This year's deer hunt was going to be special because my nine-year-old son Sam was going to be joining us for his first experience at deer camp. We left Loveland around 10:30 am and got to Maybell around 4:00 pm. We found a suitable place on the BLM land that we have hunted before and set up camp.
On Saturday Don headed off to walk along the top of the large draw to the North and Sam and I headed down the road to hunt the bottom of the juniper pines. To our dismay we found more fresh elk sign this year than deer sign. In an area that used to be overly abundant with big mule deer was now evolving into elk country.
Sam and I spotted two cow elk near the bottom and saw one doe that was escaping the sound of a hunter's rifle to the South of where we were posting. For opening day the number of shots was greatly reduced from years past. That afternoon we drove up to the old reliable water hole at the top of the area. As we drove up the old twisting road we only saw one other camp in the whole area. It was not unusual to see at least a dozen other camps along the drive to the top.
We posted around the water hole and all we saw was three does 350 yards away on the opposite hill side. The usual crowd of hopeful hunters showed up, glassed for a while and most moved on. We sat here for about three hours and only heard one shot from the draw to the West, but the hunter did not retrieve any animal.
Sam had a good time sitting with Don next to a juniper laughing about the things that hunters laugh about. The sunset was another great one just like the one the evening before.
On Sunday morning we awoke and decide to not wander too far away from camp. Sam and I walked down a dead end trail and descended into the drainage at the end of the road. We walked the drainage for a few hundred yards when Sam told me to look up. There was Don, peering down from 20 yards above us. We decided to mosey on back to camp and head into the thriving metropolis of Maybell, Colorado and enjoy dinner at the café and to take around the park to see what if other hunters were having any luck.
The trip through the park, now transformed into the annual hunting camp affirmed what we had found in our area. There were a lot fewer deer hanging from the trees in the park.
We had dinner at the Maybell Café, but it too was different than the last time I was there a few years back. Gone were most of the taxidermied mounts that covered the walls. No longer there was the full size puma that adorned the back wall. It did not have the ambiance of a hunter's dinner. Sure there were groups of hunters that showed up for the middle of the day meal and a few mounts on the wall, but it was not the same.
While we were in the diner a strong front began moving in our direction with some intensity. The wind picked up considerably and the temperature began dropping. The skies went from sunny to dark gray. By the time we got back to camp it looked like a dust bowl and the tent looked like it was going to wind up in the next county or maybe the county after that one.
Since the prospects of bagging a buck were beginning to look dismal and the weather was taking a turn for the worse we decided to pack up camp and head home. It was the usual mad dash to break camp that goes along with getting out of Dodge before the stuff hits the fan.
The ride home was smooth and enjoyable as we listened to the Broncos kicking the butts of the Oakland Raiders 31 to 3. Although there was no huge rack in the back like a few days before I felt like there was something bigger. Sam had his first experience in a hunting camp and it was a good one indeed.
As we traveled down the Poudre Canyon from the top of Cameron Pass and heading back into the world of politics as Bush and Kerry were still competing for president I was left wondering if I was leaving or entering the real world.
Sam's sunset picture at Wildcat Draw.