Hornet, you might enjoy this story.
In 1989, one of my technicians invited me to join him and several of his friends at his dad's A-frame home near Raystown Lake in Huntingdon County. My son, who was nine at the time, went along for his first hunting trip with Dad. I got bronchitis on Thanksgiving day and did not sleep at all Sunday night at Raystown, so I packed the guys lunches, wished them luck and went back to bed instead of out to hunt on Monday morning.
Jason woke up at 8:30, realized it was light outside and woke me up from the first sleep I'd had all night. Grudingly, I agreed to go out and we walked no farther than 100 yards from the parking lot when I saw two tree stumps perhaps 75 yards back in the woods. "Looks like a good spot," I told Jason and we sat down at 9:25. I was gagging and coughing so I figured a smoke couldn't hurt anything (I smoked cigarettes back then) and lit one up. Ten minutes later, a five-point ran by chasing two does. One neck-shot later, we had what Jason still refers to as "the ten-minute deer."
I hope you enjoy equally good fortune (without the bronchitis, of course). By the way, I was the only one of the bunch to get a deer.
Ed