COMMENTARY BY DAVE SAMUEL
My early bowhunts are filled with memories that have lasted a lifetime. My first day gun hunting for deer in Pennsylvania, in November, is as vivid to me today as it was 66 years ago. As dawn broke on a snow-covered landscape, I was hunkered down by a log in northern Pennsylvania. My dad was close by, and five minutes before legal shooting time a big 8-point buck appeared 20 yards in front of me.
I double checked my watch, and hoped he’d stay there for another five minutes. I’d heard several gun shots from other hunters, but I knew the legal shooting time, and obviously my father knew as well. The buck left, but 10 minutes later a small spike stood in the same spot. My shot was true and there would be meat in our family freezer.
That was in 1953 and getting a buck was my focus. Hundreds of deer hunting days have passed since that time. I soon switched to bowhunting full time and hundreds of adventures followed in many states, all the Canadian Provinces and the world. During the ensuing years, I came to realize that although the final goal was a harvest, learning new cultures, meeting new friends and being in fantastic places made the experience.
I remember my early days in Morgantown, driving to bowhunt in Canaan Valley. Two graduate students in mining engineering, Dave Maynard and Jimmy Hamlin, exposed me to the valley and we hunted together many times. Jimmy would later die in the 1984 Wilberg Mine Fire in Price, Utah.
There were few deer here, but many in Canaan, so with my pet collie, Dancer, I’d drive there after my Friday WVU classes, camp out and bowhunt all day Saturday. I remember storing my tent, camp stove, water and fry pan in a hollow log near the campsite. A mouse-chewed hole or two in my old tent didn’t cause a problem. But what memories I had there: Seeing my first bobcat in the wild, then there were the albino gray squirrel, ravens, lots of ruffed grous and even some good deer harvested.
Over the years, I learned a lot about deer, and realized early on that November was a special time to hunt. Yes, that’s the mating season and, for bowhunters, it opens up a myriad of things one can do to get bucks in range. And “in range” for most of us means 20 yards or less. During the rut, bucks might respond to calling. In fact, in 1978 I called deer for the first time on a bowhunt to Canaan and “grunted” in and harvested with my recurve a big 8-point buck.
I’d also learned to make scrapes, places where does visit and bucks come to find those does and also learn what other bucks are in the area. For bucks, and does, the rut is all about breeding. On some days, it gets a bit frantic with bucks chasing does. The evidence can easily be seen along our highways, as rutting deer get hit by cars.
Those November days widened into states that harbored big bucks: Ohio, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska and Kansas (my favorite). Nov. 5-11 found me again in Protection, Kan., the best big-deer country I’ve ever seen. The memories keep piling up there, but aging is taking its toll on this old hunter. Yes, I still use my bow, and yes, it is getting harder to go, but the challenge, and the fantastic morning sunrises and, yes, the occasional big deer, keeps me going. My hunter readers can relate and others may not. But since that first deer at age 13, the harvest goal has dwindled, replaced by the experience and the adventure. I love November.
