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23 hours ago

You've probably heard the saying, "If this old stand could talk." Well, fortunately, this one still can. I thought maybe putting a few words to this old stand might be meaningful some day. It also could be fun for others to recall some of their own days gone by: old camps, buddies, stories, and more. Someday, it will be all we have left.Around 40 years ago, I built this primitive deer stand on a lonesome pine ridge in Northern Minnesota. I was just a kid without much money or hunting experience. We didn't own an atv back in those days, so we walked everywhere we wanted to hunt. We also didn't wear fancy hunting clothes or have scopes on our rifles. I guess It was just different back then.A few days before the deer hunting season, I climbed that tall ridge with a pocket full of nails, some old scrap wood, and a hammer. I found a couple of trees that grew close enough together for me to construct my first deer stand with my limited materials in tow. I guess looking back, it was my very first deer stand.All these years later, as I sit in our home here on Rainy Lake looking at that picture, the memories remain as vivid as if it were only yesterday. It's kind of amazing how a man can recall the sights, sounds, and smells of opening day so many moons ago. I remember trusting my young life on a $2.99 bubble compass purchased from the hardware store up town. I remember drawing up deer drives on a paper plate back in that old school bus. I remember the old meat pole we hung back at camp with each of our names written above an eyebolt. I remember putting my name on the back of my Uncle Buck knife sheath.I remember being scared walking in the dark, but not wanting to tell the older guys at camp. I remember stopping to listen at each snap of a stick or the wind whirling through the pines. I can remember listening so intently I could hear my own heart racing. I sometimes wonder if kids these days will know that feeling of walking through a forest by the soft glow of a flashlight. Maybe there is some intrinsic value within the simplicity of yesteryear. Maybe truly being disconnected actually allows us to connect in a more meaningful way...I was just a young kid with my grandpa's old Savage 30-30 rifle that took to climbing that ridge religiously an hour before daylight. Armed with a little flashlight, buck knife, and a pocket full of brass clinking and clanking with each passing step. I remember hurrying up that stand. I remember the sound of squeaky snow under my boots. I remember being so hot while getting dressed at camp and sweating by the time I got into that stand. I was always shivering by sunrise.Sitting in that stand was my first real-life lesson in both patience and endurance. For hours on end, I'd sit awaiting a deer that seldom came. I'd sway in the tall pines and listen to the creaking noises from my first crude attempt at carpentry. I remember my fleet farm orange jacket not seeming nearly as warm as when I tried it on at the store with dad. I recall learning that 2 pairs of socks aren't necessarily warmer if your boots become too tight. I remember a pocket full of Halloween candy being eaten by lunch.Still, it was up there in that simple deer stand that I started to grow up. I listened to the ravens that cackled overhead. I watched red squirrels scamper across the forest floor. I practiced flipping my safety on and off. Each distant shot made me want to get down to see if someone in our hunting camp shot a deer. Still, I wasn't supposed to leave my stand until 10 am!! I had a lot of time to think, observe, and just appreciate simple things.I'd surmise fewer kids in today's new world will ever truly comprehend hunting without atv's, beautiful enclosed stands with heat, premium apparel, cell phones, and modern guns. Surely, the sport has progressed with many creature comforts and conveniences I probably wouldn't want to part with either.Yet, in some wildly romantic way, I'll probably forever miss those old days. I'll miss hunting with my dad, arguably some of the very best moments in my life. I'll miss some of the many old characters we had back at camp. I'll miss not knowing what bucks we had living in the ridges. I'll miss all those big old camps of hunters on our way into our spot. I'll miss that old green school bus we called home for a week each November. For the young kids just getting into hunting, take the time to enjoy the entire experience. Over the years, I've been fortunate to shoot some great bucks, but I can promise you that the harvest isn't even a fraction of what will fill your soul in the years to come. ♥️ ... See MoreSee Less

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Rainydaze Guide Service

5 days ago

I took a little solo mission down to the Rainy River yesterday with my pup!! He was pretty busy checking our stringer and making sure I was casting in the right spots!! Fall is such a wonderful time of year here in borderland!! ❤️ ... See MoreSee Less

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