The Journey of Life

My hunting season had a positive outlook in the beginning, a Montana elk and deer tag were in my pack, I had trail camera pictures of some really nice bucks in South Dakota. It was looking to be another great hunting season. The year before I had a hunting season to remember, I had shot an elk, an antelope, and a 201 inch whitetail. I thought I was on top of my game so this year would be no different, with a positive outlook and hard work one can create some of their own luck. Then without warning my hunting year started to unravel like a deer shot in the guts, the deer was going to die, but the tracking job was going to be tough.
Sometimes you have to wonder what God’s plans for you are, the unraveling started in August with my mother being diagnosed with Non Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. She did not know how bad it was, and if it was bad, she had been contemplating if she would have chemo or not. Thank God it was not all over her body, she started chemo and hopefully that will send the cancer into remission. I decided then, that I could always go to Montana but I only had one mother, so I would try to spend a little more time hunting near their home. My Mom is great and would want me to hunt, but the time out of the stand I could spend talking to her. My October and November had a plan. I did hunt in Montana on a shorter four day hunt with little success.
Then in October a good thing happened to me I was offered a full time position at Triggers Pro Shop. I had been working part-time at Triggers since the doors had opened, it is a hunting store that caters to archery and rifle hunters with a little fishing thrown in. A place where I get to talk about hunting almost all the time. This was a one of the bright lights that had come this season; I accepted the position and started work in mid October. Then without warning once again, I was shot in the guts again, my wife told me she was divorcing me. I admit it was not all her I am to blame for the break up also, I am not a perfect person but that was a tough thing to handle. I try to be very positive with my outlook on life but it felt like I was being wounded at every turn.
I am not going to go in depth about my situation, but I was depressed and had felt why me lord. Then after a few weeks reality came to roost at my doorstep, I was alone. What did I do to deserve this God, were the questions that kept racing through my mind. Then I decided to search for the answers, I made an appointment with a counselor, and at work, Pastor Kelly Lovelace walked in he is a fellow hunter and I trusted him, so he began to help me with my spiritual questions. I will have to admit, I cried on a lot of shoulders and thanks go out to all my friends and family who listened and cared, thanks a ton. I have always believed that we as hunters go on more spiritual adventures because if we are climbing into a treestand or hiking up a mountain we are getting closer to God. Sitting in the wilds of wherever we are we can contemplate the path to take and ask for help in pointing us in the direction that will help us be happy and maybe better people. Questioning now the path that I would take, I talked to the counselor and Pastor Lovelace they both said sometimes healing begins when you help other people. Then like a sign from God I had a customer walk in that told me his daughter Ashley had broken up with her boyfriend and had double doe tags. As we talked I found out that it was in a county near my parents, and I had access to actually a lot of hunting land. I told him that I would facebook her and show her who I was, and he could assure her I was no stalker. At the end of the day her dad had called Ashley and we set up the hunt. After listening to Bobby Bowden in the video series Getting Coached, I realized that this was my calling, I am good at hunting and this is how I can give back.
The day before the hunt I went back to scout and hunt myself. Getting to my parents about an hour before daylight, I had breakfast with them then went hunting getting a nice buck within an hour of getting there. This gave me hope for the weekend. I took care of my buck then went scouting because I wanted Ashley to have a great time with opportunities to shoot a doe. Seeing where the deer were I started formulating my plan for the morning hunt.
Ashley arrived late in the evening she had forgotten her tags and realized it about fifty miles down the road and turned around and went back and got them. Since she got there so late we packed her things into the house, I showed her the room she would be staying in, discussed when we would get up, then went to our rooms and got some needed rest.
Waking up with the central South Dakota wind blowing, I knew it was going to be a frigid morning, but the deer should be active longer. With the colder weather expectations and anticipation were running high. We had breakfast as the vehicle was warming up which also gave me opportunity to get to know Ashley a little better. I had only really talked on the phone with her a short time, so with breakfast in our bellies, winter clothes on and her rifle in hand we were off to my first destination. As I drove into the place I wanted to park, I spotted some does by a dam, plus some deer farther out in the corn stubble. At least we were seeing the deer I had scouted and now it was time to sneak in and get a shot.
