we were all listening to each other and respecting our friends views, even if we didn’t fully agree with them. After we finished eating, Scott, Steve, Tyler and Ryan went back to the cabin with the deer. They cleaned them as necessary, hung them in our not so professionally engineered cooling room and removed the hides to do their best to ensure the meat would not rot. Terry, Nick and I returned to the woods for the afternoon sit with hopes that the two additional tags would be filled. I sat in the honey hole and quickly, began to realize something just was not right. I was hearing laughter and music clear as a bell. There were people in another adjoining property with a tent up having a party. “This isn’t going to help me get a deer,” I said to myself. Then I noticed the flicker of a campfire as well… strike two. We noticed that these folks enjoying the great outdoors in their own way were NOT wearing a stitch of blaze orange which, on deer opener, to be off galivanting in the woods is about the least intelligent thing one could do. My frustration level switched to overload. Then, I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. Mind began to race around again like a NASCAR time trial. “To have friends to share in an activity you all enjoy is a blessing,” I thought. “How fortunate am I to have friends are willing to provide shelter (Thanks, Steve and Shannon) and land to hunt (Thanks, Terry and Dana): So fortunate!!” To be able to make memories with each and everyone of the people I spent time with during the deer opener… that is what I have. That is what we all have. We all have people, place and things in our lives that bless us in so many ways. Sometimes we may need to look a bit harder but, they are there. Being outdoors can help bring us to a higher level of peace. Get Out and Enjoy the Great Outdoors.