This is, and has always been, the hardest time of year for me to write a Struttin’ Time for you. There are so many memories and adventures around this time of year, I without question really don’t know where to start.
Do I start about the old crew loading up on Labor Day weekend from the McRoberts, Hemphill, Craft’s Colly area, and heading out to the Daniel Boone National forest to hunt for three days, or do I start after we arrive in camp? We use to be 35 plus strong, and always had a blast. I remember hauling back coolers full of squirrel, and the Coleman stoves frying them in our camp.
Almost all of the crew has crossed “The Silent River” waiting for the rest of us to arrive. The list could go on and on of the men that were friends, and loved to hunt and fish together.
The packing started weeks before we pulled out from Letcher County. Once we arrived in camp, I don’t recall leaving until we headed back.
My first venture with them was in 1958. I was thrilled to go to a place my dad called Heaven on Earth.
Squirrel season doesn’t have the same meaning now as it once had. Hunters have bent toward deer, black bear, elk and turkey.
I tried last year to gather some of the younger group together to hunt after a 20-year absence, but I just could not get it together.
So this year, I will go it alone, maybe with my brother, Rick. I look forward to going one last time, and getting back to what started my journey in a life I call hunting.
I will give you a full report next week. Till then, stay safe, and please take a child hunting.