Rifle season opens tomorrow. It's a celebration of sorts. People flock to the area and the town is a sea of blaze orange. A very unflattering color, might I add.
This picture was taken a couple years ago. The man is my neighbor; he shot the biggest buck that year. It was quite the to-do.
I love deer season. It's probably my favorite holiday after Christmas and the 4th of July. Yes, I said holiday. I told you it was a big deal.
I went deer hunting once. It was cold. It was boring. I killed a baby deer. Fortunately I didn't have to gut it, although I did watch. And no, it didn't traumatize me for life. I love wild game. Tastes yummy.
Last weekend Darren went on an archery hunt at Camp Ripley. This is him with the 32-point buck he shot there.
Just kidding. That's not Darren.
But this man did shoot a 32-point buck at Ripley the weekend before my husband went. Look at that beast. Can you say crazy? And you know what the problem would be if Darren did shoot a buck that big? I would have to look at it hanging on my wall for the rest of my life. Lovely image, no?
I think everyone should go hunting at least once; it is fun. Although I did grow up surrounded by it, so I'm a little biased. My mom has pictures of my dad holding us three kids as infants next to dead deer hanging from the rafters in the garage. I remember one year he cut up his own meat in the basement. There are frequently deer heads and antlers laying around the place. Nothing like tripping over a deer head in a dark garage. If that doesn't scare you half to death, I don't know what will.
The whole family gets together for the weekend and there's always lots of food, laughter, and fun. We're heading up north today; I'll be sure to take pictures of everything!