While out hunting, if I am close to someone, I may walk over and ask them where they plan on hunting and communicate so we dont bother or mess each other up. I dont mind that at all.
At camp, it depends. Sometimes it depends how far off the road they are. I may go talk to them. Especially if they have a downed animal. I dont mind if people want to come into my camp and talk. Not a big deal to me.
This last year while in Colorado (I am from Utah) we camped in an area that was designated as a camping spot. Maybe about 10 different groups. Trailers and tents a dumpster, bathroms/port o potties, and poles to hang animals. The 1st 2-3 days, everyone kept mostly to them selves. But after a few deer were down, people would migrate over to see what they had and to congratulate them. Most people were from California, a few from Colorado. There were a few that kept to them selves. But after the groups started to talk, it was a lot of fun. After each morning and evening, guys would walk around and check on each other and see how the hunts were. We had found that many guys had deer tags and many had elk tags. So everyone was looking out for one another. After we had a few problems with a blown tire and having to go to town to get a new tire and replace a bad spare, we got back to camp late. Guys came to check onus to make sure everything was alright. That was cool. The next morning I shot a buck and came back to camp. Guys came over to see what I had and to congratulate me. That night, my buddy shot a buck right at dark. We loaded it into the truck and came back to camp to clean and cut up the deer. It was dark, so we had the lights of the trailer to help us. It was 12 degrees out too. The cool part was, guys came over to see what we had and tell us good job and all, but the best was a group next to us came over and said, its cold out and we know its going to be a late night. Here is dinner for you. They cooked and brought us dinner that night with out even asking. How cool is that??? That is what it is all about right there.
