My designated area was a tree stand that sits on what we call ‘The 27 Acres’. It has wide open visibility of its rolling hills with long stretches of powerlines rolling right along with them, a tall transmission tower sits atop the hill directly in front of the stand. To the west, out past the wooded area, a few farms with cut corn fields are tucked along the narrow roadway that runs the outer edge of the property line. This area is a known ‘deer highway’. In the tree stand, the woods are at your back and you’re looking at the rolling hills surrounded by open fields.

In my approach to the tree stand, the wind kicked up and was more consistent. By the time I stalked my way to the stand, the sun had begun its slow ascent. I grab the ladder and begin to climb, I look up and the seat is swaying back and forth with the tree. I think to myself, ‘Would I be able to get a well-aimed shot from this?’ Internally, the answer was no, I slowly lowered myself down and posted up in the prone below the tree. Kernsy had hooked me up with an Ozonics system to mitigate scent detection, so I set that up in the tree tucking it behind the ladder and watched the woods come alive.

Behind me, a giant shadow coincides with a loud, thundering flap; turkeys coming out the roost. I lay frozen, withstanding the wind chill, wishing I could somehow dig myself deeper into the ground to serve as a windbreak of sorts, but I know one small maneuver could be the difference between me seeing deer today or not. I stay vigilant. Out of my peripheral, to my right, a turkey comes into focus, then another, another, six in total come strutting out in search of their morning feast. They pass, I had stuffed my Magpul grip with handwarmers, my hand is about the only part not feeling the frozen burden right now. I reach into my hoodie pouch under my vest and find another handwarmer to squeeze on, when I catch something in my left peripheral, it’s way bigger than a turkey. Discreetly, I start to move my head so I can try to catch a glimpse of whatever this is. It’s a deer, I can make out an antler, it’s a buck. I’m still trying to get the full picture of this guy as slow and cautious as possible. It’s a young four-pointer. He comes towards the tree line that’s behind me and gets within 25 yards, he feeds for a moment then proceeds to the woods behind me and out of sight.

At this moment I’m taken aback by nature’s majesty. The world is so much bigger and complex than the small scope we peer at life through while on the daily grind. Just as we go to work to feed our families, all of God’s creation is taking this opportunity of sunlight to find their meal. It’s just incredible to see how nature acts when they don’t know you’re observing. Seeing the youth, ambition and innocence in that young buck’s eyes was an awesome moment that I will carry with me for quite some time. That seemed to be the peak for today’s ‘highway’ traffic as I had no further encounters. Around 11, I packed it up and moved back to the barn for lunch.

My approach to the barn reveals more vehicles, I begin to hear the murmur of general conversation sounding from within. I step in and there’s my boys joined by another fellow named Doug. I had met Doug at last year’s hunt and he’s one of the men that showed me that not everyone on this earth is full of greed. In fact, Doug may be one of the most gracious people I’ve ever encountered. I won’t go into too much detail here, but he has helped make this entire hunt happen and I don’t know if he quite understands the weight of the opportunity that he’s presented us. I’m not everyone, so I’ll only speak for myself, but his help has reached beyond self and expanded to my family by bringing them a renewed me, a me that doesn’t have a bitter taste of the world still on his tongue. A me that has reunited with his Marines, a me that has been reminded of who I am and what I’m capable of. Doug’s not only a patriot in every sense of the word (he’s constantly expressing gratitude for service) but he’s one of those guys who’ve grown up in the woods, loves to hunt and has that hunter’s knowledge database programmed internally and dialed in. If any of the Veterans express a want or need in his presence, there’s a large chance that Doug’s going to find a way to make that happen and that goes beyond tangible items, he’s always open to have a conversation to work through things.

“Who’s hungry!?” Doug bellows out over the multiple conversations, “I was thinking Capri!”

As soon as he said Capri, everyone’s eyes lit up. I guess it’s a north Ohio thing, and I don’t know what makes it so delicious, but their sausage sandwiches with the spicy pepper sauce is top notch. After a few ‘hell yeahs’, Doug pulls out his phone and is taking everyone’s order to relay it to his wife, Sherry. Sherry is the same as Doug, just a patriot through and through, and there’s nothing that would stop her from helping anyone in need. Doug gets the order relayed to Sherry and everyone starts trading hunting stories and catching up with one another. This is the part where I love to sit and listen, so much history and knowledge is departed through general conversation here.

