By Tank Hoover

When I wuz a kid, all hunting camps were character builders. The youngsters were expected to pull their own weight by gathering firewood, fetching water, dragging deer or any other chore too mundane or bothersome for the elders. It built character!

Every deer camp has a “character” too! He’s the guy who kept everyone in stitches, whether intentionally, or by bumbling mishap, as the case may be. It didn’t matter. The camp character would keep you laughing. Bill Bane was our camp character!

Bill musta’ been in his early 60’s, and he sure seemed awful old to a pre-teen like me. Despite his age, his enthusiasm was just as high, if not more, than mine. He talked about deer hunting non-stop and was a gizmo/gadget kind of guy. You know the type, always looking for the newest, latest, greatest rifle, cartridge, pants, boots, knife, deer scent, cover scent, you name it, he’d be the first to have it, to try it out. Then he’d talk your ear off about how great it was. “Scientific deer hunting” he’d say.

Bill was a living shrine to the Boy Scout motto “be prepared!” Hell, I think he surpassed it by leaps and bounds. Bill was a trendsetter — if only in his mind. His hunting “kit” looked something like this ….

Prepared For the Apocalypse

Guns were Bill’s strong suit. I don’t think he ever came to deer camp with the same rifle two years in a row, sometimes he’d even bring two new ones to try out. The first gun I remember him toting was a slick little Winchester 1894 carbine in .30-30. The following year he lugged a British Enfield he found in a hardware store, followed by a Marlin .444 and then a Remington 760 pump in .30-06. He’d load the old trombone shell-shucker in the most mesmerizing way, proving to me, he was the smartest buck hunter there ever lived! He told me in strict confidence his secret.

First he’d load a 180-grain round-nose brush-bucker, for close-in shots. If that didn’t work and Mr. Buck started running, he had a 165-grain spitzer loaded next. If by some freak mishap he missed, or the buck was hauling the mail, his third round was a 150-grain bronze-point that struck like a lightening bolt of death. Boy, Bill was smart! Thinking of his lethal loading legacy still brings a smile to my face.

No matter what outfit Bill wore, he always finished it with his utility belt! He’d have, at minimum, 40 rounds of this year’s ammunition, with at least ten rounds for each bullet weight. Next came his knives, and yep, at least three, often many times more!

Besides a basic guttin’ knife, he’d have a skinner and a humongous bowie, in case of bear, and then a pocket knife of some sort. He also carried a camp-axe on his belt. Oh yeah, forgot to mention his machete’ in case he needed to break trail! Bill lugged his 10″ cast iron skillet, in case he got lost or needed to cook something. As it swung freely from his belt, it would clang against his camp-axe, making him sound like a packed-down trail-mule, heading into the wilderness. His 2-gallon blanket-covered canteen hung from his neck, next to his binoculars. Gotta’ stay hydrated!

For some strange reason, Bill never ventured too far from camp, even though he was prepared to live off the land for a month. When making his approach back to camp, we could all hear Bill a half-hour before he got there.

Anticipation

The night before the opener, it was hard to tell who was more excited, Bill, or us kids. I don’t think Bill slept a wink! He’d toss and turn for hours before finally admitting defeat and get up. Usually, he’d start cooking something.

I remember waking up to water dripping on my head one year. Bill had a huge pot at full boil as the steam collected on the trailer roof, before it started dripping on me. From my top bunk, I groggily asked, “Watcha’ cookin’ Bill?” His high shrill voice cheerfully cries out at 3:00 am, “Turnips! Want some?” “No thanks, Bill…” as I buried my head under my pillow.

Memories

Bill was a character all right! Sitting at the breakfast table, his belly full of turnips, he was full of life, waiting for his morning coffee! “Here ya go, Bill, careful, it’s hot!” “I like it hot! The hotter the better…” and he’d chug it down to my wide-eyed astonishment. The steaming coffee looked like it came out of Bill’s ears, as his eyes got real wide and looked kinda teary.

“You alright, Bill” I nervously asked? Bill, whispering in a barely audible tone, “Lozenge … I … need … a throat … lozenge!” Bill swore the hot coffee had nothing to do with him getting a sore throat after chugging his hot coffee.

Funny the things we remember as kids. But one thing’s for certain, you never forget the antics of the Camp Character, whether you want to, or not. Thankfully, I remember our Camp Character, especially every time I hear the clanging of a skillet or smell turnips simmering on the stove.

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