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So I put the asphalt plant away Thursday morning at noon, drive 4 hours home, pack my bags and my guns, give the bride a kiss on the cheek and off to the deer camp where half the guys have been swizzling Forty Creek already waiting for the Saturday opener when I walk in, at least the camp was already nice and warm.

Did some running around Friday getting thing that we forgot like peanuts in the shells and lamp oil and propane light mantles, etc, the usual. Spent the afternoon back at the stand, cleaning it up and kicking a foot of old leaves out, check the trail cams, etc. Finally Saturday arrives and I'm in my stand bright and early (couldn't see my hand in front of my face). All I see opening day and Sunday are the odd does getting pushed around by hunters but I wasn't in for one of them even though we had 4 doe tags in the gang. Monday morning rolls around an I wake up to a foot and a half of snow on the ground, just great! I ride my quad back to the back of my lot and follow the neighbors in, didn't even stop to chat because I wanted to beat them into the bush in case they kicked something up, well, I spent the first 20 minutes staring into his lot but nothing moving. I lean back in my chair and reach for my smokes and realise I brought a pack with only 1 cigarette in it, great, this is gonna be a hard 5 hours in a tree. Then I glance over at my old stand which is about 50 yds away and falling apart when I see a deer underneath it. I grabbed ole faithful (my 110 in 7mm-08) and wait for the thing to walk out from behind the tree's, and he did, wasn't expecting to see a rack and when I did I got the shakes. Damn deer was staying still but the scope wasn't. Thankfully one shot and it was a double lung, he didn't go more than 75 yds and down. Cool, no pressure on this guy back at camp now. We already had a doe on the pole so the 8 pt was making things look better. Come the next day one of the guys in the camp was getting frustrated with the hardwoods and went up the mountain to hunt the apple orchard. He sure wasn't expecting a hot doe to come running past him when he noticed the fork horn on her tail. one shot from his 25-06 brought the young horny fella down, when he looked behind him he noticed his grandfather was also looking for some lovin and dropped a 13 pt buck 30 seconds later. Happy camp, we spent the next couple days just relaxing while the young fella kept hunting our tags but he never saw a thing. All in all we ended up with a doe, the fork, my 8 pt and Jamie's 13. If you've been around awhile Jamie was my bud that fell out of his stand and broke his back about 7 or 8 years ago, he's all good again and I took his buck up to the taxidermist for him yesterday. Can't wait for next year!

Monday morning view:



My 8 pt and Ole Faithful: (if you guys take a good look you can see whats known as "scope eye". First time ever for me in all my years).



Doe and the 8:



The other 2 and the game pole Wednesday morning: