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I went deer hunting this past weekend in east Texas. It was one of those corporate hunts that is supposed to be more about networking than hunting.

But one of the invited guests was the father of the Forestry Museum in east Texas, and if he wasn't 85, he sure looked it.

We had to help him with eating, getting out to his stand, even taking the safety off the gun.

He had been a regular guest of this hunt for at least 40 years, and he obviously loved it. He was a gem, far too old to be much of a threat to the deer population, but he was doing what he loved.

I'm not sure he'll be there next year, but your post certainly rang a bell with me.

Well, the thing is he will always be there.

My father, his brothers, they are with my brother and I on every hunt.
For many years we hunted in the Coopers Creek Wilderness area of Georgia, from our camp it is a hard climb over Licklog mountain to what we called Big Valley, it was inaccessable by road and we enjoyed much success there.
The climb is tough, steep and done in the dark, but when you finally reach the saddle, stop and catch your breath,
the stars are still out and just a shade of pink is showing in the east, all around the compass not a light of habitation is visible, and we have stepped back to a different time.

Now my Dad is gone, but he is still with us when we finally
stop to rest and turn and look to the east.
Some of his ashes are scattered there where we shared so many good times.

Great hunting but the drag back up over the saddle to camp with a big buck was a real test, drag 10 yards stop, 10 yards stop, 10 yards stop, a hard slog but once you cleared the top and started down it was Hang on!

My brother was a guide out west and so we camped in a outfitter style wall tent with stove etc, very cushy,
sometimes I would set up my 18' teepee so we had all the comforts of home.

How about it 'ole Timer? See anything?