Johnson Deer Shack

I learned a long time ago that I would be forgoing the maternal side of my family's tradition of deer hunting. I'm really good at watching deer in the woods or hitting them with my car, but I'm absolutely awful when it comes to pulling the trigger with the intentions of killing an animal. That point was made abundantly clear my second year of hunting when my mom shot and killed a deer that I had been watching for almost an hour. That day I watched a beautiful animal bleed out and die; I knew instantaneously that although I love venison, I could never be the one to actually end a life. My hunting days were over.

However, the experience of the hunt is live and well with my sister's stories/escapades of searching out that turdy point buck. Every year she hunts and every year there are bound to be great stories to share from the Johnson Deer Shack. This year has proved to be no exception. Last night I read her blog post and found myself laughing hysterically out loud and then tearing up by the end. Her writing totally encapsulates the love of the hunt and who she is.

Who can sleep? So anxious to get up and get out in the deer stand - the excitement buzzes in my head as the hands on the clock slowly click by. The alarm clock sounds while the sun not showing through yet and I'm up. I've got my hot water warming for my thermos and my hand warmers being taken out of their packets awaiting to warm my hands in just a matter of minutes. I bundle up, all my lucky clothes - long socks, 7th grade sweat shirt and long johns, plenty warm for the adventure I'm looking to encounter.

To read the rest of "It's in the air...." go to Team Tuttle's Blog by clicking here.