By John Jefferson

 

T’was the night before deer season and all thru the camp…

NO! Please keep reading. I promise this won’t be another trite parody of the Christmas poem! We’re all used up on those.

But not unlike the December 24th anticipation of what’s coming, on the days before deer season — and the evening preceding — the expectations, hopes, and fears run high. And they’re not visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads.

Un uh. It’s thoughts of rendezvousing with old hunting buddies, sharing refreshments and tales of past hunts around a campfire or cabin fireplace, perhaps meeting new hunting mates, and laughing at anything that in a different environment might not even draw a smile.

But in this season, it’s different. We’ve left our cares and unfinished work at the city limits as we journeyed to deer camp. And we’re different people — at least for this weekend and a few days afterwards. We’ve abandoned the desperation and discontentment of the 2020 “Pandamit”, become much more likable.

A friend and hunting buddy, Joe Colbert, referred to the evening before the season opens as the “Deer Hunters’ Ball”. I don’t have a lease this season but will celebrate the opener around our fire pit with my two hunting dogs and my wife, who has put more meat in the freezer lately than I have.

One year, we went to Johnson’s Trading Post in Bee Cave for supper because that was where some hunters went on that evening. Bandera formerly had a weekend celebration beginning the night before. It’s on their current calendar, but no information was available. It was a veritable BLAST!

Another time, my girlfriend became miffed because I got off a plane from a business trip, kissed her hello and headed to the deer lease for our version of the “ball”! After all, that was when we drew doe permits!

At the lease, old tales are re-told about hunters who forgot to bring ammo or even one man who arrived without the bolt to his bolt-action rifle. Accounts of legendary game crimes are replayed, too, like the ones about two men who claimed to have shot huge bucks, which proved fraudulent.

The night before the opener is often a sleepless one. But the only sleep-depriving worries are about over-sleeping. And daydreams in the dark of big bucks cause some twisting and turning, too – like a kid wondering what Santa will bring.

On my first night on my first deer lease, all of the above kept me awake along with the cacophony of snoring from too many men in a too-small room. Personally, I was wishing my buddy and I hadn’t spent the entire trip to Kerrville dipping chips into a kettle of “Wick Fowler’s 4-Alarm Chili!” Even without the chili, I still have trouble sleeping the night before.

The grandest feeling, though, is leaving town and troubles behind as you head to the hunt on a cool, sunlit afternoon as the trees begin to turn. And all’s right in the world.

JJ