Today was one of those picture postcard perfection autumn days in the mountains. Cliche, yes, but true. If I were a half-way decent writer, I would have sat down today and wrote an epic poem or a short story, something along the lines of Hawthorne, Washington Irving, or Thoreau. But I'm not, and instead I was inspired to build deer stands.
When I was in high school, Dad and I built a little permanent stand on top of the mountain on the far side of the property. But the stand has fallen into decay over the last ten years or so. But the frame was still solid and it's in a prime location to catch an old buck running a doe along the ridge lines during the rut. So with the help of Joe, Dad, Ben and Jake, I spent the afternoon, reviving an old hunting spot.
We put a new floor down in the stand, firmed up the framework and strung some fresh camo. In a couple of short hours we had a brand spanking new stand up, ready to pop some whitetails in the coming weeks.
The last few months have been pretty stressful to say the least. The new job has been pretty intense. But spending the afternoon thirty feet up an old red oak, pounding fresh 16 penny nails into pine 2 x 6's and feeling the warm November sun on my back was just what the doctor ordered.
Plan on sitting this stand in about two weeks with my Fred Bear in my hand.
