Hunting Is Hard

Hunting is hard! 

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There are a lot of people who don't realize that. They just see the grip and grin photos that depict the end result. If this is the only picture you see, then it is easy to conclude that all hunters are just in it for the trophy. If that's all that hunting was, you will get real bored fast. But hunting is much more than that. Hunting is different for each person involved. Sure there might be some trophy hunters out there who only care about the large rack, but the majority of us are out there because we care. There is more to it. I know that for me, my personal reasons for hunting change every year. I don't always do it for the same reasons. Don't get me wrong, there's always the same core roots of why I'm out there, but different life situations and different lifestyles really change your reason. For example, as a single college student, I really don't need as much meat as my family back home would. I do still hunt for food, but that isn't the priority as much as other things. It is more about the experience. It is a time where I get to test my skills, my knowledge, and my drive. It's a time that shows me who I am and what I am made of. 

I learn a lot when I'm out in the woods. Every trip out there, I learn something new, whether about myself, my creator, or the woods themselves. When you're out in the woods, life gets stripped away, and you get a chance to bask in simplicity. This is the most refreshing feeling after you get bogged down from the hustle and bustle of life.

Enough of my rambling, though. I could go on and on about hunting and what it means to me. Let's get back to the main point. Hunting is hard! As I was saying, this last weekend was a pretty tough weekend in the elk woods. I was reminded that I don't have control over everything while I'm out there. No matter how many times I've taken an elk with my bow, I found that each time is different, and it's tough to say if you've got it figured out after one, two, or even three successful years. This exact fact rang true when my perfect plan turned into a total disaster. It was Saturday the 25th of September, and I wasn't able to hunt that morning. I was stuck driving from another town from the previous day, but that night I would meet up with my father, who would be calling for me this year. Nonetheless, I was excited. Not only to hunt elk during the rut, the peak of the rut, mind you, but also to spend time with my dad. It never gets old to take time and hunt with my dad. So much knowledge and wisdom just kind of nonchalantly spills out of him while we are out there. 

That evening finally came, and my dad had arrived at camp. We wasted no time getting ready, and as the hot sun beat down on our heads, we slowly headed to the ridge we were about to hunt. This was kind of our first experience here in a few weeks, so we really didn't know where the elk were. Given the time of the year, they could be anywhere. That's what made this more of a recon mission. We really just needed to get a good idea of where the elk were so that we could hunt them the next day. But it is just how hunting goes, and we just happened to stumble upon them. From previous years hunting there, we know their bedding areas, and we knew that's where they would be. The wind was being a little funky as we headed up the mountain, so we made sure to get it right and get on the backside of the ridge before we did any calling. Once we got into position, the magic happened fast. We could hear bulls screaming their heads off in the drainage right next to us. With the wind in our favor, we started heading that way. A few cows darted across the skyline pretty close to us, so we got into position and started calling in case there was a bull following them. After about 5 minutes, we didn't see any more elk, but we could hear the rest of them in the drainage. We got up and kept going, and as we crested the ridge, we could hear a bull coming our way. My dad stayed back, and I moved forward quickly, trying to get into position. The bull bugled very close, and I was able to get a pinpoint location on him. I crept towards him quickly and tried to get as close as I could. There was a little pathway through the trees, and I was pretty sure the elk would come through it. I made a point to get down it as far as possible so that the shot wouldn't be a frontal shot, but I couldn’t get down it fast enough when I saw the bull coming with his cows following closely behind. I waited until he got to a bush and drew back. At this time, I was down on one knee and trying to shoot underneath a large branch. He stepped out in the open and was facing me. I had to wait with my bow drawn for the right moment to take an ethical shot. He just stood there looking at me, and I figured that he would turn and bolt, so I held my bow in anticipation of this. 

As he turned and gave me a broadside shot, I let the arrow fly. It hit him low, and my heart sank. As he whipped around, I heard the arrow come out the other side of him with a twang. I called from where I stood to calm the elk down, and for the next 10 minutes, I had elk all around me, confused about what had happened. All of his cows returned to me after a little while, so I thought this was a good sign that he had fallen over and was done for. We gave him more time and messed with some of the other elk around. It was close to dark, so we went and followed his blood trail. There wasn't much to follow, and 30 yards from where I shot him, we found the arrow just right where I had heard it fly out. It was a complete pass-through. A little farther from that, I heard a noise and looked up. The bull was getting up out of his bed. He looked hurt, and we didn't have the daylight to follow and try to get a follow-up shot. So we elected to come back in the morning and find him. Those nights are the absolute worst nights of your entire life as a hunter. With all the practice and preparation you put into hunting and ensuring that you are efficient with your weapons and equipment, you dream of making a clean kill. When you are unsure of your shot, and you have to go back to bed before you can get any answers, you're in for a whole night of no sleep. 

The following morning, we went up and tried to follow the blood trail. He made it really hard and wasn't bleeding very much. We kept finding different pools of blood. They kept us going, but there wasn't enough blood to follow, so we had to use our instincts and try to figure out where he was headed. We knew about a water source in the next drainage, and we headed there thinking the bull might have done the same. At the water source, we found some blood. We continued to sidehill looking for him, and around the next corner, as I was busting through the brush, the bull jumped up and started running. He never broke stride as he leaped off of a little rock ledge. He looked totally fine. Like nothing was wrong. I went down and looked at the tracks that he had just made, and he wasn't bleeding any more. I was pretty bummed out that I had wounded this animal, but I was glad that I got to see that he was okay. The rest of the day was pretty hard. If I'm honest, it is still pretty hard. I don't know if I'll ever get over that, and I don’t believe that I should. It's not fun to wound an animal, and it's not fun to lose an animal. As I said, a lot of hard work and preparation goes into each season for me. It all boils down to opportunities like this, but in a way, this adds more to the picture of hunting. I didn't fill my tag, but I did learn valuable lessons. Lessons that you can’t learn any other way. Hunting isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. In fact, most of it isn't. The truth is but one thing.

Hunting is hard!