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River Report - November 26, 2020
The Old Au Sable Fly Shop Fishing Report
It’s one curve ball after another when Mother Nature pitches November weather. Hunting bucks in the Michigan rifle season is the big leagues. So far this year, I’m batting below the Mendoza line, but it’s not over yet and I’ll keep stepping up to the plate. Two years ago, I didn’t connect with a rack until late into muzzleloader season. You’d better believe, that when the deer I’m looking for slips up and steps out, that I’ll take my swing.
I’m sitting deerless but easy. Jack harvested a perfect doe and put venison in the coffers. When we found the hair and leaves kicked up in the shooting lane, he smiled wide and demanded a high five. I was concerned that he was too young to really understand what it meant to take a deer, but when Grandpa found it and Jack caught up, he was duly excited and proud and appropriately reverent. We all were. A first deer is a special moment.
He’s excited for the chops and jerky and sausage - little provider. He wants us to share.
Grandpa was hoping Jack’s first deer to be with him. So much so that, on opening morning, when my Dad saw the best deer on the property sneak through the lane, he flubbed it because he was trying to get his grandson on a spike and a small six that were in the boy’s scope. None of it worked out and all the bucks slipped off into the swamp.
In the evening, my son sat with me. One lone, old doe showed up and stayed out on the edge of Jack’s range before she disappeared. Nearly an hour later that deer came back; still a stretch too far away until luck intervened. The doe came ten yards closer straight toward the blind, stopped and looked directly at us. We were a bit noisy—busted! And then, more steps closer and another pause and look, and again, and again, and again until the deer was only thirty yards away. Those twenty minutes, with the sights on her ticked small and slow.
And then she turned hinky—tail twitching and ready to run. I said, “Shoot.” Jack asked, “Now?” I said, “Now.”
The moment was meant for us.
Please take care and be safe friends and we’ll see you before you know it.
Andy
It’s one curve ball after another when Mother Nature pitches November weather. Hunting bucks in the Michigan rifle season is the big leagues. So far this year, I’m batting below the Mendoza line, but it’s not over yet and I’ll keep stepping up to the plate. Two years ago, I didn’t connect with a rack until late into muzzleloader season. You’d better believe, that when the deer I’m looking for slips up and steps out, that I’ll take my swing.
I’m sitting deerless but easy. Jack harvested a perfect doe and put venison in the coffers. When we found the hair and leaves kicked up in the shooting lane, he smiled wide and demanded a high five. I was concerned that he was too young to really understand what it meant to take a deer, but when Grandpa found it and Jack caught up, he was duly excited and proud and appropriately reverent. We all were. A first deer is a special moment.
He’s excited for the chops and jerky and sausage - little provider. He wants us to share.
Grandpa was hoping Jack’s first deer to be with him. So much so that, on opening morning, when my Dad saw the best deer on the property sneak through the lane, he flubbed it because he was trying to get his grandson on a spike and a small six that were in the boy’s scope. None of it worked out and all the bucks slipped off into the swamp.
In the evening, my son sat with me. One lone, old doe showed up and stayed out on the edge of Jack’s range before she disappeared. Nearly an hour later that deer came back; still a stretch too far away until luck intervened. The doe came ten yards closer straight toward the blind, stopped and looked directly at us. We were a bit noisy—busted! And then, more steps closer and another pause and look, and again, and again, and again until the deer was only thirty yards away. Those twenty minutes, with the sights on her ticked small and slow.
And then she turned hinky—tail twitching and ready to run. I said, “Shoot.” Jack asked, “Now?” I said, “Now.”
The moment was meant for us.
Please take care and be safe friends and we’ll see you before you know it.
Andy