First Blood

I forgot to mention that while we were engaged in the fierce pitcher killing championship Monday night, John got a call from his youngest boy Zack. Seems Zack had just gotten his first deer with a bow and needed Dad to come out and give him a hand. So John left the bar and went to the woods to help his son in what was sure to be a memory making experience for both of them. These are the kind of moments that make me regret not having a child.

I remember my first bow killed deer and how I was so proud of that accomplishment. Thing is, there was nobody around to share my excitement. My Dad was, and still is, the 180 degree opposite of myself, and had never hunted a day in his life. Nobody congratulated me or encouraged me to retell the story over and over, and no one could quite understand my excitement let alone share in it.

Zack and John are completely different. They are attached at the hip when it comes to outdoors pursuits. Zack learns from John, and in turn John learns from Zack. This is a great start for a young hunter, and that quite frankly I wished I had also had.