This is the time of year when the great memories of the past come flooding back in full Technicolor. I had to go back in our hunting archives to find this 1977 photo of Norm Ansel and his “boys!” This was the last bear hunt my dad went on, and also the last picture of him with the six of us. That small bear hanging on the pole was Dad’s one and only bear, but to us it was big enough. The mount is proudly displayed on the den wall of my brother Randy’s house, who was with dad when he shot his bear.
In looking at this picture I remembered that dad never donned one stick of camouflage during his hunting exploits. In fact I wouldn’t be surprises if he didn’t wear the outfit he had on, in the picture, for the days hunt! The big hunting marketing machine was just starting to roll, back in those days, but dad liked to keep it simple. Plop down by a stump, or put a big tree to your back, and watch a well used game trail; was his tried and true method of putting meat in the freezer. Baiting was for those rich “sissy’s” who owned private fenced in hunt clubs, and only left the cabin long enough to shoot one over a mountain of bait. Dad liked to sit for the first two days of season, but by day three we were doing “deer” drives! Because there were plenty of us in the woods a deer drive most always paid off. I distinctly remember a nice six pointer dad dropped with an all out running shot during one of those drives. The last deer he shot was an 11 pointer that won the big buck contest in Lewiston Michigan. He was watching a game trail!
Dad didn’t shoot a buck every year, but he sure enjoyed the season and all the great things that went with it. Taking his crew to “Tally’s” for a “Tally’s burger” and fries was always a priority. He loved to attend the first evenings buck pole contest held in front of the Lewiston welcome center, and he liked to get his last minute hunting items at the local hardware store. We always had great camp meals, as my mom was a great cook. My dad though was the pancake king, and also did the fried chicken. Dad never let our schooling stand in the way of deer season, as mom always wrote our teachers explaining we would be absent for several days due to our deer camp vacation! We made deer hunting a family affair, and when we started getting married and having kids we just rented more cabins. Dad loved his family, and he was “in his glory” when he had them around. He was usually the camp cribbage king, and always kicked our “butts” at nickel/dime poker! We affectionately called him “bear” and we all would give up our hunting privileges, just to have him wrap his big strong arms around us just once more, and tell us “I love you son!” We love you too dad-thanks for all the great memories.
Mike
A great tribute to your father Mike. He sounded like one heck of a guy. What a great role model for all you boys. If only I can be half that to little Abby I’ll be doing good.