Deer camp is a place for me to get away from everything. There is nothing better than driving out to camp and making an unforgettable memory every time. Like my brother always says to me, “I love it out here.”, I couldn’t agree with him more. The best part is that it’s only about five minutes from my house in Negaunee, so I can come and go whenever I please. The woods, the hunting, and the fun and sloppy drunk times I have at camp will stay with me forever.
The #1 reason I love the U.P. The vast woods. My camp is located in Negaunee Township. It’s right outside of a quiet little neighborhood known as Heartwood. The forest in the area is what tickles my fancy the most. If something is ever bothering me, I know I can go out to camp and take a long walk. You don’t realize how beautiful the world is until you really think hard about it. The leaves changing colors, an animal in their natural habitat and the smell of the air in this particular environment gets me the most. The leaves are green for a while, and then just blossom into beautiful shades of yellow, red, and orange. It makes such an astonishing Kodak moment that I wish I had my own house built in the middle of the forest. Walking around in the woods and seeing squirrels, deer, owls, and even bears is astonishing! I’ve only spotted an owl once, and I was just amazed by the size of it. I was sitting in my blind and out of nowhere this creature comes soaring down to pluck a chipmunk out of the bait pile. It’s wingspan was so wide, I never knew they were that large. Looking eye to eye with it was quite intimidating, especially because it’s head was turned around 180 degrees. It almost scared the shit out of me because it was so close and I was afraid of it pecking me to death. Walking up on a deer grazing is a wonderful sight also. Most of the time I find myself and a deer just staring at each other for at least a couple minutes. During deer season though, of course, you see a deer and they’ll take off like a redlining drag racer. The smell of the woods clears out my nostrils. No smog around to get into my lungs, the atmosphere is clear around me. Air just seems so much cleaner, fresh, and crisp. It runs through my nostrils with ease, and I like it. Not only do you smell the freshness of the air, but the pine trees too. If I could bottle the smell of the woods up, I’d put that aroma in a candle and make a fortune around here. A not so good smell though, is when you gut that deer you shot and hit it’s piss bag. The smell of it’s blood is also cleansing, in a non-psycho/sicko way. The steam arises from it’s body and you can feel the heat it’s internal organs give off. Still a good feeling knowing you shot that just moments before though.
Bagging a buck is my favorite part about camp. Waking up at five in the morning to walk to your blind in the blackness of the morning sucks, but it’s worth it. The adrenaline that runs through your body when you’re spooked by the oh-so-powerful wings of a partridge ten feet away, or the sight of a deer eating corn and apples out of your bait pile, it’s a rush. I love animals and all, but killing them is a sport to me and a thrill seeker at the same time. Being able to brag to your buddies on how many birds you’ve shot, or the massive buck you took down is also a blast. I haven’t shot a bird yet this season though, so I’ve kept my mouth shut. Celebrating the kill of a buck or taking down a few birds is my second favorite part of camp.
Getting completely wasted is always a good time. It may not be fun to others, but deer camp is mostly about shooting deer and getting plowed later in the night. Now, I’m not trying to come off as an alcoholic, but it’s almost a way of life around here to us Yoopers. There’s nothing better than one of us, as in myself and my fellow hunters at camp, shooting a buck and celebrating the kill. At my camp, it also leads to heading to McFarland for a night of Big Bon’s. Drinking with my father is also a great time. Seeing him down a 12-pack with ease and myself getting dizzy after about six or eight makes me chuckle because he’s been drinking for god knows how long, and I can only swallow a fraction of what he can. I can’t keep up with my old man; his tolerance is far beyond mine. The next morning is always rough. I usually don’t wake up for the morning hunt, which hurts me in the long run for that burning desire to take down a buck. For all I know it could be mowing down on free food while I’m in the camp sleeping off the night before. Deer season is long enough to get more than one chance, and I’m okay with that.
In the end, I could live at deer camp. Hook me up with a TV and cable and I could probably do it. The reason I am still living here is camp all together. The woods, the hunting, but not so much getting belligerently drunk; that’s just a treat on the side. If it wasn’t for the offerings the U.P. gives me in being able to hunt and go out in the woods, I wouldn’t be here anymore. I’d be enlisted in the military without a doubt, I still might enlist, we’ll see. It’s that I don’t want to leave this place; I love it too much. I’d rather live here the rest of my life and raise a family rather than living in a big city. What’s keeping me in this little town is the life I live, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.