It’s undeniable that ending a hunt with a freezer full of the worlds best meat is the ultimate form of fulfillment but if achieving this goal was the sole definition of success then we definitely came up short. And truthfully had you of asked me going into that week if that’s what success looked like I’d have responded with a resounding yes. Turns out I was wrong but I couldn’t have known that then.
Surrounded by other hunters all nestled up nice and cozy in their giant heated wall tents and cots, we called our two person lightweight backcountry tent home for the week because, well, that’s all we had. I’m not one for cold temp sleeping but sometimes you just gotta do the thing you dislike in order to do the thing you love.
We faced freezing temps that week, thank goodness for sleeping bag liners, and we hiked miles upon miles trying to figure out the lay of the land. The wind gusted and swirled every which way almost constantly making the task even trickier and for the first 5 days hardly a doe graced us with its presence. We were obviously doing it wrong.
Morning by night, we watched, we listened, and we learned. But learning without implementing is a fools errand, so we slowed down, right down. Our movements became much more precise, calculated, and disciplined. Our eyes focused more sharply and we asked ourselves what these deer were teaching us. Well, for starters, we were looking in all the wrong places and even when we did venture to where they were they’d been spotting us before us spotting them. We figured out pretty quickly that there weren’t going to be any gimmes on this trip despite having friends tell us “oh, if you go here, you’re guaranteed to get a deer.” Ha. There are no guarantees in hunting, let alone in life.
We each had our own moments of frustration and feeling remarkably discouraged, but this is the game isn’t it? After all it’s called a hunt for a reason; the joy is in the journey. There is no worthy reward without effort.
So the only thing to do with frustration is to transmute it into something useful and use it as motivation to proceed and be better. Pivoting into a positive mental attitude we quickly realized that we needed to go where we weren’t looking. Ok. Onward.
Day 6, we had so many cool encounters with does, at least 10 of them, which told us we were finally on the right track. Still no bucks, but definitely on the right track.
Morning of day 7, which was our last day, as we were getting ready to head out in the morning I said in my head “if I see a shooting star that means a buck will be had today.”
Mere moments later…whoooosh…well what’dya know, there was my star shooting straight over my head. Ok I thought, this is it, this is the day.
Fast forward two hours later, there he was. Standing amongst the trees so glorious and regal with his massive rack, staring us right in the face. Moments before we’d spotted four does making their way across the skyline silhouetted against the sun and up the rear he came.
I wasn’t on the rifle that morning, I was a spotter, and crouched down about 50 yards behind my partner at the time watching this all go down. One shot fired. Then two. Then three. All offhand.
We had worked so hard for this moment and I was deeply confused as to what was happening. The buck was less than 100 yards away. Three shots fired? I’d then lose sight of our buck as he stotted into the woods and over the hillside. Surely wounded I thought.
I watched my partner take a few steps into the trees to where the buck had stood and fall to his knees with his head in his hands. I walked over.
“I missed” he said.
“Are you sure?” I responded.
“I think so.”
We took a bunch of time searching high and low and in every which direction for any trace of blood. There was none. Zip. Zilch. Nada. He got away scott free. We didn’t say much to each other on the way back to camp because we both knew that was it, it was time to go home empty-handed and heartbroken.
This was not how it was supposed to have ended. Or was it? Honestly, the whole experience made us better hunters, better individuals, and better partners. I was incredibly grateful for all of it. Even the so called ‘loss’ at the end. They say you learn more from your failures than you do your wins and that’s true, you sure do. Failures are the best learning experiences.
We left this place with tears in our eyes and emotions in our hearts, not of sorrow, but of gratitude for the land, the experience, and the hunt itself for what it taught us and continues to teach us. It’s a humbling journey in the most beautiful way. I never knew I would fall in love with this passion yet here I am and words cannot grasp how it makes an impression on your heart in the most profound way. It’s God’s country out there and we are blessed to be a part of it.
