Hunters, Hunted

 

It was October 31st, 1991, a Thursday. I sat in my last class of the day and all I could focus on was this weekend, I was going bowhunting with my dad, Chuck, in northern Minnesota. Every year on the first weekend of November my dad and I go hunting with two of my dads friends, Brian and Steve, both in their 40s as well my dad. I’m 15 and have been going along on this hunting trip since I was 12. What makes it even more fun is that my birthday is on November 4th. So a good birthday gift would be a nice sized deer.

I loved this trip and so did the rest of the guys, for them it was four days out of the house and away from the wives, for me it was a Friday and a Monday off of school. Our hunting shack was about two and a half hours away from home in the small town of Leader, MN. Speaking of small, our shack fit about six guys with three bunk beds. On top of how small our shack was, we had no electricity, besides the battery powered lamps and radio, which barely picked up any radio signal due to the remote location of the shack.

The ringing sound of the school bell awoke me from my daydream and I was already at my locker and out the door to meet my dad who was waiting for me. The drive began, and in went my earbuds and I was out like a light.

I woke up to us driving down the minimum maintenance dirt road to get to our shack. Talk about a bumpy ride, it felt like we were driving over a rock pit. We after a few miles we turned off onto another dirt road, this one a little smoother. Finally we reached the camp, this place was secluded. Camp was a good 7 miles from the nearest paved road. Every road until then was dirt and sand, not even gravel.

By the time we got to the shack Brian and Steve were already there and had unloaded their luggage.

"Need some help unloading?" Brian asked.

"That'd be nice, yeah," I replied.

Once everything was unloaded the guys and I sat around for a while and decided who was going to be hunting and where they were going to be sitting.

"Well I think I'll hunt here by the shack, down in the swamp where I set up last year," said Steve.

"Alright, sounds good. I'll try the stand by Gate 1," replied Brian, “there’s two blinds that we set up at Gate for yesterday if you want.”

"Well I s’pose we’ll hunt the old logging land down there by Gate 4 Cody," said Chuck.

"Gate 4? Isn't that like 5 miles away from the shack?" Asked Cody.

"Around that, and our ground blinds are about 1/2 of a mile into the woods, off of the dirt road," Chuck replied.

"I'll give you guys a ride on the four wheeler to Gate 3 so you won't have to walk so far," said Brian.

Soon, as we always did, we were playing cards. By now it was 8 p.m. and we decided to turn out our little battery powered lamps. Before we knew it it was 5 a.m. and time to eat and head out. We gathered up our weapons and walked out of the warm comfort of the shack into the elements. There was an eerie silence in the dark morning hours. The cold nipped at each spot of flesh left uncovered. We hopped on the wheeler and went to Gate 3, tears formed and nearly froze on my cheeks as we drove. Once Brian dropped my dad and I off at Gate 3 we started our walk down the road and into the woods. The walk was rigorous work but it was also the only thing keeping me warm. The heavy machinery used for logging had created ruts in the once soft earth, making it difficult to maneuver through the logged forest. Although the walk was tough work, we made it to the thick of the woods where the loggers had not gotten to and we were in our blinds before sunrise. We had our eyes peeled.

Hearing nothing, we sat until 10 a.m. and then decided to walk back to the shack, the full 6 miles. On our walk back to the shack we didn't see much, but it had started to drizzle, almost in a mist. We got back to camp around 11:30 a.m. as the misty rain turned to light flurries and sat around and joked with each other for a while.

"Saw two does and a fawn, quite small, somethin' spooked them though and they took off towards you Brian," said Steve.

"Well at least we're seeing em'. We'll have to see how this evening goes. I've got a funny feeling about tonight but I'm hoping it's a good one," Brian replied.

"Remember to dress warm tonight boys. Before I left the wife said we were supposed to get some rain but it’s gettin’ pretty cold now. Looks to be snowin’ already," said Steve.

And with that, we all dozed off until about 2 PM. When we woke, the flurries turned to snow. After a short discussion, we all agreed to hunt in the same places that evening. Just like this morning Brian gave us a ride to Gate 3 and said, "Steve and I are going to head in at around 5 to go get some food and a drink in town at The Bear's Den Bar."

