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On opening day its warm and its bright, compared to last year its

a real delight. The leaves are all dry and crunch under-foot, so the

deer know you're there and will usually stay put. There's plenty of

sign left by a buck, so you can't help thinking "this time were in luck".

But as opening day dissolves into night, eight deer were spotted but

none through the sight!

Our party of four is missing a gun, says "he's too out of shape and

would'nt have fun". Well, we all know he's lazy and most men are bigger

but it don't take much strength to pull back a trigger!

Ole "Scarface" is a trophy that I have been courting, he greets me in

darkness by thrashin and snortin. He never shows-up in the brightness of

day, the thickest of brush is where he must lay. The forest is his, I'm

just a guest, when the season is over we will know who is best!

Sunday its colder and a little bit breezy, keeping warm in the stand

was'nt as easy. The woods it was quiet, hardly a sound, until Paul shot

a buck with only one round. He was'nt too big, not even a rack, but we

knew that next week we all would be back.

The tradition of hunting, the friends, food and beer, there's nothing

quite like it during the year. I always look forward in spite of the cold

and will always hunt deer until I'm too old.

By Lars