A few moments pass and over the voices comes a low grumbling, the sound of a tractor engine drawing close to the barn. The garage door begins to draw up slowly, unveiling Mr. Paidousis in his tractor with a generator in tow, he had been out working on their new barn. George Paidousis, I call him Mr. Paidousis, is a retired Chief Warrant Officer 4 from the Coast Guard. He can usually be found working the land day in and day out, when he’s not tending to the horses or the farm, he’s helping his family out. He’s one of those guys that keeps his head down and works hard but when you strike up a conversation with him you really feel his command presence and the man is so knowledgeable in any topic of conversation, he’s especially well versed in politics, the conversation we all attempt to avoid- but it always happens. I don’t know why, but to me, there’s nothing better than getting a laugh or a smile out of Mr. Paidousis, I also love seeing him give Deuce a hard way to go, it’s hilarious.

Mr. Paidousis lets the generator down smoothly onto the barn’s concrete floor, you see everyone slowly migrate toward the wood stove in the corner as all the wind whips through the barn. George gets the tractor backed out, closing the garage door behind him, shuts the machine down and comes in to join us. He does his rounds, greeting everyone and whatnot, then proceeds to begin disassembling the generator in hopes of pinpointing whatever the issue may be. At 71 years old, this man would probably outwork all of us.

Shortly thereafter, here comes Sherry with everyone’s order plus a bunch of nuggets from McDonalds for Gunnar, he winds up eating 26- impressive. The silence of lunch commences. We go back out after lunch and barely see any activity as temperatures continue to plummet. Owney winds up getting a doe at 70 yards right before sunset. As Deuce and I roll in from our sits, we assist Owney in tracking and dressing her. After that, opening day is a wrap, the night is filled with reminiscing about our times in the Marines, asking for updates on our guys and so on until bed. Gunnar draws us all our own prototypical weapons that have special powers and says they’re good luck. Tomorrow’s forecast? - 19 with precipitation...

“I gotta get rid of this Ohio buck curse!” Kerns cuts loose as he barges through the barn door, the forecast was correct, unfortunately, and the chill of the whipping wind and sporadic snow slice through the barn before he slams it shut. Gunnar looks like he can barely move with all the warming layers he’s got on but he’s his chipper self, even this early in the morning (he’s still bragging about his 26-nugget escapade). This morning, I’m heading down to what we call ‘The Bottom’. The Bottom is a tree stand that is, in my opinion, in one of the most beautiful spots on the property. From The Bottom you can see clear to the freshly cut corn fields that are about a ½ mile out, in between, you have sporadic trees and thickets, some cat tails and to the right, a nice little pond.

I climb up right before the sun begins to rise, pull my rifle rest from over me and begin my sit. As day breaks, a mallard and a hen begin tooling around in the pond. The mallard is on the hunt for some breakfast and the hen follows in trace, almost as if she’s pulling security. A Blue Herron lands in the cat tails and towers over them, ever so vigilant, it looks downward, scanning for movement. To my left, a Pileated Woodpecker hops from tree to tree sending random knocks that ripple throughout the woods. I’m enjoying the woods wake up routine when I catch movement but can’t pinpoint what it was. I begin to scan over the area, a flash of brown comes weaving through the tall grass about 30 yards ahead of me. It’s a fawn or a real young deer foraging the ground, I had to look twice as I thought it could’ve been a small dog or something but no, a little deer. As the time passes, so does the sun, behind heavy gray clouds. The sky starts spitting flurries, the flurries turn into full blown snow, the wind begins changing directions so I’m catching flakes from the right for a moment and then the left. All the wildlife appeared to tuck away to wait it out. I sat it out as well, until 11, when I began my trek back to the barn.

Today’s kind of a solemn day, Kerns is heading out early, he had been invited to a Veteran-exclusive hunt at Letterkenny Army Depot where they let the invited Vets go out before opening day and try their hand at a successful hunt (no pun intended, Kernsy, if you’re reading this). He was going to stay for the evening hunt but due to weather conditions, he wanted to get Gunnar back home safe and sound before road dogging it to Pennsylvania. A true die-hard huntsman, hopping from hunt to hunt, in search of that next environment, that next thrill.

