Letters from Deer Camp

I grew up in a little community of Finnish immigrants and their descendants north of Nashwauk, Minnesota. By the time I came along in the early 1950s, many other folks had moved in, but there was still a strong flavor of the “Old Country.” My best friend lived less than a mile from me down the shoreline of Snaptail Lake. His name is Alvar Peura, but he’s always been known as “Buck.”

After high school he moved away to college, and we would write each other often. I’ve kept his letters over the years, as they were always filled with his thoughts and anecdotes that were of interest to me. I’m hoping to share some of his correspondence over the coming weeks. These are in no particular order but will be published as I am reminded of my own memories or some philosophy of his becomes pertinent to my life. Since many of the letters spoke of hunting, fishing and the outdoors, this series will be called “Letters from Deer Camp.”

October 12, 1973 Hey, Hoops!

I hear Coach Hall notched another “W” in the win column last Friday against Greenway. Good for him! The Big Orange Machine marches on.

Went back home and did some chores at deer camp. Some of the trails had a few deadfalls and they became wood for the stove right quick. Spider webs needed to be cleaned from every corner of the outhouse and the mouse turds had to be swept from under the sink.

A thought occurred to me as I was finishing up. Why do we call our shacks “deer camp?”

At first look it might make sense. We do spend many days during deer season using this as our temporary home, but really – how much of the year does deer season take up? I mean, two weeks in November is just a small part of the calendar. It could easily be called “duck camp.” That lasts for six weeks.

Or grouse camp. You can count almost two months it’s used for that. Maybe “fish camp” would be more appropriate. How many weekends do I stay there chasing walleyes and crappies from late spring, all summer into early fall and even some winter trips going ice fishing or spearing?

Come to think of it, I don’t even have to be hunting or fishing to spend a night or two. Sometimes I go there just to get my head straight or relax. It’s always good to have a place to blow some of the urban stink off. Sitting by the fire pit in the evening as the sun sinks below the western end of the lake, having a beer and listening to the “peepers” and loons always takes my mind away from work, traffic and other nuisances of the daily grind. If I’m lucky ol’ mister barred owl will be asking “Who cooks for you” between my camp and yours! You could easily call it “Attitude Adjustment Camp!”

My neighbor down here has his deer camp near Aitkin. Although, he refers to his as a “work farm”.

He doesn’t spend much time there and complains every time he goes about the hours he had to put in “fixin’ this and cleanin’ that.” He heads up on Fridays and gets back late on Sunday and it sounds like he didn’t have any fun at all.

I don’t know. For some reason mowing the grass in my yard is something I dread. Mowing the grass off the trails at deer camp is a joy. I don’t like having to paint the garage every five years but putting a new coat on the woodshed or outhouse at deer camp is a pleasure and the brush just flies. I put off sweeping the floor or doing the dishes at home but can’t wait to tidy up at the shack.

Fixing the railing on the back steps is still on my “to-do” list but I make sure I have lumber, hammer and nails when I head up north to patch some deer stands.

Must be somethin’ special in the air up there!

Oh, I guess it’ll always be called deer camp. It’s been called that ever since I can remember, so I guess the name will always stay. Ah, the time Pa shot three deer from the Jackpine Stand. Or the years my college roommates would come up for opening weekend. Matti getting his first deer and how ‘bout you and me chasing that big buck halfway across the township! Perhaps “Memories Camp” would be a better name.

Lookin’ forward to spending time up there and seeing you in a few weeks. November always comes around so fast. Say “hi” to your folks and get that .308 sighted in this year for a change!

Buck