Life
Deer Season
About 20 years ago yesterday, I would not have gone to school. Not because of weather or teacher in-service or even a desire to skip. I would not have gone to school because yesterday was the first day of deer hunting season in Pennsylvania.
I enjoy telling people from urban areas or other places where hunting deer is not a common activity that Pennsylvania accords the first day of the season a status roughly akin to the Fourth of July (the major difference is that real guns are used more often on this day). When I was very young, the schools tried to ignore the date and insist on attendance, but a few years with 20 percent attendance (or lower) convinced them to drop the issue. By high school, even the girls that didn’t hunt knew not to show up.
In my home state, there’s education, and then there’s the important stuff.
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I was well into college before I fully realized that the rest of the world did not have deer season written into its school calendars. Pennsylvania indoctrinated us well.
Though I’ve never owned a gun, I’ve experienced the exhilaration of the deer hunt. My fellow hunters and I stalked the beast at night. Carrying no weapons, we crept stealth-like toward the sleeping buck. Each footstep silently eased to the forrest floor. Closer. Closer. Timing our breathing with that of our prey. Then, we lunge, diving at the animal. It’s tired eyes snap open. With every fiber of its being, it fights to escape. But we cling to the beast , until one of our fearless party climbs atop and rides the buck through the woods, chanting an Apache victory prayer, which loosely translated means: “Check this out, warrior ancesters. Isn’t this a gas!”
I too have experienced the thrill of the deer hunt. Although born on the outskirts of Philly, I chose not to go to Penn but rather East Stroudsburg State College (now a University). Being confident that I could graduate with minimal effort, it afforded me the opportunity to get into the woods and partake in this annual right of passage. Now, I have taken a wife and we have made the mountains of PA our home for the last 15 years. The deer hunt has caused numerous metabolic changes in our life style. The gaps between our teeth have widened (some teeth gone), good hygiene is no longer a priority and funnel cake is our traditional holiday dish. We have acquired a refrigerator and a couch on our porch. If we’re lucky we can pop one on those deers without getting off the couch. Life is good.