"Alright, Cody and I were planning on walking back after dark. We’ll just stay at the shack then," said Chuck

“Sounds good, we’ll bring back a burger for ya guys.”

“Looking forward to it, keep it warm would ya?”

“Yeah we’ll see Chuck, shoot a deer,” joked Brian.

After the discussion my dad and I were off on our long walk into the woods, this time there was about an inch of snow to get through. My blind was about 100 yards deeper into the woods than my dad's was. I got to my ground blind and looked in my dad's direction, there was a good amount of trees and forest growth between us. I couldn't see him whatsoever. I sat for about five minutes, then it began to snow a little harder.

"Good thing I've got about 10 layers on and these new gloves," I muttered quietly to myself.

I sat there wondering when the snow was going to let up. I checked my watch and saw that it was already 5 o'clock. Prime time for archery hunting. I sat, bow in hand, waiting for a deer to step into my shooting lane. Suddenly the silence was broken by a twig snap, no further than 50 yards away stood the deer I was bound to shoot. I waited for it to trot within shooting range. Finally it stood broadside, I raised my bow thinking, "I have one shot and one shot only, don't miss. DON'T MISS." This buck was huge, a solid ten point rack with a good spread and long tines. I thought, "Deep breath, aim, let it fly."

“Th-ewwp” The arrow flung from my bow and flew through the snowflakes, silently, impaling the deer and sending it running. I heard some twigs snap followed by the deer crashing down. I sat, in silence, and waited for the deer to bleed out. I didn’t wait for long and turned around to see the flashlight bobbing towards me.

"See anything?" Asked my dad.

"Shot one about 30 minutes ago! Let's go check for blood," I said.

Sure enough, about five yards from where the deer was shot was a blood trail, thick too. That is when I realized that 3 inches of snow had fallen already and the temperature was dropping. Despite the snow and dropping temperature, we began following the blood trail into the woods and sure enough after about 50 yards of walking laid my dead deer. It already had a light coating of snow over it.

"Your deer, you gut it," said my dad.

"Yeah, I know… thanks," I muttered.

I got my knife out and began the process which would likely take longer in the dark with a single dinky flashlight. I was midway through gutting this deer when a gut wrenching howl overcame the silence of the wilderness. Wolves. My hairs stood on end. I became nervous thinking of the nearby predators.

"Just gut the deer Cody. Don't worry about them," said my dad.

"A-alright, I'll hurry," I managed to say.

"These wolves are close, within 1/2 of a mile. There is absolutely no way they can't smell this deer's blood." I thought to myself.

I looked down at my hands, they were covered in blood. I knew that anywhere I went, those wolves would smell it. What was I supposed to do!? We had two choices: Abandon the biggest deer of my life and start the walk back to camp, or finish gutting and drag the deer half a mile to the logging road to pick up with the wheeler later that night IF the wolves didn’t get to it first.

Finally, I finished gutting it and we started dragging it towards the logging road. We walked about 20 yards and I stopped to get a better grip. I heard a low growl, turning slowly, I lifted up my flashlight and stared into the eyes of a wolf standing no more than 15 feet away from me.

"Don't move," whispered my dad.

I stood there, trembling, heart pounding out of my chest waiting for the wolf to react. But with a mean snarl and a growl, the wolf took off, away from us. It had ran back towards the road.

"We can’t drag this deer all the way to the road, we’ll just walk to the wolves," I said.

"I know," says my dad, "and this snow isn't helping us either."

"What do we do!? Steve and Brian are at the bar and we are stranded in the middle of the woods!” I said.

"Calm down," yelled my dad, "we need to figure out a plan. I know that about half a mile deeper in the woods there is an old logging trail with a box stand alongside of it that doesn't get used anymore. We can go there and spend the night, or make the six mile hike back to the shack without the deer."

"In this snowstorm!?"

"Yes, our ch-" my dad began but was interrupted by the howls of the whole pack of wolves.

"Our chances are better if we stay in the stand, you're covered in blood, there's no way we'd make it 6 miles without those wolves after us. Especially in this blizzard," My dad continued.