We all arrive back at the barn around the same time, all with similar reports overall, just not much of any type of movement today. Kernsy is in luck, well, we all are. Mrs. Paidousis made her famous Italian Turkey, which would make for the perfect lunch before you get on the road. We all dig in, making sandwiches, sneaking a little piece right off the bird when we can. This Italian Turkey is something I was introduced to last year and will look forward to it every year so long as Mrs. Paidousis doesn’t mind making it, it’s absolutely delicious and unlike any turkey I’ve ever had before. Lunch ends, we say our goodbyes, I tell Gunnar that I will keep his drawing in my breast pocket for good luck, he smiles, everyone follows suit.

“Well, these deer ain’t gonna hunt themselves,” Deuce says, arms folded, he shakes it off and begins to gather his warming layers, vest and equipment. You can always depend on Gunny to get everyone back on task. We all get suited up, wish one another luck and head back out to our respective spots.

My infil was weirdly pleasant, the wind dissipated, and the sun had poked out from the cover of the clouds. The woods floor was covered with a thin layer of snow and I would catch the occasional, random flurry here and there. Once I reached the seat of the stand, the story switched on me a little bit, the sun would peek behind the clouds and the wind would start kicking. Then, in comes the snow, sideways in a swirling frenzy, it was like the most peaceful frenzy I could ever imagine. Other than the woodpecker and ducks still foraging for food, my report was the same as earlier- nothing. I began my exfil a little earlier than typical due to fear of sliding off the ladder, I knew it was going to take a little extra caution and finesse to get out of the stand this evening. As the sun began to fall, I prayed I wouldn’t. I made it to ground level and trekked back to the barn.

Tonight, Deuce and I decided to go into town and eat at a small restaurant called The Ville after running some errands for the family. We had some good wings and fried zucchini while we chopped it up with some of the locals at the bar. Good meal and a good night, overall. Tomorrow’s forecast shows promise- no precipitation, low winds and we should climb slightly above freezing.

It's day three, it’s a little harder to wake up without snoozing the alarm but the possibility of a good day for deer looms and motivates us to get prepared and congregate at the barn prior to pushing out. Tough tasks are so much easier to overcome when you’re in good company. As the same faces pile into the barn, Owney gives one last tug on his boot and stands, “Now, today is gonna be a good day, them deer are gonna be movin'!"

And moving they were. I went back to The Bottom, as the sun rose, I hear the crack of a rifle. I think to myself, ‘heck yeah, someone got one!’ I get a text from Deuce, ‘Mike got a shot on a buck but it took off.’ I continue to sit, sounds like Deuce has him covered for tracking and all that. A few moments later, another crack and another right behind it. Deuce and Mike were attempting to find a blood trail when Deuce spotted a nice 9-point buck but it was out of range so they stalked the tree line opposite of him to get a better vantage point and to gain proximity. At the edge of the tree line, Deuce has good distance (163 yards) and dropped to the prone. His first shot stumbled the deer and the follow-on shot put him down. They let him lay upon confirmation and proceeded to try to find the blood trail from Mike’s shot; no traces of blood were found. They dressed Deuce’s buck and brought it to the barn. My sit at The Bottom was the same report as yesterday- nothing, this doesn't phase me, Deuce landed a buck!

The evening hunt wasn’t fruitful for me, either. I seen a few doe off around the 300 yard mark, but that’s not a shot I’m comfortable with using a 350 Legend, I just haven’t trained enough for that. Mike got a very good, three-year-old doe from a spot that we call ‘The Chalet’. The Chalet is a permanent, elevated blind that Deuce’s friend, Trevor, built back in their youth. It still stands but the floor’s beginning to deteriorate, so we just sit in cover under it. After we all returned from our spots that night, we linked up with Mike and dressed his deer and got it to the barn as well.

