I often tell people that, while I do not hunt, I come from a family with deep hunting traditions. This is my way of defraying the perplexed looks I get from my Iron Range/Northern Minnesota brethren who can’t understand a guy who lives here but doesn’t hunt OR fish. Really, I have nothing against hunting. It’s just that I never really wanted to take it up. It’s expensive, cold and the tree stand method of hunting whitetail always struck me as being more like assassination than sport.
Well, I talked to my dad the other night and decided that it’s time I tried the hunting shack experience. Like most northern Minnesota families with hunting shacks, actual hunting is only a small part of the itinerary at the shack. BSing, drinking, and riding machines over and into inanimate objects round out the schedule. I haven’t decided if I’m actually going to hunt or just take in the experience, but I need to go see for myself these family traditions I’ve heard about my whole life. No doubt you’ll here more about this before and after deer season.
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