Using the combined corn stubble and the roll of the land as cover, we carefully stumbled through the frozen stubble. The deer that had been at the dam had moved out of range by the time we had gotten to it, but there were other deer that we could try to get into range on. Ashley and I looked over the situation and once again started to make our stalk on the other deer. Hunched over then crawling through the stubble we got ourselves into position the deer were walking towards us, excitement was building as a 135 inch buck was closing the distance. This was the first time I had a buck almost bust a hunt but the doe finally presented a shot. Ashley settled her scope on the doe and fired missing the doe cleanly, but the deer did not really react to the shot and actually moved to a better position for a shot. With the doe standing broadside presenting a great shot, Ashley showing great poise and not being rattled by the miss aimed at the doe and fired putting the doe down where it stood. I told her great shot and was proud of her, others might have panicked from the miss but Ashley was like a rock, focused on the task at hand. After pictures and congratulating her some more we loaded up the deer.
With one doe down we started searching for another one. As we drove from hunting spot to hunting spot we talked about hunting, growing up in the country and life in general. Talking to Ashley, I realized what I had been told, giving back would help and it was. Then we glassed a buck, we hoped that there would be some does around, so once again we were stumbling and sneaking through the cornfield the stalks almost felt like they were grabbing at our feet. Closing the distance I was getting confident that Ashley would have her second doe, but to our right a buck busted us. Although he did not spook off very far, so Ashley and I walked back to my Xterra and moved to a new location. Once again we were after some deer this group of deer had more bucks then does but we were sure we could get a shot at one of the doe’s. Crawling through the field we finally got a good setup on a doe. With seven bucks around Ashley had to be patient for the deer to move for a good shot. With her rifle on the shooting sticks and a doe in front of her she shot, the shot was a little far back. The deer scattered but we could see her doe. Trailing, the doe it would not give us a good shot until it laid down by a rock pile. Then sneaking around to where the deer was bedded, we saw the doe and Ashley quickly and calmly put the doe down for the count. Once again I told her I was proud of her and she had made a quick decision and a great shot.
The next day I boned out Ashley’s does, and then Ashley started home. Boning out my deer I was thinking to myself how this had started the healing process and how giving is sometimes better than receiving. I thank God and Ashley for giving me this opportunity to heal my soul. There is something about being in the outdoors that helps the mind and soul but being able to also achieve goals of shooting two does and creating new friendships was the start of my spiritual journey.

Alive in Montana

After a kiss goodbye and an I love you to my wife, I am off. Pointing my Xterra west with Montana as its destination, I am going solo on this adventure. Driving down the road I have much anticipation, it is one of those years when you feel things just might come together. With the radio on I hear a song by Kenny Chesney coming through my speakers. I am listening to the song and trying to grasp the message of the song. The song is “I’m Alive” and as I listen, a lyric is sung that probably describes my feeling about hunting as well as the wild lands I hunt. The verse that gets me thinking is “It’s good for the soul when there is not a soul in sight”. Shutting off the radio I think to myself how true it is. Not that I don’t like hunting with friends and family, but when I am alone the wild starts to cleanse my soul of the clutter that builds up with the trials and tribulations of everyday life.
Many miles later I arrive at my hunting area, with maybe an hour before light. I put on my camo, get my GPS to mark my location and with my pack and my bow ready I am off. Climbing a steep peak that has been a good glassing point, the curtains of night start to open and let the morning light enter starting a new day. Resting for a moment I begin glassing the meadow below me. Spotting elk I hope for a nice bull to fill my binoculars, but all I see are a few cows and raghorns so I continue climbing.
