Tom grew up in Milwaukee, bartended in Wauwatosa in the '70s and moved here in 1984.
Commentary, observations and musings about the outdoors, life in general and maybe Tosa politics and personalities will be the order of the day. He savors a lively debate as much as terrific cooking.
Up at 4:30 AM. We scarf coffee, oatmeal and donuts. We head-out in the dark to settle into our stands long before sunrise.
It's balmy 32 degrees, winds from the north and snow flurries.
View from my tree stand. The tamaracks are just beginning lose their brilliant golden needles.
Bingo. Braumeister bags a nice buck at 7 AM.
Back out to the field following a very late breakfast of Lancaster, Pennsylvania scrapple and farm-raised eggs (you know, the brown eggs).
I start my half-mile hike. So I'm walking north on a trail thru the farm take a right turn and find myself face-to-face with a buck deer. Well, not quite - but at least 50 yards - right smack in the middle of the trail. I'm not sure who was more surprised. I struggle with a pack on my right shoulder, chambering a round and bringing the rifle to bear on a deer now beginning to bolt.
I just missed (what could have been) my third deer for the year.
I am not amused. I am p****d.
A quiet and cold and windy afternoon follows.
Lawyer saves the day with about 30 minutes left to shooting time.
A second shot.
Then a third shot.
Three baldies down.
Prompt field-dressing is the start of proper processing
The lawyer at work
Android, Lawyer and the Wench back from the registration station. How do you like those blaze-orange smurf hats?
Android, me and the Wench.
These are the Official Camp Wear t-shirts.
More tomorrow. I have to get back to a nasty sheepshead game.
Shoot straight and hunt safe.