Deer Hunting in Michigan's Upper Peninsula

For almost 30 years of my life I have had the pleasure of hunting for deer in the mystical woods of Michigan's Upper Peninsula. I was first introduced to the experience by my late father, whom I later named my only child after, in 1979. My dad had hunted most of his life for deer and was born in a front room of a house that we pasted by ever year on our way to "deer camp"! The hundreds of stories I had heard of camp life that I now tell me 11 year old son about are something I wish everyone could experience.

First of all the camp is 515 miles from our house in the " Lower" Peninsula. Although the trip in my youth seemed liked forever, once I was in camp it always would go by too fast. The preparation is too long for me to write about. Trying to make a list and check it twice is unbelievable! My dad being a professional businessman always would say that once we crossed the Mackinaw bridge it was time to ____ off! My first year in camp I learned the hard way never to ask for a Turkey sandwich after the cook spent 5 hours preparing Thanksgiving dinner. For the rest of camp I had to do the dishes because I insulted his meal by asking to make a sandwich out of a beautifully cook bird!

I learned that year of the legend of " Rotten Ralph", a man born and raised in the tough weather conditions of the Upper Peninsula. This rather large intimidating man was a gentle giant with an unmatched vocabulary! Although I learned to respect nature and all it's creatures from my dad and Rotten Ralph, I also learned to speak with a sailor's tongue. Even though I didn't get to harvest a deer my first eight years I was able to cherish the time with all the characters that make up camp life. Since many of the oldtimers have past including my dad, I hope to carry on the tradition with my son in the great white north called the Upper Peninsula deer camp!