2008 Man camp opened with the usual 7 hour trip to Deep Lake in far NE Washington State. Vince and I endured hour upon hour of tall tales from Dave, who is temporarily (so he says anyways) living on the public dole. The Obama-Biden 2008 bumper sticker on his truck probably tells the true story
Eventually, they got to within 100 yards of me and suddenly freaked and took off to the right. One doe flew over the fence and was gone, while the spike and other doe stopped, staring over towards Dave's area (found out later that two bucks had come out in front of him). Then the spike laid down again. A few minutes later, I heard a rifle shot from Dave's direction. I looked over that direction and saw a couple of deer standing around wondering what the heck that was. My spike stood up, and I decided to take it. I pressed the trigger, only to hear the proverbial loudest sound in a gunfight... "click". "Uh, I know I put a round in the chamber..." Racked that one out, put another in, and pressed... Boom! A Brown and White pile on the ground at 185 yards! Another shot from Dave, and I saw deer scattering. It was then that I made my error as I said, "I got mine." Wouldn't have been bad except Vince was there to change the intent and meaning of my innocent statement. Of course it instantly became the "it's all about me" trip. Even after I went over to help Dave look for a trail (Did I mention he missed by a wide margin? "Canadian officials are searching for the source of two artillery rounds which struck a church steeple in downtown Kamploops this evening...") Sure, it wasn't his fault, it was the new gizmo on his scope... Whatever Dave... As I walked over to check my deer, Vince was already there and says to me, "I thought you said you shot the spike?" I did... "Uh, you shot the doe..." What? "It's ok man, it's camp meat..." A couple of seconds ( and a foul word or two) later I saw the antlers. I shall not forgive him anytime soon. Anyways, I got mine!
did a fine job of frying up my deer heart for dinner. By the way, I'd be happy to help anyone with disposal of elk or deer heart they might have lying around!
So, the next morning we got Dave's scope dialed in while Vince torched piles of garbage, processed wood products, and endangered wolf carcasses on his property...(hope the Ecology Department and Fish and Game don't hear about that Vince!) It was only off about three feet high at 20 yards. I still don't know how he missed at 60 yards! Nothing much happened that day after that. Sure we went hunting, but nothing eventful happened. Oh wait, my camera fell out of the truck and no longer works. Yea! So, not many photos from the rest of the trip.... Oh, and then there was the "Sleepy Vince" incident in the middle of the field... Thursday at about noon, it started snowing. We set up again, and as luck would have it, a suicidal 1X2 buck stepped in front of Dave. Dave managed to put it down at about a yard with the butt of his rifle... Ok, really about 185 yards. He was actually aiming at a fawn about 10 yards away, missed, and the stray round struck this poor bastard in the ass. Died of blood loss from a punctured hemorrhoid...Hey, wait a second, where's Dave's blaze orange?

Can you tell we had a good time?