Deer season started Wednesday, November 13 here in New Hampshire. Saturday, November 16, was the first day I had to go hunting. Talk about miserable! We had snow, rain, wind, and cold. My rifle grew icicles by the time I got out of the woods. Not to mention the ice patches on my shoulders and legs. And to top it all off, no sightings of the elusive North Country buck that supposedly exsists in that area!
And as I sat next to the fire, thawing my frozen fingers, it dawned on me how much fun I had been having! What else could I possibly think? The weather was awful, Bambi was a no-show, but there were so many other critters out I didn't really miss the deer. Why do all of the non-hunters think we only like to kill things? That's not the whole point of the activity.
And as I sat next to the fire, thawing my frozen fingers, it dawned on me how much fun I had been having! What else could I possibly think? The weather was awful, Bambi was a no-show, but there were so many other critters out I didn't really miss the deer. Why do all of the non-hunters think we only like to kill things? That's not the whole point of the activity.