Like most guys, the most influential person in my hunting has been my dad. He is not the best hunter, he is not even what I consider a good hunter, but the times we have shared together in the woods are more precious to me than ever bagging a monster buck.
My dad was "old school" when it came to raising his kids. He had a heavy hand and a quick temper. There weren’t a bunch of hugs and "I love yous" thrown around our house. He may not have said it in words, but when deer season came around his actions said so much more about how he felt as a father.

I will never forget being a little kid and sitting in the truck to share a hot cup of coffee after a morning hunt, or how I felt the day he surprised me with my first shotgun. Looking back on it now, I don’t believe hunts for him were actually about shooting deer, but more about sharing time with each other. He was with me the day I finally harvested my first deer and the look in his eyes showed more pride than any words he could say.
He is overseas now and I miss my hunting partner and my friend. I have just recently moved to the great state of PA and my hunting trips are a little lonelier now. When I settle into my tree stand I close me eyes and let all those great feelings and memories come flooding back.

This November we will going to camp together during rifle season. When the sun starts to peak over the treetops and the wind howls on the mountain side, I know which stand I will choose to take. It will be right next to him, because for me it won’t be about shooting a deer, but spending time with him and that is just what I am going to tell him.

Wayne