After our move to California, our family looked forward to the annual deer hunt as an excuse to return home to Utah and visit Grandma. Her grown children had moved to the west coast where there were more job opportunities during World War II. It was a long drive home across the Mohave desert. In those days, cars had no air conditioning. We left in the late afternoon and traveled during the night. To make time go faster and keep the driver awake, we sang the popular songs of the day––making sure to include When it’s Springtime in the Rockies…I’ll be coming home to you as we crossed Nevada. When the desert cactus changed to sagebrush, I knew we were back in Utah. (Photo on the left is me sitting on the antlers with my dad who loved to hunt.)
Arriving at Grandma’s house, she welcomed us home and served a delicious roast beef dinner with fresh baked bread and delicious pies. Visiting followed while everyone relaxed and got caught up on the latest news. Because Grandma had missed her grandchildren, she volunteered to babysit us while our parents went hunting and camping. We loved playing together with our Utah cousins, and to be with Grandma again. We had missed her too.
Deer hunting usually lasted a week. Hop Creek was a favorite place for our parents to camp near Eureka. The success of the hunt depended on the weather. Warm weather meant the animals were higher in the mountains. More hiking and scouting was necessary. Snow on the other hand, brought the wary creatures down closer to camp. Getting out before sunrise was necessary for our parents to stake out a place on a ridge to be able to see any deer approaching, and get a shot before they were detected. In good years, everyone was successful, then the work began as it was time to prepare the carcass.
If the animal had been shot a long distance from camp, it was carried back, hung in a tree, gutted and quartered. Triumphant hunters loved to drape the deer carcass with its antlers on their car or truck returning from camp. Next stop was the butcher shop where the deer was cut up and frozen. Venison has a wild flavor that not everyone liked, but it certainly helped with the food budget. Then it was time to say goodbye to Grandma and make the long trip without freeways back to California loaded with frozen meat packages. (Photo of my uncle Les, his daughter Jody with after a successful hunt displaying their deer. My apologies to all animal lovers and vegetarians but I bet you also have ancestors who had to hunt for food for the family table. I do not hunt nor my sons-we lost that tradition in our growing up without my dad around.)
Not a good post for my first cup of coffee...My son-in-law to be is a hunter..I understand it..I just have a hard time with photos...But it is lovely to have such memories as a child and such a good family history..
ReplyDeletejordan always wanted a gun...always wanted to go hunting with his buddies before HS graduation. I, of course said NO...As soon as he got to OSU...he went hunting...and on the first trip got himself a deer. He had the deer prepared and packaged and brought it home to store. He would take some back to school periodically or come home and cooked it. Then he left on his mission...and we still ate that venison. I'm not too fond of venison so there were a couple packages still in the freezer when he came home...not to eat but to remember Jordan by while he was serving. We have great vension in Ohio, I am told, because of what they eat. No rocks, here....just good corn, etc.
ReplyDeleteSounds fun:) My dad and my brothers love to hunt. It seems like we've always had deer meat in our freezer back home!
ReplyDeleteHunting was a part of my childhood, too. I have many family members who still hunt, but not us and not our kids. City slickers, I guess.
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