Deer Hunting

I was inspired to tell a story after seeing reports of game wardens in search of poachers.  Well, its deer season after all.

There was a time when this time of year brought about, for me, bright orange vests and the promise of a few hours with Dad and his friends.   It’s deer hunting season.

A few stories –

A group of “elders” (I say elders, they seemed that way to my young eyes) in the community of Taos would gather each year at the D-H Lawrence ranch near San Cristobal.  Some of the participants were there to drink fine whiskey, eat steak and play poker until the wee hours of the morning.  Us “serious” hunters – I was really just a kid - would go to sleep early and head out before daybreak, sneaking along the edges of fields of feed – waiting to fire a shot at a poor unsuspecting deer.  Quite often we scored.  By the time we got back to camp the poker players had long departed for home.  The rest of us stayed around for another day.

When we weren’t successful on the “big hunts,” Dad and I (and maybe a couple others) would take off about mid-afternoon and head over to Tres Piedras in search of ol’ Stag.  We’d fire at least one shot each year – just to make us feel good.

Another time a bunch of folks trekked from Taos over to an old schoolhouse somewhere around Roy.  My mother and her brothers had grown up in those parts – and some of her brothers (my uncles) and a bunch of other Taoseňos headed over year one year on a deer hunting expedition.

I can tell you it was a successful time.  There were a bunch of hunters, all with the appropriate license.  Some of us could actually shoot.  I recall that trip specifically.  We were going through the game and fish checkpoint at Cimarron and had so many deer feet sticking up from the back of the pickups, the game wardens just looked at all of us and waved us through.  Good thing – I think we had one too many – but the statute of limitations has long expired and most of those on that hunting trip have gone to the happy hunting grounds.

I’ll post another hunting story that involves a life and death chase (really) through mountain roads in the dark of night in northern New Mexico.

In the meantime, here’s a picture of what I believe to be a pheasant or a grouse release along a creek in Taos.  

In this photograph are – as best I can tell – from left to right:

Tom Holder, NM Game & Fish Warden; Jack Brandenburg a prominent banker and business leader (notice he’s wearing a suit); the gentleman standing in the “curly” hat is Tom Tarleton, and kneeling at the pheasant stand are Dow Bond (white hat) and Sam Beimer (dark sweater and dark hat).  Notice the famous Taos Mountain in the background.  I’m guessing about 1960.