Having the old farts leave is not such a bad thing. Yeah, the culture of deer camp changes, but nothing stays forever. We've got the same thing down here. All the old farts are dying off. In the end, that can mean more deer, or more precisely, a faster bounce back to what it was.
Really!
Look maybe I've said that wrong. Let me make another stab at it. My apologies. I'm working with just one eye today instead of the usual complement.
Yes, it's a bummer when the old farts leave. Camps die off because of it. However, it is after all inevitable. I'm the patriarch of my camp. I've done everything to make sure it survives me, but I can't predict the future. On the other hand, a reduction in the overall number of camps and of hunters reduces the number of deer being taken. That will bring back the numbers quicker.
As to the loss of the camps and the old guys in them, I'm a bit bitter about this subject. I started my own camp as soon as I could because I had come of age with 5 wonderful guys who helped me get into shooting and hunting and they're all dead but one, and he hasn't hunted with me since 1985. Bitter? Yes, and jaded too. I've seen a lot of camps go down the tubes over the years and folks whine about it, but they let them go nonetheless. The camp next to me died off three years ago. The patriarch came to me long before complaining that he was getting tired of doing all the maintenance himself. He later had a bad heart attack and was laid up for a long while, but when he got back on his feet he was back out at camp. . . alone.
My point is this: Guys like him, guys like me, guys who start camps and make them work are not infinite resources. I started our camp at 42, I'm 60 now. It's damn hard to get anyone out to help when you need them and nobody wants to work on weekends. I don't mean to pi$$ in the collective bowl of Wheaties, but deer camps are extremely wonderful things, and when they die off, it is not by bad luck.
However, I also will tell you that deer camps are wonderful because they are so carefree for most of the folks that come. Kids show up at camp and think it's the greatest thing in the world. Guys spend their whole lives using Camp as the one place to get away. Folks seldom realize there's just one guy or a couple or maybe a few that are making it happen, and they don't realize how much they sacrifice for the camp and nobody makes provisions for the camp's continuation. Deer Camp is an ephemeral thing. Having gone through its loss and dedicating the past 18 years to making a second one happen, I can tell you. I'm sure my three sons have no freaking clue, even though I've hidden nothing from them. I realize that my deer camp is my big elaborate sand painting, a Mandela. When I go, the monks will scoop it up and throw it out. At some point, a doe will come up and crap on the sand pile and the circle will be complete.
