It startled it me so bad that I fell of the rock I was sitting on, making enough noise to warn the deer that I was nearby. The entire bunch of deer were trying to reverse course in the middle of the river about 50 yards from me. There was a 2 X 3 point buck in the middle. I figured if I shot it, it would float down to me and I could grab it without getting wet. I got my shot clear of the other deer, and took it. The entire bunch of deer exploded out of the river, up the bank and into the woods. I couldn't believe I had missed. There was no deer in the river and no movement in the woods on the other side. I have never taken a shot that I haven't investigated to the max, to insure I haven't wounded a deer. But crossing the river? Down the bank and into the water I went, finding myself up to my waste almost at once. There were chunks of ice floating in the current. Holding my rifle above my head I charged across the river hoping I didn't lose my footing. I reached the other bank, shouting Oh my God, Oh my God! There was no looking for the deer yet, I had to get my feet out of my boots first as they were full of ice water. After squeezing the water out of my socks, emptying the water out of my boots, I put them back on. My hands were frozen, and my pants and long jons soaked. I walked fifty feet into the woods and there lay the buck, stone dead. As I dressed the deer its warm blood warmed my hands, but my teeth were still chattering. Upon finishing that chore, it dawned on me, I had to cross the river again. It would be a ten mile walk to the nearest bridge. So...........back into the river dragging the deer behind me. One slip and I was toast. I made the other bank shouting four letter words, and pulled the buck up and out of the water onto the bank. There was no way I could drag this buck uphill back to camp, so I covered it with brush, and headed up hill. At least the up hill climb to mid way up the mountain got me warm again. I ran into camp looking like a drowned rat. I told the wife I had a deer down by the river and we needed the truck to go get it. So we all piled into the 1955 International PU and headed down the mountain. It was a lot longer driving down than the way I had gone down and back up, and darn, that truck heater felt good...........The buck was still there. After loading it in the bed and back to camp, it was hung on the cross pole, and I got some warm dry clothes and hot soup...................The rest of the story.........would you believe this deer camp was 4 miles from our trailer house on Tonada Creek. And yes Deer camp was great.

I kept on driving, knowing the road hooked to the left ahead and came up on the other side of the burned area. I pulled over and parked the truck. After loading the 30-30 I made my way up a slight hill that overlooked t the burned area. I stopped to catch my breath and take the safety off before poking my head over the top of the hill for a look down the other side. The wind was blowing in my face and was making a lot of noise. The does had joined up with three bucks in a little clearing below. One buck was a 3 x 3, with a very high rack. I came up aimed and fired. It was about a 150 yard shot. The buck dropped in his tracks. By the time I got the buck dressed and back to the truck almost all the snow was gone, and I had to take off my coat it was so warm. The picture at the top with my daughter is one of my favorites.

I have always boned out my own deer, not wasting any meat at all. I've even taken the meat from between the ribs and added it to the sausage pile.

Over the years I think I shot two or three doe that I had special tags for. I've always found it more exciting to hunt the bucks and I've always had a good time win or lose.