With the decision to take up serious deer hunting came the necessity for "GEAR" , a catchall phrase for anything a sporting goods salesman can convince you to buy. So we began the acquisition of the arsenal and appurtenances necessary, and with the unquenchable enthusiasm of youth we "took to the woods." It quickly became apparent that deer do not relish the prospect of becoming tablefare, and without knowledge of their habits, success was going to be hard to come by.

Availing ourselves of any information we could find, we forged ahead trying everything suggested and making as many mistakes as possible in the shortest period of time. This trail of mistakes and the effort exerted to create it, is either hilariously funny or pathetically pitiful depending whether you were an observer or a participant.

Frightened out of our wits by tales of wholesale slaughter of hunters by hunters, we took extraordinary measures to insure our safety. Going to stands before daylight with a flashlight; whistling and singing on the way out. Freezing on the stand an hour before first light so that the forest could "settle" from our passage. When somebody finally lucked into a buck, we were petrified dragging it to the car, feeling crosshairs between our shoulder blades every step.

Though we may have been overreacting a bit, I do remember the afternoon a car drove down thrrough the woods and stopped 40 yards from my stand; three young fellows got out and one asked for directions to load his gun. There are drawbacks to hunting public land. Another morning on "Doe Day" in the Oconee National forest I was on stand when a rifle cracked a couple hundred yards or so down the ridge. Shortly another shot, then several more. A quiet spell and then excited yelling with more shots. The procession continued, with intermittent yelling and shooting in a semi-circle to my right. I was pasted onto my tree like flypaper. Finally after some twenty rounds the party seemed to be over. I waited til I stopped shaking and cautiously climbed down making my way quickly to the car. There, all my hunting uddies were milling around wondering as to what was going on.

Suddenly, around a bend in the woods road came an unforgettable sight, two young men with a small doe strung on a sweetgum pole that was over 4 inches in diameter and 10 feet long. It weighed as much as the deer. The animal was trussed in such a manner that the carcass swayed as the guys walked, throwing them off balance with each step. They lurched to our car and seemed to collapse rather than sit.

This scene was unreal! It was a cool day but they were soaked to the skin with perspiration, their clothes were in tatters,and they were scratched and bleeding from multiple wounds. The rifles they carried had a new gun look, but were severely scarred with deep scratches on the stocks and forearms. The first conversation was the question " How far is the road?", followed by audible moans when informed "About a mile."

They were resting so we looked at their deer. There were holes all over the creature. As it turned out all the shooting had been at this one animal by one man. He had hit the deer with the first shot and then chased it through the woods for a quarter mile, reloading and firing all the while. Finally he had gotten real close and finished the job. We weren't saying much, just all wondering how he could have had so much trouble killing one deer, when one of our guys asked him at what distance he had zeroed his rifle. His reply was classic. "Oh", he said, "I just bought it yesterdaay at a hardware store in Athens and the man told me it came zeroed in from the factory." Looking back, maybe we should have been afraid to be in those woods.

There was much more to learn than simply killing and field dressing a deer. There was getting lost, wearing the wrong clothes, leaving essential gear at home, building a fire in the rain while freezing, treating burns from cooking on a campfire, and a few hundred other wonderfully enlightening experiences. A major drawback was our ignorance of the large tract of land we were hunting, so we bought aerial photos and began reconnoitering. The photos gave a mental picture of the place and together with our exploring, eventually we became familiar. This gave us confidence against getting lost and we began to move about using terrain for direction rather than marked trails.

One evening I was hunting by myself and decided to take a short cut to the car across terrain I had never been on. I was following what looked like a trail when suddenly in front of me the flashlight picked up a piece of tin foil wrapped around a small limb about eye level off the ground. I stopped and stood there wondering who would travel so far back in the woods just to litter up the place, when my eyes were drawn to a dark spot in the trail about six feet in front of me. Pine straw surrounded the spot which seemed about a foot in diameter. Looking closely it seemed to be some sort of hole. I found a good sized rock and pitched it onto the straw and it went right through. There were ricochet sounds and then a splash. Wayyyyyyyyyy down! Only someone's thoughtful marking of that abandoned well saved me from certain disaster. I don't know if it was ever filled, I told the Forestry folks where it was and left it considerably better marked. I found later that it was common knowledge among the locals that old wells from abandoned homesites were scattered around, another good reason to make friends and ask a lot of questions.

As the sport grew it was natural for hunters to develop regular hunting buddies and so it was with us, and the acquaintance evolved into lifelong friendship. Of all the rewards brought to me by deer hunting, these relationships are by far the most important. Having a common, compelling interest and sharing the intriguing adventure of learning to hunt a most elusive creature, formed a bond between us that has weathered the storms of life; a bond not to be taken lightly. Through the heartbreak of financial failure, divorces, and progressive illnesses among other major catastrophies, it has held true, providing strength and stability. It is living proof that some things can last forever. Though the years have separated us into differtent paths, we have never lost contact nor friendship and when we meet the "Whole is greater than the sum of its parts".