# "Camo and Lace Deer Camp. No Boys Allowed."



## Hamilton Reef (Jan 20, 2000)

Girls just want to have fun 
No boys allowed at Camo and Lace deer camp 

http://www.mlive.com/outdoors/fljournal/index.ssf?/base/sports-1/1129821809293490.xml&coll=5

By Elizabeth Shaw [email protected]  810.766.6311

Ogemaw county - Beneath the glow of an October hunter's moon, a group of women in face paint and camouflage circled around a blindfolded comrade wearing antlers and holding an arrow. 

A cardboard sign rested against a fence post at the end of the dirt lane, the hastily scrawled words easy to read in the moonlight: 

"Camo and Lace Deer Camp. No Boys Allowed."

Clearly, there was something unusual going on last weekend at Steve Fralick's hunting cabin near Skidway Lake. 

"In 17 years up here, I think I can pretty much guarantee I've never seen anything like this before," joked Fralick, a Flint Bowmen member, shaking his head in bewildered amusement at the tongue-in-cheek ritual for first-time hunter Amy Graham of Richfield Township. 

For three days, Fralick cooked caribou burgers and played host for the Camo and Lace hunting club, an offshoot from the Flint chapter of National Wild Turkey Federation's Women in the Outdoors. 

"They're a good group of gals. They know how to have fun," Fralick said, chuckling. "I've learned a lot, too, about what women talk about when the guys aren't around. And some of it you don't want to know." 

The six Flint-area women were looking to do more than just bag a buck in bowhunting season. They were breaking down barriers to a time-honored male tradition. 

"I've gone hunting before, but I've never been to deer camp with my husband because women were not allowed," said Mandy Reed of Burton, an avid archer and mother of two young boys. "Hopefully, the day will come when this isn't unusual enough to be worth writing about." 

While hunting is typically a coming-of-age, father-son ritual, most of the women learned to hunt from a spouse or a WITO workshop.

"When the kids were young, I stayed at home. It's my turn now," said Arlene Minto of Davison Township. "I'm just lucky to have a husband who's really supportive of that." 

At first glance, the Camo and Lace site looked like any deer camp. Pickup trucks and SUVs lined up next to a 3-D target stand. Coolers filled with beer and wild game meat. Camouflage jackets, rubber boots and archery equipment heaped around the stairs of the open barn. 

Then you spot the half-finished embroidery project left on the cabin's second-hand couch, beneath the antlers and animal skins. Or the Victoria's Secret bra lying on one of the bunks. 

"We talk about everything to each other - high school, marriage, childbirth, divorce, cooking. But what makes this so great is we can also talk about hunting and all the other things we're interested in," said Laura Charles, who commutes from the West Branch area to the Flint Truck Assembly plant. 

"Growing up, I think we all felt a little different in school. Now, finally, here's a group we've got so much in common with. I guess we have to be this old to be cool," joked Kathy Cummings of Oregon Township. 

The women hunted from tree stands and ground blinds spread across Fralick's wooded 80 acres. 

"To tell you the truth, they're a lot more prepared and in tune with what's going on in the woods than a lot of the men I've seen," said Fralick. "They're more safety-conscious, too. Half the guys never even bring a safety harness. And food. Guys might bring a thing of cookies their wife made. These women are dragging more food than you could eat in a week." 

Camaraderie was the best part, all said. 

"Hunting with a man is more like a child being with a parent," said Cummings, who's hunted with her husband for 30 years. "They make all the decisions and do all the thinking for you. You just do what you're told to do. This is fun and totally different." 

Reed agreed, saying, "Here, we can sit around and discuss it and figure it out for ourselves. So it's our hunt, not theirs. We're totally non-competitive and supportive, cheering each other on." 

The group shared the frustration and sadness too, when Graham's 15-yard broadside shot failed to cleanly bring down her first deer. 

Late into Saturday night and throughout Sunday morning, the entire group searched the woods for signs of the wounded doe, but to no avail. Fralick and other experienced trackers in the group believe it was lost into a heavy marsh area, beyond reach. 

"I felt horrible. I've been reliving it ever since, what I could've done different," said Graham, a teacher at Kearsley High School. "But every time I go hunting now, I'll always think of this one. It'll make me focus more, to make sure it's a good shot I'm taking." 

It was a painful experience for them all, said Reed, but the hardest part was saying goodbye at deer camp's end. 

"Over the years, I've had a lot of groups up here hunting. I'm really impressed. They have a good time, but they take what they're doing seriously," said Fralick. "I'd welcome them back any time."


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