The lore and wonder that follows big game hunting cannot be denied. It is one of the most iconic forms of the sport and takes an entirely different frame of mind to involve yourself in. It’s not a game for the weak of heart or those looking for a gingerly walk through the woods. It takes a mindset, strong and determined, that will overcome the multitude of odds stacked against you and then, above all, the mental strength to take a life. Life of course, being something we can all appreciate.
At this point in my life I have yet to be successful on any big game hunt I have been a part of. I have not had that opportunity, that moment when everything comes together and you place the animal in your peep sight or behind the crosshair of your scope. But as I walked away from the post office a few weeks ago, I realized that this year I would have the opportunity to not only hunt once or twice for elk and deer but a total of three times. Three times that I will put myself in the woods, challenge myself to push hard and work smart, and ultimately try take an animal.
Moving into this year I have an advantage, now having lived
in Oregon for nearly two years the surrounding hunt units and overall country
are becoming much more familiar to me. I have a starting point for most every
hunt and this go around will be very different. James and I will head up with
our bows into the Elkhorn Mountains and chase bull elk starting at the end of
August. We will put our minds together to explore the Walla Walla unit for
spike elk come late October. And with James’s help, we will travel to the Mt.
Emily unit in search of deer, probably my best chance of the year to bring home
an animal and put meat in my freezer (the same unit Mike and James both shot their
deer last year). I can’t wait for that season to begin.
As such, with all these opportunities I am inevitably faced
with the reality that to put meat in my freezer, to be successful, I must take
the life of another. It is only at this point in my life I believe I am ready
to do so, however, that wasn’t always the case. There was a time, not too long
ago, that while I wanted to get into hunting so badly, I struggled with the
mental aspect of the endeavor. Never before was I faced with questions of life
and death and never before had I contemplated how the moment would affect me.
But I have contemplated it now. I have considered the mental aspect. And I now
know I am ready.
When I look around at those who grew up out west I am sure
that many of them would think it silly to have such conflict running through my
head. Not that they do not respect these animals and what taking one means, but
rather, many of them grew up with this culture. Grew up with mom and dad bring
home deer and elk from the time they were old enough to reach up on the table.
So for them, as kids, they were exposed to and saw hunting not as something to
be learned later in life, but a way of life, right from the beginning. And to
see this as I’ve moved around and gotten to know the country has always
fascinated me.
For the others of us, growing up in more urban areas of the
east coast, hunting was accepted and practiced, but to a much lesser degree
than out west. Growing up in New England myself, hunting was always prevalent, not
so much in the southern regions but more so in the backwoods of New Hampshire
and Maine; a place of mystery and wonder and the region where I first heard my “call
to the wild” if you will. And so, as I sit here today I recognize that I have
learned much about the western culture, this hunting culture, and only now
having a firm grasp on and deeper understanding of these cultures, do I feel I
am ready to take the next step.
I think back to last year and while I would have loved to
have brought an animal home, perhaps the learning experience did me more good
than I could have ever imagined. I learned of the struggles one must go through
to reach these animals and James taught me patience and how to push myself
harder and farther than I thought possible. And coming close to several
animals, getting on your hands and knees, nose in the ground, you come to want
it that much more.
I told James a while back that I am most definitely ready to
put an elk down the center of my peep sight. The time and practice has been put
in and now the only thing left to do is pull back on the release and let the
arrow fly. It is in that moment that I am sure my instincts will take over but
I also know that the accompanying moment that I approach the animal on the
ground will be a new experience, evoking unknown emotions. I suppose you can
never really know how you will react until you are there.
Hunting so much last year during the bird season I was able
to overcome any emotions I might have had. With the sport of it challenging and
the little brown dog working as only a mutt dog can, I took great pleasure in
the outings. But I never forgot to reflect at the end of the day and be
thankful for the meat and adventure I was bringing home. With big game, I know the
experience will eventually become the same but until that first animal is on
the ground I think about that moment often.
Ultimately, when the time comes, I will be ready. I have
worked hard, practiced harder, and simply have to put my best foot forward. And
when that shot arrives, I know I will have James and Mike to help me clean the
animal and relish the day. However, I am ahead of myself, and with almost a
month and a half until those seasons begin, I must bide my time and bare
through the summer’s heat.
It’s going to be 92 degrees today here in eastern Oregon but
soon that chill will arrive, the mornings will be cool and you will open your
backdoor to see your breath escape into the cold air. When that time comes, our
journey into the mountains will begin.
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