Today was the last day of Montana's deer season and I had been too busy to think about deer all Fall, but, my wife loves venison and I love having a wife who loves venison, so with two hours left in the season I grabbed a relic from the safe, jumped the cowdog up onto the back of the feedtruck and drove into the hills. It took an hour to find a buck silhouetted against the sunset, so I parked, made a short sneak and found myself looking down at two bucks and a doe. Though they were in a tough spot to get to and it was getting dark, I looked down through the iron sights and dropped the smaller buck. One shot from a Model 94 25-35 that had not been fired in 25 years. This was the rifle I packed when my dad and I hunted together. Often it was horseback. Sometimes it was in the old '49GMC or the '64 Chevy. He always had his old .30-30 in the paper-thin leather scabbard and I had this .25-35. My wife has her venison now and I have new memories. Unfortunately, I did not take my camera, but I hope you get the picture.
