The Wall Tent: Part II

On this morning I awake up to a faint cold breeze slipping under the tent’s wall. As I grip the inner lining of my sleeping bag, roll over, and try to shield myself, I yearn for just a few more hours. The dog, curled into a ball and shivering ever so lightly, is sleeping just beyond my pillow. I reach over to begin sifting through me clothes and look for my watch. It’s 5:15 AM. At this point, Farley is staring me straight at me and my mind begins to wander. I hate to admit it but the signs are obvious, it’s time to get up, time to start the fire, time to get moving.

I put on the same pants that I’ve worn the entire week, check to see if my boots and socks have dried, and let the little one out. Upon returning, now fully awake, Farley begins to find others to encourage. He sneaks around the burn barrel, slips under the table, and eases in towards James, his tail whacking against the side of the tent. James acknowledges his presence, to his utter delight, and he is up. Mike soon follows and with a few jokes the stove is quickly turned on and the sizzle of the frying pan breaks the morning silence. The smell of eggs and sausage fills the air and a breakfast worthy of any deer camp is prepared. The morning, is officially underway.

The wall tent will be the epicenter for what takes place over the days and weeks ahead. With its character it is undoubtedly the focal point of any trip and motivation enough to leave home. To come up to this place there is no particular requirement except that you have to love what you’re doing. The wall tent isn’t for those looking to sit around, drink themselves silly, and be lazy all weekend. The wall tent requires maintenance, it requires a state of mind and knowing that to be up there you need to be part of a collective. There’s no room for those looking to cut corners or skirt by. The camp works because everyone loves to hunt, loves to get their hands dirty, and wants the trip to be successful in whatever form that may be.

I have now been to the wall tent two years in a row and I hope that as we approach winter this year I will have another chance. It would be an understatement to say that every time I am up there my hunting is benefited in one way or another. Last year Mike and James were both able to take bucks off the mountain and I was given my first introduction to properly cleaning a deer. Mike made the movements and motions looks easy, using his knife to slowly pick his way around the animal and remove the hide. It was a day I’ll keep with me for years to come. Their shared knowledge is something I continually try to learn from and having a controlled hunt point myself this year, the likelihood of drawing a buck tag and returning to camp for my own hunt has me counting down the months until fall.

The daylight hours away from camp offer mixed opportunities and weather. With the skies opening and closing there are moments when the mountain is visible for all to see. In others, snow and fog close in, making progress difficult. Windswept ridges make passage along some roads questionable and the occasional shot ringing out has you second guessing your chosen strategy. You labor through snow drifts and hear branches breaking off in the distance. You slow down, stop talking, and move with purpose. In the end, sometimes your find the source and other times not, but each time your heart begins to race.

There’s no playbook for hunting and there’s no definitive way to go about finding your animal. It requires instincts and intuition. It requires focus and your presence in the woods. You have to have the right frame of mind and the wall tent does its best at night to prepare you.

It’s these challenges and misadventures that make the outing and stay in the woods what it is. It’s the consecutive days out in the forest. The lack of any break in the atmosphere causes the days to quickly run together, each one with its own story. Your pants are dirty, your sweatshirts ripped and the knowledge that you only have one more pair of clean socks is a mere afterthought. You’ve come out here for one reason, to hunt and commit yourself in both time and space. In the end, that’s what it’s all about.

Whenever I go back I know I’ll be the better for it. I know that when I come down that long forest road I’ll smile once again. The instant you arrive on that first day you know you have returned. You know what is ahead of you and all your worries and cares are left at the bottom of the mountain. Were this tent to be one of new age material and the latest technology it would without doubt be completely different. It’s the green, tired material, it’s the barrel fires, it’s the late night anecdotes. It’s a wall tent unlike any other and I hope that someday before that tent is retired it finds its way to us. I hope we can continue to build on the tradition that Mike started so many years ago because, in the end, it is that tradition that will be passed down. It is that tradition that generations to come will cling to.

Buck Tags - November 2011:

Sunset at Camp: