Father looks to build deer-hunting tradition
HERBSTER, Wis. — The alarm went off at 4:15 a.m., but that wasn't the first time Kyle Brickson awoke Saturday morning.
"I kept waking up thinking I'd overslept the season," said Brickson, who lives in Carlton, Minn.
The Wisconsin gun deer opener will do that to a person. And Brickson, 38, had even more reason to be worked up about Nov. 17's Wisconsin opener. It was his first year hunting on 40 acres — complete with a log deer shack — he had bought this fall. It's in the woods near Herbster.
Joining Brickson were longtime friends Tom Pfister of Duluth and Scott Dodge of St. Michael, Minn.
But the two main reasons Brickson bought the land were still at home on this opener. One's name is Nolan, and the other's is Karsen. They are 6 and 3, respectively. Brickson wanted a place where he and his sons can hunt together someday. Previously, Brickson and his friends had hunted mostly on family and county land near Iron River.
"We only had 20 acres near Iron River," Brickson said. "I was looking forward to having my two boys join me and give them more space. It was inevitable we would need more land. That was my prime motivation."
Dodge's young sons, too, will someday hunt here. The land is rolling Bayfield County backcountry that grows big oaks, old pines and remnant cedars.
And, the hunters hope, big whitetails.
"There are lots of scrapes, lots of big rubs," Brickson said.
Both are signs that bucks are working the area.
With the woodstove pushing out plenty of heat to ward off the morning's 28-degree chill, the hunters padded around in the cabin getting ready. They jammed candy bars into fanny packs. They pulled on wool socks, slipped into layers of fleece and wool, made sure they had doe-in-heat scent and laid out gloves and headlamps.
The hunters sipped coffee, downed Grape Nuts and munched cinnamon rolls. They would need the calories in the morning's brisk northeast wind.
The ground rules already had been established. Brickson and his partners believe in the "quality deer management" concept, which favors the harvest of does and mature bucks. That means they were looking primarily for 10-point bucks and up.
At 5:30 a.m., an hour before legal shooting time, the hunters stepped onto the deck, threw on blaze orange coats and walked into the darkness. Brickson went east, Dodge north, Pfister south.
But there would be no stories for the ages on this opening morning. Brickson saw — and, of course, passed up — a spike buck at 6:40 a.m. Dodge saw ruffed grouse and chickadees. Pfister saw an 8-point buck, passed up a spike buck and couldn't get a good shot at a doe.
A big northeast wind blew across Lake Superior and into the Bayfield County woods. Not many deer were moving, Brickson said.
Otherwise, the day had deer hunting written all over it. The sun made a weak attempt to pierce a sooty sky. The wind swayed trees where the hunters sat in their portable stands. A raven rowed across the sky, perhaps searching for deer parts left behind by successful hunters. Intermittent snowflakes drifted down like flecks of bleached ash.
Through the morning, occasional gunshots rang out over the valleys, single volleys of artillery in the distance, deep-throated detonations in the middle country. But none sounded from the stands on Brickson's land.
Brickson and his friends probably will find their deer. They'll put in their time. The deer are out there. There's a buck pole already built and waiting in a clearing near the cabin.
And when the hunters do score, they'll be able to pass the stories down to a new generation of hunters still waiting to discover this patch of Wisconsin deer country.
