The rut was on when I made landfall in Yooperville. Logging roads scored the Hiawatha National Forest, and they were dotted with fresh scrapes. At Stevens Camp, each hunter has their favorite blinds, some of which are decades old, but more and more hunters are going for pop-ups. My host, Steve Peltier, put me up in a sweet stacked-log blind in a cedar-choked ravine.

My opening day hunt ended pretty quickly when I heard the crack of a rifle on an adjacent ridge. Five minutes later a hellacious round of whooping and high-fiving broke out. I thought I recognized the voices. I took a walk to see what all the fuss was about.

Doug Stoner had hunted Drummond Island for eight years, and never killed a deer. Introduced to Stevens Camp by his father-in-law, Chuck Decker, Stoner was enthralled with the deer camp, with the camaraderie, with the big woods. But even he admits he was tired of going buck-less. Those days ended on Opening Day, 2008.