Hunting season is history, and if you’re one of the thousands and thousands of Mainers who successfully “got your deer” this year, congratulations.

If you’re not one of those thousands and thousands of Mainers – like me – try not to let the fact that thousands and thousands (have I mentioned that yet?) of your peers will be eating venison this winter.

And you (we) won’t.

No matter, right? We tried. We looked at plenty of piles of deer droppings and scrapes and rubs. We supported the local buck lure manufacturers by buying bottles of the rank-smelling brew. We stocked up on supplies that it turned out we wouldn’t need.

And we came up empty.

Well, almost.

As many have said before, no trip afield is merely a meat-gathering experience. If that were the case, we’d be better off (and save ourselves plenty of aggravation) by stopping by the local Shop ‘n Save and buying a few pounds of rib-eye steaks.

No, it’s about more than that. Personally, all I ask is that at some point, for some brief period of time, at least one deer (preferably one with antlers) actively participates in the hunt by showing his face.

This year, that happened. And because of that, I’m already looking forward to next year … and to stocking up on more rank-smelling buck lure, and more supplies I may not need.

This buck (according to the admittedly biased survey of the three hunters who saw him) was a monster. He was a 30-pointer. And he likely weighed about 300 pounds. Maybe more.

(When you don’t actually shoot the buck, and when you aren’t successful in getting any closer than 200 yards from it, I figure that gives you the right to say it’s as big as you want it to be.)

Honestly, he was probably an eight-pointer … and likely weighed less than 200 pounds.

None of that mattered to us.

For about a minute on Friday morning, we were staring at a buck. Our rifles were unloaded and stowed in the back of the SUV we were riding in. The deer had no intention of letting any of us get off a shot.

By the time our designated sharpshooter got out, grabbed his rifle, loaded, and aimed, the deer had seen enough. He flicked his tail, took one graceful bound, and disappeared into the trees alongside the skidder trail where we’d spotted him.

But for a minute, the buck was there. We saw him.

And after seeing next-to-nothing for most of November, that was a pretty good way to wrap up the season.

At least, that’s what we’re saying today.

What we said to each other on Friday morning will remain private.

So, if you got your deer this year, congratulations. And if you didn’t, you’re not alone. The vast majority of us are in your shoes.

Not that our lack of success means that we don’t have plenty of stories to tell.

Proper attitude aids hunters

I received an e-mail recently that pointed out that calling myself a “novice” deer hunter wasn’t necessary.

The reader, John C. Richards, said that one of his favorite hunters could, if he chose, call himself a novice. But he doesn’t. Read on for some of Richards’ e-mail.

“Just because you don’t get a deer every year, or ever for that matter, doesn’t make you a novice,” Richards wrote. “It all has to do with attitude. If you love doing and sharing the sport you are as good as any hunter.

“My dad, for instance, is one of the worst hunters around. In fact he has hunted for nearly 40 years and I can only think of twice when he has shot a deer. Does this make him a novice? No. But it sure makes for great stories because he’s missed some real whoppers. He just gets too excited. I, on the other hand, usually get a deer every year so he tells me I must be adopted.”

Richards also pointed out that in years past, he hunted hard – up until the final minutes as daylight waned. Now, he has learned to enjoy hunting in a different way.

“Now I realize it’s just fun being outside, and now my son, who is 8 years old, is showing signs of wanting to trudge through the woods with me,” he wrote.

“I took him last Saturday and tried to teach him a little bit of how to walk quietly, heel to toe,” he wrote, pointing out that his son had some difficulty achieving the necessary stealth.

“Well, we didn’t see anything, but you know what? The last thing he told me before he went to sleep was, ‘Daddy, I know we didn’t catch anything, but I had a great time just the same.’ That makes it all worthwhile.”

Thanks for the e-mail, John. And while I maintain that I have plenty left to learn about hunting, I agree that my enjoyment of the sport isn’t diminished a whit by my (self-imposed) “novice” status.

Handicapped skiers sought

Sunday’s torrential rainstorm aside, winter is sneaking up on us, and Mainers who enjoy a variety of outdoor pursuits need to be planning ahead.

If you know an adult or child with special needs – and if you think that person would be up for a new adventure – you may want to pass along word of a popular program being offered by Maine Handicapped Skiing.

Maine Handicapped Skiing, the state’s largest adaptive recreation program for adults and children with physical disabilities, is looking for participants in its Sugarloaf/USA weekend program.

The program will start in early January, and adults and children over the age of 6 with physical disabilities who are interested in learning to ski or snowboard are encouraged to call.

For more information contact Maine Handicapped Skiing at 800-639-7770 or e-mail the group at info@skimhs.org.

All lessons are free of charge.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.