"We've got to move quick, you've got to trust me. Let's go." he said. I remembered that I had a small survival blanket in my backpack. This would come in handy staying in the box stand, being it didn't have a roof. We began walking through the forest, deeper into the woods, we needed to find that old logging trail.

After what seemed like forever of trudging through this nearly 7 inch deep snow we heard the wolves howl near where we left the deer.

"That should give us some time Cody, but we can't slow down." said Chuck.

Finally, we reached an opening in the woods and what looked like the old logging trail. The snow made it difficult to see, but we knew the box stand was on the left side of the trail.

I heard growls behind us, and told my dad to notch an arrow just in case. I turned and saw 2 wolves charging us.

"Dad!!!!! Shoot!!!!" I yelled. I saw him turn, raise his bow and shoot at the first wolf about 20 yards away from him. I knew he hit it when I saw the wolf nearly somersault twice. The second wolf was scared off and retreated into the woods.

We ran down the trail, searching for the stand with our light. Through the flakes I saw it. I climbed up the ladder as my dad stood on guard, as quickly as I could, I wiped all the snow out of the stand. Then I yelled for my dad to come up. He was in the stand in a heartbeat and there was just enough room for the both of us. We threw the survival blanket over us and my dad said, "Now we gotta wait it out. The guys will come for us, it may not be until tomorrow morning but they’ll come. We need to stay warm and stay calm, the wolves are no longer a threat."

We stayed very close to each other throughout the night to share body heat. As I was about to close my eyes I heard them. The wolves were directly under the stand. Again, with a few growls, the wolves were gone. After I knew I was safe, I closed my eyes, attempting to get some sleep. The blanket kept us quite warm, though the stand was very uncomfortable. I struggled to sleep, drifting from slumber to wakefulness. This continued until it got light out, but it was still snowing. I shook the few inches of snow off of the blanket. My dad was already awake.

"The guys have to be so worried, they must've been looking for us," said Chuck.

We climbed down from the stand, our bodies were stiff from the night. Thinking we were safe, we started walking the logging trail back, trying to follow our trail that was matted with even more snow, it was at least a foot deep by now. We came across the carcass of the wolf, arrow still froze into the body. We sat and caught our breath, our stomachs grumbled. Out of nowhere we heard the hum of a snowmobile, no, a few snowmobiles. They were getting closer! We started yelling, soon the snowmobiles were coming down the logging trail. The sleds came right up to us. It turned out to be Brian, Steve, and six other guys, mostly County Sheriff’s. We shared hugs with our friends and Steve said, "We got back at around 9 last night and when you weren’t at the shack I tried driving down to Gate 4 but my truck got stuck in the snow. I tried taking the wheeler after that and then I got stuck with that too. we decided to wait for you guys to get back but when it got to be around 10 o’clock we drove back into town and called the Sheriff's department. With the blizzard last night they couldn't do anything so they promised us a Search and Rescue Crew first thing in the morning. That was the best we could do."

“Hey man, we’re alive,” said Chuck.

We hopped on the snowmobiles and headed back to our camp. Once we got back to the shack the Sheriff’s checked us out and said that my dad and I both suffered from mild frostbite on our faces, luckily it wasn't severe.

After we were treated we told our story to the guys and the Search Crew.

"You guys are extremely lucky that you survived. Had it not been for that survival blanket and your proper equipment and clothing, there is no possible way you would have made it through that night, let alone being attacked by the wolves," added one of the Sheriff’s.

My dad and I got some rest while Steve and Brian kept us warm and even made us soup. The Rescue Crew had left by now and we decided to go back to the hunting land of Gate 4. This time on snowmobiles. We came upon the deer carcass. Or what was left of it. Every limb was dismembered and the only thing left was the head and rack.

"Well at least we can keep that!" My dad joked.

The guys and I laughed. Then we headed towards the old logging trail where we took refuge. We showed the guys the dead wolf, and explained what had happened. We decided to leave it lay and headed back to camp, more soup was waiting for us anyways.

“What a great birthday gift.” I laughed.