It’s my Spot

I’m not going to tell you exactly where it is, but I will give you a hint. It sits just north west of a posted sign that separates public and private land. It’s just a knob sitting in the middle of the woods. Surrounded by hardwoods and large boulders set on the earth's floor after the glaciers passed through. At this spot I do not have a tree stand, blind, or hunting shack, just a small rather uncomfortable tree I lean against.

The small foam pad that separates my backside from the ground doesn’t offer much support but it’s better than the damp autumn ground. To the left of me sits what resembles a small natural field.

Several times I’ve sat and watched wild eastern turkeys' dark iridescent feathers quiver in the fall breeze as they scratch the fallen leaves away searching for seeds and bugs. I’ve stared at this area for hours and have yet to see a deer there, even though there are signs all over the place. In front of me there is an old skidder trail that rolls up over a hill. I know there are two red squirrels, 6 chickadees and a bird that I can not identify that call this area home. I listen to the chickadees chatter while they zip from tree limb to tree limb.

The squirrels love to wait for the wind to die down before they scurry through the dry leaves on the forest floor in short bursts. Everytime they do, my heart skips a beat and I get myself in the ready position just in case it’s a deer this time. The unidentified bird that occasionally makes it squaaaacchk sound has never been seen by my eyes but I know it’s there. All I know is that it’s not one of the several dozen birds that I can identify by sound. But that's okay, sometimes a mystery doesn’t need to be solved.

To the right of me is the old trail that I walk on every time I come to this spot. Along the way there are fresh deer rubs and rubs from years gone by. I’m sure that if you looked hard enough you could find signs of rubs from some of today's deer's great great grandfathers.

Overhead the sky shifts from partly cloudy to clear with every gust of wind. Occasionally a raven flies over squawking and popping the strange song that they sing. Some evenings I sit here and watch dozens of Canadian geese fly overhead.

Yeah, this spot is pretty special to me. Lord knows it’s not because I shoot a Boone and Crockett buck here every year. No, it's something much bigger than that. In this spot my Papa used to roam woods. Quietly stalking over these hills and down the ravines. He used to sit on these rocks and lean against these trees. As a young boy he would guide me through this forest just like he did with my uncle that sits on watch just a few hundred yards from me. In his spot that means just as much to him as this spot does to me. His entire lifetime was spent roaming these woods sharing his knowledge and wisdom with both of us.

Yes, every time the wind blows here I swear I can hear his whisper “shhh, you need to be a little quieter” and Lord knows I try. As daylight fades to dark here in my spot, I can’t help but thank him for this wonderful gift of a passion for the outdoors he left me. He’s been gone a long time now yet his legacy lives on as I visit several of my spots every hunting season, I can’t help but feel his presence as I quietly move along.

Hunting season in the North Country is a special time of year for many people. So many of us were born into a rich history of having camps and special places we share with family and friends. Most of us had a mentor or two that showed us how to navigate the woods and hunt.

We are the lucky ones that gained the knowledge and wisdom of the old folks that came before us. I think that we all have a special place or two that we visit every year and reminisce about the ones that came before us. But a special place in the outdoors isn’t just for hunters, it's for anyone that feels a connection to wild places. I have special places that I visit during fishing season, while snowshoeing, and hiking in the Adirondacks. I know people that have to paddle a certain pond every year and people that visit a certain place to read a book before the snow flies. These places are special to us for our own personal reasons. For some it’s a connection to our loved ones that have passed on. For others, maybe they found their place while going through a rough patch in their life or they needed to recenter themselves after a crazy week at work. If you have your own place you know what I’m talking about, if you don’t I highly encourage you to go find one. We are lucky to have so many wild places we can visit in the North Country. From state forests to county land there are 1000’s of acres to go explore to find your special place. Whether it’s next to a waterfall, near a rocky cliff or under a big pine tree, you can find one here in the North Country.

Aaron Hardy

Northern NY Adventures

“Make Life an Adventure”