# Hello Old Friend



## tree md (Feb 16, 2011)

Written by a good friend of mine:

Hello Old Friend 

Even from a long distance away I could recognize him. I picked up my pace as I got closer, anxious to be close to him again. A little thinner at the top and maybe a bit thicker in the middle, but mostly just the way I had remembered him. He hadn’t aged nearly as much as I had over the years. To anyone else, he would hardly stand out from the crowd. But to me he was special, and none of the others could compare. I stopped a short distance away to admire him, and smile. A few scars were evident, a few of them caused by me, but all in all, he was in good shape. I walked right up and stood next to him. I had been away too long and I relished this chance to be here again. This place felt like home.

As I stood there next to the red oak, a tidal wave of bowhunting memories swept over me. This was the spot where I had killed 4 bucks, missed 2, and had at least a dozen close encounters. This is where I first heard a buck snort wheeze, where I first saw rut activity like I’d read about, and where I first used a call to bring a buck within range. Sure, I had bowhunted other places before, but this was the spot where everything started to fall in place for me. This was the place where I truly learned to bowhunt. To me, this was hallowed ground.

The mountain top was clearcut in the mid 80’s and the result completely changed deer activity in the area. Within a couple of years, as the undergrowth began to thicken up, the 50 acre clearcut became a hub of deer activity. I had spent a couple seasons and dozens of scouting trips trying to figure out just the right strategy to hunt this area. The loggers had cut down all the trees, which meant hunting the 300 yard wide mountain top from a treestand was impossible. The tangle of briars, brush, and mountain laurel that had sprung up made the prospect of hunting from the ground equally attractive. I attempted to hunt the edge along well used deer trails, with varied success. I saw deer, occasionally would spy a buck, but without any consistency.

Finally I stumbled upon the location of the red oak. Here there was a small depression and swale in the ridge leading to a short bench that ran just off the top of the mountain. The bench formed kind of a little bowl where it ended just off the top of the ridge. The red oak had enough limbs to provide cover and was the last available tree at the edge of the timber. The prevailing northwest winds would blow across the top of the ridge and out over the steep mountainside behind the stand. Most deer would travel at the edge of the thick clearcut, either on the bench or along the edge of the hill. The deer trails nearby were especially well worn and after setting a stand and putting in some observation time, it became clear why. Here, the lay of the land and thickness of the terrain worked together to funnel deer traffic, as they returned from feeding in the farmland below. For the first time in my hunting experience, it all made sense. I had never thought about the lay of the land that much, but now terrain would become the predominant factor in deciding where to hang stands. Before, I had been too preoccupied with rubs, droppings, and scrapes. Gradually it dawned on me that I needed to mix that information with what I was learning about terrain.

Here I would make my stand dozens of mornings, and this became my predominant bowhunting location for nearly a decade. I scouted other places, hung a few stands elsewhere, but I would always return to the red oak. Over the years I saw hundreds of deer from this location, and not once was I spotted by a deer. With its numerous branches located at just the right angles and heights, I was well hidden. Standing there I could remember days when I lost count of the deer traveling by in the morning. And who could forget encounters with foxes, owls, hawks, turkeys, and even a bobcat. Hunting memories from this one spot hang heavy in my mind like overcrowded apples on a thin branch.

Looking around the woods I was struck at how much everything else had changed. The young trees I remembered in the clearcut were surprisingly large now. The thick undergrowth was gone as the higher tree canopy had shaded the lower regions of the forest floor. I chuckled as I walked past the little water hole I had constructed with a piece of rubber roofing. What kind of fool would carry a garden shovel and rubber roofing all the way to the top of this mountain? I moved up to the top of the ridge and realized you could hunt from the ground anywhere, visibility was surprisingly good now. The forest had changed and matured with time, and time had gradually erased most of the promise of this location for a bowhunter.

Sadness swept over me as I looked back on my friend from the ridge top. It was the end of an era and the fulfillment of an unspoken friendship. With the sharp decline in deer sign in the area, I knew I wouldn’t be back anytime soon. I looked around one more time and tried to soak it all in, knowing that I already had the sights, sounds, and smells forever etched in my memory. I worked my way out the ridge and started the trek back to the Jeep.

Walking out I couldn’t help but think about life and how it changes with the ebbs and flows of time. Nothing ever stays the same, and I know it’s not supposed to. In a few more years, time will undoubtedly claim me as a victim also. I’m at the autumn age of life now and I’ve noticed the changes to the body can come suddenly, almost without warning.

I’d like to think the red oak will continue on long after I’m gone. Maybe someday in the future, a young hunter will stumble on that tree and find a gold mine of deer hunting nuggets. I hope someone else can climb that oak tree and find a place he falls in love with, a place that calls him back time and time again.

Maybe he’ll even consider the tree his friend.


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## Toddppm (Feb 18, 2011)

Good story. Did he get it published?


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## tree md (Feb 18, 2011)

Nah, he's a commercial contractor. Just a friend with a lifetime of hunting experience that I have a lot of respect for. I'm glad to have him as a friend.


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## Toddppm (Feb 18, 2011)

I bet if he sent it to a couple of the magazines one of them would put it in.


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