Every fall there is a ritual that my family performs called deer hunting. For me it is a time to get away from the city, and be with my dad, brothers, cousins etc.
Our hunting grounds are the same used by my grandfather whom I never had a chance to know. I do feel that I know him a little from the stories I hear when we are hunting in the mountains he loved. The country is gorgeous during the fall, leaves are turning, the wild hills seem wilder. Winter is coming and you can feel its bite, you can see the land changing with the change in the season.
This year, my cousin Bob brought his little boy Aaron along for the hunt. Will next year be the year I take Clayton for his first hunt? 
Aaron had a blast, hanging with the guys.
The hills we usually hunt were a bit dry this year. Here is Troy (brother in law) over looking from the same point that was a favorite of my Grandfather.
See those mountains in the distance, well it isn't exactly where we ended up but close.
Mountain hunting is different from the hills, but the views are spectacular. We sat in this valley watching the sun rise up lighting the hillsides around us.
If anything the terrain is even more rugged, but all the more magnificent for it.
A stand of quaking aspen.
OK, I couldn't help being a little artsy fartsy, adding a little motion blurr...
Here is part of our group heading back to the top...
This was the view at our backs, you gotta love the wild places in Utah.
11 years ago
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