That night, we all sat around and reminisced around dinner. There’s something about being able to talk to the guys that you experienced the best and worst days of your life with. I enjoyed hearing Owney exchange hunting stories and tales of Mike’s youth. Deuce and I went back and forth on barracks life, the wild things we would get into on liberty and how we’re curious to see how some guys are doing nowadays. All in all, no deer for me, but that didn’t matter, this is what it’s all about. Forecast for tomorrow- another good day for deer, no precipitation, low wind and temps climbing into the 40’s...

It’s now day four, 4:15 triggers my alarm and I swing myself out of bed. I hit the same routine, scent-block shower and hygiene, get dressed and head to the barn. I don’t know how to explain it, but today feels different, something in me is telling me, ‘Today’s the day’. I show up at the barn, have my coffee and greet everyone as they file in. Mike steps through the door, “Wade, you need to hit The Chalet today.”

I think on this for a moment, “You think so?”

“Yeah, man.”

I look at Owney, “What do you think?”

Owney responds with, “Go with your gut instinct, but I feel that The Chalet is a good option on a day like today.”

This is where I’m a little proud of myself because I start to realize that listening to these guys is developing my critical thinking skills when it comes to hunting. I sat at The 27 Acres, then The Bottom, they’re both along the similar path and The Chalet is in a completely different area of the farm. I think that if I stick on The Bottom and 27 Acres that my odds will be good because I’m there every day, but The Chalet sits in a perfect spot in a valley, a valley that serves as a wind stop for the deer to come out and graze. Internally, I’m thinking that two deer were taken in that area just yesterday, will that matter?

“I’ll set up in The Chalet,” I say decisively, thinking that I’ve got to take risks, because when you get down to the brass tax of this, luck has a lot to do with it- you have to be in the right place at the right time.

Owney explodes with visible excitement, “Good call, brother, I was hoping you would say that!”

He doubles down on it mumbling, “Great call, Great ----- call,” as he pulls his boots up and tightens them. We all ritualistically give each other a fist bump and departing 'good lucks' as we disperse to our spots for the day.

The Chalet looks promising, I see a doe come out, she’s a nice size and could be great meat for my family and me. If I could get a good shot on her, I’m thinking I will probably take her. I’m observing her every movement, she keeps looking over and I remain still and vigilant. At times I will close my eyes, that seems to have a comforting effect on her. Like us, I wonder if she can feel when something’s watching her. Then, something miraculous happens (miraculous for me, anyway), a buck crests the hill at 200 yards out. My nerves activate, I’m taking every precaution I can not to startle him or her while focusing on controlling my breathing. I ever so cautiously pull my rifle tight to my chest and adjust from a sitting position into the prone at snail speed, all while trying to keep one eye on them to ensure I move undetected. A few times he stares me down, I freeze, sometimes in some pretty awkward positions. Nonetheless, I make it into the prone and work my way into a good sight picture. I range him and he’s sitting at 179 yards now but he’s hugging the tree line. I know that if I don’t take this opportunity he could disappear into the thick of the woods and I may never see him again. I find my hold for 200 yards and aim slightly below that- I have my shot. Slow and steady squeeze, control the breathing- CRACK! I let my first shot go, as I learned from Deuce and the Marine Corps, I keep my sights on him in case I need to follow-up. He begins a stumbled run with the tree line, I have my hold but now I need to lead this guy just a bit, slow and steady, breath- CRACK! My second shot rings out and now he hits a hard right turn and disappears into the thicket.

At this point, I don’t know how to feel, one thing’s for certain, my adrenaline has kicked in and it has my right leg shaking. Mike comes running up from his spot, “Dude, did ya get him!?” All I can muster up and say at this point, “I don’t know.” I’m pretty upset with myself now, my overall objective was and always will be to take these deer as quick and painless as I possibly can. My respect for deer and hunters alike has grown immensely since my first hunt last year, I’ve learned that hunters are some of the biggest conservationists in existence and the most actionable in efforts to keep healthy wildlife populations and I view the deer as a blessing to feed my family. There’s nowhere in that equation for me to wound a deer, point blank, period. My time in the Marine Corps taught me a whole new perspective and gave me the upmost respect for life and living creatures. All kinds of thoughts are swirling around internally, it’s a lot to take in but I do my best to remain optimistic...

Check out the final part in the Huntsmen Series, Part 3...