Opening Day Preparations

By Thomas K. Remington
(Part 2 of Fall Senses)

In my last article I wrote about the overpowering senses and the association that odors render our brains leading up to early November when hunting season in Maine begins. Along with that come the preparations for opening day.

I remember as a young boy what a big deal it was to get ready. As many of us know – that is if we will admit – getting ready for opening day of deer season takes only a matter of perhaps an hour or two depending upon how well organized an individual is but spending that short amount of time just wouldn’t cut it. It’s not like getting ready to mow the front lawn or change the oil in your truck. Things such as those are chores and we reserve the right to keep our preparation and execution time to an absolute minimum. No, planning and preparing for the big day takes a lot of time.

We are very much like the monster bucks that roam the Maine landscapes. The signals are all there telling us winter is approaching and with it comes hunting season. I have even heard it likened to the primitive man when he hunted for mere survival. The drive or the instinct becomes so strong in some that deer sweet women that are married to such obsessed “Neanderthals” completely lose their mates until well into December. Some are so overcome with drive they wear their hunting hat year around. They carry their rifles in the back window of their pick-up trucks all the time and if you follow them home you’ll discover that they keep a permanent replica of their favorite tree stand erected in the back yard. For some it is a “swing set” for their kids. Is there an explanation for this behavior?

Well, there is an explanation but one that some feel doesn’t hold much water. Those are the people who haven’t experienced this tradition. One of the first things is to visit every store within 75 miles that carries any kind of hunting gear – preferably the specialty hunting stores like Kittery Trading Post, L.L. Beans or L.L. Cotes just to name a few. But don’t forget the little guy down the street. He needs your business too but if you are like me, most of the time I can only afford Walmart.

No hunter would dare step foot into the woods without first knowing every latest gadget man has created for you to carry with you on your quest for the big one. It is extremely difficult for me to understand how man ever survived in the years past. They must have spent weeks and perhaps months hunting deer because they didn’t have all that we do today to assist us in bagging game. How did they do it? They didn’t have “scent free” clothing, GPS, range finders, game cameras, radios, sophisticated game calls and the like. It must have been excruciatingly difficult.

For many hunters the visits to the stores prior to opening day is to ready themselves with the basics. A new pair of hunting boots is in order along with an insulated flannel shirt and hunting pants. You probably will throw in a box of new shells – just in case. Whatever your needs are for getting ready, it takes several days and several trips to all the right stores.

I am quite convinced as well that while you are shopping for all the “necessary” items you will encounter some of your buddies doing the same thing and of course this will lead to story telling. The “honey, I’m going to run over to Cabelas for a minute and pick up a box of shells”, turns into a several hour excursion and she knew it before you left. My point is that along with the shopping comes the need to tell stories about hunting. It monopolizes nearly every conversation at work and at the sporting goods stores.

I am sure that every one of us has our little rituals that we go through in preparations for opening day. As the day nears, the nighttime pacing begins and during the daylight ours we gaze into the fields and the woods. It becomes more and more difficult to concentrate at work. One fellow told me that around October 15th each year his right index finger would begin to twitch uncontrollably at times.

As time draws ever closer, we begin the final preparations. At night after supper we throw an extra log on the fire and go in search of our favorite hunting knife – the one that your father gave you that was his grandfathers. You bring it out into the living room and you gather you children around and you tell them as many stories as you can remember that were told to you about that knife. The children sit in amazement. They believe somehow that the knife holds magical powers and they realize that someday they may be the one to sit where their dad is sitting and tell the stories, so they listen more intently.

After the stories, you pull out the old oilstone that also once belonged to grandfather and you work on putting an edge on the old knife. The urges to get out into the woods grow with every passing hour. The ritual of bringing out items of past hunts and all the gear you think you will carry in your survival pack is passed on as well. Even though you may not be aware every one of your children are watching all that you do and they will repeat it. That is what makes it special.

Myself, I save the best for last:

The Gun and The Knife
By Thomas K. Remington

“Tis the night before hunting and all through my house
We had just finished supper - potatoes and grouse
The weather outside was cloudy and cold
Perhaps we’d have snow like opening days of old

I grabbed an oak log and tossed it on the fire
I called to my son so we could conspire
I asked him to go and find grandpa’s knife
The stories it held were bigger than life

Every year they are shared with my family by me
In hopes that traditions live long and are free
Most precious to me and someday my son
Is the old Winchester - it was Daddy’s gun

Whenever I hold it it speaks to me
I remember the hunts with just him and just me
It’s what bound us together and made us as one
He left us too early his work was not done

To clean the rifle the eve before
Is tradition I’ll keep forever more
As my son watches he too shall learn
That someday it will be his turn

Pay close attention my oldest son
Someday here my work will be done
The knife and gun aren’t just a toy
It’s important to me what you teach your boy

Keep the traditions and pass them on
So that when the day comes and I am gone
You can sit in my chair and hold the knife
And tell of the stories that were bigger than life