Illustration from George Shuklin photo By Rick Hynick The Old Binoculars and a new hunter's first buck The rock is so big you could park a truck on it, and we made it there before first light on a cold, clear final Saturday of archery season. My 13-year-old son Ricky beside me, dawn arrived, and I raised the old binoculars to begin scanning. The rock provides a commanding view down the mountain. A prominent deer trail leading out of the laurel and through the clearing in front of us meanders past our stand on its way to the top of the mountain. With the rut in full swing, it seemed certain deer would be moving. NOVEMBER 2019 The 50-year-old 6x30 U.S. military binoculars at times had been tucked up against red-and-black wool hunting jackets worn by my grandfather and father. They're small enough to hang comfortably around the collar from the old cracked leather strap, but large enough to fill the hands. These binoculars have been used mainly in the deer woods, though they've seen service during turkey and bear seasons, even peering into the tops of oak trees for squirrels. I'm sure they will pass someday to Ricky. 47