When I first heard about the whitetail deer hunt being proposed on Anticosti Island, Quebec, I had many more questions than answers.

The journey to get to the island in itself was epic and my companions had set forth on a planned hunt that was put in play over several years ago.

Jeff and Greg Anderson were returning to Deer Island after exploring the isolated gem located in the Gulf of St. Lawrence in a previous hunt.

The idea was spawned in the back of an outdoor magazine ad and then the Outdoor Show and Expo in Harrisburg. Stories of phenomenal numbers of deer, spectacular scenery and vast hunting areas sold the fellows on a hunt of a lifetime.

A trip cancellation by Jeff’s son allowed me to join the group with fellow hunter Joe Heller from Bloomsburg and another good friend of Jeff and Greg’s.

Driving 19 hours through Pennsylvania, New York and Quebec certainly lets you get to know each other and these fellows were great traveling companions.

We had a lot of laughs and I finally got to use my passport as we entered Canada with the goal of driving along the St. Lawrence Seaway until arriving at Mont Joli Airport, Quebec, our final departure point for the Anticosti Island hunt.

RCAF-Mont Joli was a key player in WWII as German U-Boats hid off the shores of the Atlantic Ocean sinking tons of Allied shipping from both Canada and the U.S. Aircraft staging out of Mont Joli were critical to protecting the shipping vital to the Allies war efforts. After 1945 the airfield was turned over to the Transport Canada, which runs a small airport which we were to depart from in the morning for our 45-minute flight to the island.

During summer months a ferry service runs to the island as well.

Critical to our hunt was in making choices for gear and food as we were limited to 75 pounds per hunter in total checked in weight, which included our firearms.

All unnecessary items would be left behind locked in our vehicles until we returned to the mainland. My first memory of the area was the moose warning signs which I found to be like our deer warning signs — that is until we came upon a moose-vehicle collision, no winners in this encounter.

After a late dinner and early bedtime, we were boarding our twin prop plane for the island. So much for security as I noticed that my checked in bag was stacked in the doorway of the plane as we boarded. The French Canadian crew was very courteous and explained everything in both French and English.

Arrival at the island was uneventful and we were met by our guide Claude at the Port Menier Airport.

He quickly loaded us into the Ford 250 King Cab pickup that we would get to know so very well. As other hunters headed to the license center to buy our deer licenses, Claude opted to bypass the crowd and head for the only store on the island.

Greg and Jeff had called an order in earlier for our week’s supplies and we would finish it off with a few other items. One thing we found out real soon was that this was not the U.S. and choices were limited due to the isolation and expense of shipping in food.

As the fellows went into the store, I couldn’t help but to notice deer wandering about the port town. Locals as Claude referred to them and they soon came over to me to see if I might have a treat for them.

I wanted to give them something, but I was sure there was some rule about it and I was the stranger in the strange land.

Soon we headed out of town with our licenses and supplies toward our lodging area, which we found was going to be around 3 1/2 to 4 hours driving time.

The roads would be unpaved with a rock base and plenty of potholes. The island was covered with spruce forests, rivers and vast swampy regions.

We were headed for the southern coastal area to our camp Martin la Mer. We would be on the sea and also have the Martin River off our front porch as well. We met with the guide and we began to hear the options available for hunting areas and wake up would be at 5 a.m.

The bark of a fox caught my attention as I was making a pot of coffee. No cell phones, no television or computers — we would soon settle into a routine of nature and old fashioned conversation for the duration of the trip.

Oh yeah one other thing, our guide only spoke French which could prove to be amusing or confusing.

(To be continued).