Matty Thornton was an avid hunter and outdoorsman, having been enamored with the sport for as long as he could remember. As is the case for a great many people like Matty, he was introduced to the wonderful world of hunting by his father. It was a tradition that reached as far back as the Thornton lineage reached, passed from one generation to the next. Some of his earliest memories could be traced back to time spent with his old man in the deer woods and the turkey woods, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their intended quarry. He could never forget the time he shot his first deer, a dinky little fork horn spike buck. To see the way his dad reacted, however, you would have thought they had just nailed a 200-inch Boone & Crockett monster. There was also his first long beard turkey the next spring, of which his proud father boasted with pride to any poor fool that would listen on countless occasions. Matty was, and still is to this day, forever grateful for his father for teaching him how to hunt and shoot and bringing him up in the outdoors.
But now it was Matty’s turn to pass on the family tradition. A grown man with a young son of his own, he was ready to get his little boy in the woods with him, and today was finally the day. He had spent weeks in eager anticipation, excited to get to share his passion with his own flesh and blood. His wife Taylor on the other hand was not nearly as thrilled with the idea, but she understood that for as much as Matty loved to hunt it was only inevitable that little Jack would eventually come to love it as well. And so she reluctantly agreed to allow him to take mama’s little angel away from her in the wee hours of the morning, demanding on no uncertain terms that they BE CAREFUL and remember to have fun. After all, they would only be a few hundred yards away from the house, tucked into the stand of timber on the back side of their pasture. She also made Matty promise to have Jack back in time for lunch, which she would have ready and waiting when they returned.
Silencing the alarm moments before it sounded, Matty rolled out of bed already wide awake. Sleep didn’t come easy amidst the combination of usual excitement of getting to go hunting and the new sort of anxious excitement of getting to take Jack out for the very first time. He sauntered down the hall to Jack’s room, poking his head in and flipping on the light switch, illuminating the room messy with toys and dirty clothes. They’d both undoubtedly get an earful from Taylor later in the afternoon, as the living room was equally as cluttered with Matty’s hunting gear. He had spent most of the prior evening trying to find the right combination of layers of hunting clothes to ensure that Jack was properly dressed for the chilly November morning ahead.
“Jack, buddy, time to get up, you ready to go get us a big buck?” Matty almost whispered as he gently nudged his sleeping child, in an attempt to not wake Taylor.
For all his ability to not sleep through the night as an infant, Jack could sure sleep like a log now. He eventually came around to consciousness, albeit reluctantly, seemingly confused about what was going on but slowly growing more eager and excited about this new adventure daddy was taking him on. As he crawled out of bed Jack latched on to Matty’s arm in a request to be carried to the living room by his dad, who happily obliged, setting him down on the couch before stepping into the kitchen to prepare some Pop-Tarts for breakfast. It was a quick and simple manner of fueling up before the hunt, with little time for preparing their usual morning meal of eggs and sausage and a fruit cup. Whatever nutrition they lacked that morning would be made up for with the hearty lunch Taylor had promised, so the Pop-Tarts would have to suffice.
Matty quickly scarfed down his breakfast, urging Jack to eat his faster. Matty understood the importance of getting out to the woods before daylight, but couldn’t find the right way to convey that message to his son. The next step was getting Jack dressed, which presented its own set of challenges. He had his own cold weather base layers, thermal underwear, a long sleeved shirt, etc. But they had yet to invest in appropriately sized camouflage pants and a coat for little Jack, an oversight that Matty would certainly be tackling after today. After a few attempts at it, however, they were able to come up with a functional yet goofy looking combination of layers to do the trick. The slight delay was enough though to result in the pair stepping out the back door just as the first light of day was starting to creep across the landscape.
By the time they reached the other side of the pasture, legal shooting hours had already begun. The only conceivable advantage to their tardiness was that it was a little bit easier navigating their way through the trees. Finding a good oak not far from a well-used deer path along the bottom of the hill next to the dry creek bed, Matty commenced to attaching his climber stand and getting ready for the ascent while Jack gazed around in curiosity, already peppering Matty with questions. While he was grateful for the opportunity to teach Jack and help him better understand what exactly was going on, Matty was becoming irritated with having to constantly remind Jack to whisper as his excitement would progressively carry his unending stream of quips and questions louder and louder.
With the climber attached to the tree and his backpack secured to his back, Matty lifted Jack onto the base at his feet so that they were facing the tree with his legs behind Jack’s and his arms around him. He started by lifting the top piece higher up the tree and then pulling the bottom section up with his legs. Under normal circumstances just getting up the tree was a bit of a workout for Matty, but with the added awkward weight of Jack at his feet it was proving to be an even more strenuous task than usual. After only a few feet of inching their way up the tree, the bottom part of the climber started to slip and slide back down the trunk. Matty tried again to pull it up to him to no avail.
Of course, just our luck this morning. Matty thought to himself as he came to the realization that with the combined weight him, his gear, and his boy, it was just enough to exceed the limitations of the climber. They’d have to resort to hunting from the ground, preferably tucked into some cover. He set Jack back down on the ground and quickly detached the stand, leaning the separated pieces against the tree. He could come back for it later that afternoon, perhaps while Jack took his post-lunch nap. Now Matty needed to figure out where they would set up, figuring he could find a spot on the ground somewhere along the trail that would provide enough cover for the both of them.
“Jack, I need you to wait here and watch our stuff while I go find us a new spot.” Matty instructed Jack as he took off his pack and laid his bow on top of it.
He figured it would be much quicker to seek out some cedars or the branches of a downed tree that they could tuck into without Jack distracting him, and he could clear out the leaf litter uninterrupted, and then he could come back and collect Jack and the gear. Of course by now the woods were illuminated by the full daylight of morning. So much for being set up in time for that prime first hour of hunting. Nonetheless, Matty could see plenty well enough to search out a good alternative hunting spot for the morning. Meanwhile Jack was now fully enamored with the sights and sounds of the wilderness, but also cautious not to abandon dad’s gear, which had also begun to pique his interest. He stood there awkwardly bundled and trying not to shiver in the brisk morning breeze, fearful that any indication of discomfort would cause his dad to nix their adventure and take him back to the house.
Matty worked his way along the trail, scouting for their new spot, looking back just to keep an eye on Jack. He was only about 40 yards away when he glanced in the boy’s direction, catching a glimpse of movement along the top of the hill above. His heart just about came to a screeching halt and his eyes exploded to the size of saucers as he realized what he was seeing.
Bobcat!
Matty quickly raced back to his son, throwing on his pack and taking Jack’s hand.
“Come on, stay close.” He did his best to conceal his panic.
Normally, the sight of a bobcat wouldn’t be much of a bother to Matty. They were naturally elusive critters, generally more interested in escaping grown adults than confronting them. But Jack was still small enough that it seemed feasible for such a predator to potentially attack, being more equally matched in size. Still, it was enough to send Matty into full red alert and keep Jack close by the rest of the morning. Luckily for Matty, Jack was blissfully unaware of the bobcat and beyond elated to be ushered along in search of a new hunting spot.
They nestled into the branches of a tight thicket of cedars, providing a thick enough cover to conceal the both of them but also not providing much room to maneuver, which Matty prayed would restrict Jack’s movement when he was to inevitably become restless during the hunt. The cedar branches would also help block any wind from chilling them into giving up the hunt too early, although it was pretty calm down in the bottom of the draw and wind wasn’t likely to be a factor anyway.
As the morning carried on, so did Jack’s restlessness. Every time a squirrel went crashing through the leaves or a bird went whistling by, Jack would jump with excitement and turn his whole body toward the commotion despite Matty’s repeated instructions to stay still and only look with his eyes. At one point Matty thought he might’ve heard a deer walking around behind them, but before he could make a more concise determination Jack had spun completely around pushed the branches of their cover down to better investigate the noise.
Jack finally started to settle down around 10:30, probably more so from getting tired than anything. After finally experiencing about 15 minutes of motionless silence Matty felt Jack, who had one arm wrapped around his leg, fall away from him and THUMP down to the ground. Matty looked down to see a confused yet embarrassed look on Jack’s face as he tried to make sense of what had just happened to him.
“Dad, my eyes went fuzzy and I fell”
“Stand up, buddy, you’re okay. That’s why I told you to keep your knees bent. That’s what happens when you lock your legs.” Matty did his best to reassure Jack and explain what he had just gone through, although he’s not sure Jack fully understood. He at least understood the part about keeping his knees bent, because the rest of the morning he stood next to Matty bouncing up and down like a bobber on a choppy lake.
Conceding that seeing a deer had become all but unlikely and sensing Jack’s exploding restlessness, Matty decided that the morning’s hunt should probably come to its unceremonious conclusion. Besides, Taylor probably had that big lunch spread just about ready to eat and he’d rather not catch an earful for keeping Jack out in the cold too long. Matty shouldered his bag and took his bow in one hand while holding Jack’s with the other, and they made their way up the hill and back across the pasture to the house, leaving the climber at the base of the oak they had originally tried to hunt out of. Matty figured he would slip back out after lunch while Jack took a much needed nap.
Despite not harvesting or even seeing a deer, Matty knew he’d never forget that morning for the rest of his life. The opportunity to pass on his passion for hunting to his own flesh and blood was a momentous occasion in and of itself, but the magnitude of that was driven home when his little Jack looked at him and said, “Thanks for taking me hunting with you today dad.”
The Hunting Lodge 