Reaching the top of my destination, I glass the surrounding landscape with hopes of a big bull. Once again I glass the meadow wanting a big boy to show but he doesn’t appear with the others. As I keep on glassing my binoculars are filled with a little herd in the distance, a big bull materializes among them. Knowing that I have a lot of ground to cover, I move quickly. After about forty-five minutes I arrive at the area I last saw them. They had moved so I work my way slowly in the direction I thought they had gone. Soon I spot them but now I have a new problem. I have some beef cattle between the elk and myself. Watching I wish that I could somehow fly over the cattle and get closer to the bull, but instead I have to wait patiently as the elk feed into the draw. Looking at every inch of the edge making sure I wouldn’t be seen. Making my way to their last known location, but as elk can often do, they disappeared. Listening for any type of elk sound I sit contemplating what to do next. This is what I love about hunting solo; it’s my decision good or bad. Carefully I walk down the draw looking for sign and watering areas that I may have missed while scouting. Glassing a ridge I see a cow and a six point bull. Surveying the landmarks for my next plan of attack, I plot my landmark points in my head. Running down a creek bottom I come to the hill I need to climb. As I climb it and cross its top, with my plan still working, I think to myself so far so good. Slipping through the forest closing in on the critical distance, with the elk in sight, I carefully raise my rangefinder. Ranging a jack pine of which the elk is moving towards, with the breeze in my favor and a little over confidence, I patiently wait for the bull to cross the opening. The cow passes and stops perfectly in the opening. Now for the bull to do the same, He is approaching meandering and feeding. She gets closer to the opening; I raise my Bowtech Admiral and slightly move my foot stepping on a twig. The bulls ears perk up, all I need is four steps. After a long standoff he turns and leaves me without a shot. I am kicking myself inside but as a bow hunter I am thankful to see the things I see and have a bow in my hand as I hunt these kings of the mountain.
The rest of the day is not as eventful, but as the sun is setting I spot some elk feeding putting their location in my mental GPS. I hike back to camp with the scent of pine and sage filling my nostrils. This has been a great day.
Morning comes early as I eat my oatmeal contemplating my plans for today’s hunt. After I finish my oatmeal I am off. Once again I climb up to my lookout point. The sky is turning to that pre-dawn purple and there is a slight breeze blowing in my face. After a little while of glassing I hear bulls bugling, picking out the best sounding bugle I start moving quickly towards the bull. I bugle once to keep him located. Topping a hill I see him, a nice six point. I sneak to a spruce tree drop my pack and put an arrow on my rest. Ranging a tree and a sage brush I cow call and the bull comes in to my call. I raise my Admiral and draw, my arrow comes off my rest with the bull standing broadside and adrenaline pumping through my veins, I try to flick my arrow back onto my rest cutting my finger on my broad head in the process. With blood dripping like I had been the one shot, I hit my release. The arrow sails away missing the bull low. No excuses, I panicked, I practice every day and shoot 3D’s all summer long. I am confident but I missed. Now I am kicking myself. This is not my first elk hunt but it is feeling like it. With the wind swirling I start for my camp with bruised confidence and bleeding finger.
Getting back to camp I know a stitch or two would be good but a little super glue and a band-aid fix me up. Then I shoot my bow without panic and hit the bullseye. After lunch and a little rest I am still a little disheartened. I read an article in a magazine about keeping a positive attitude. I realize that as the song said I am alive and that I will not succeed without a positive attitude. The mishaps only make you stronger. So with a positive thought I get ready to hike back into the area hoping that the evening hunt will be better than the morning’s mishaps and that any blood drawn won’t be my own.
Leaving I know I have a couple of hours before I feel the animals will be moving. Picking up my bow and hiking in watching, the breeze direction and after an hour, I find a tree in a saddle of a hill and decide this is a good place to wait for some action. Taking off my pack, I sit down and lean against the pack, I just took off, sitting there, and I doze off. Thinking I hear something, I open my eyes and to my surprise I see a cow elk feeding not twenty yards from where I lay motionless. Thinking to myself, wind please don’t swirl and the cow spooks taking her friends with her. Looking to the sky I ask the elk gods what are you trying to tell me?
Not sulking, I grab my pack and bow, finding my way down another ridge and begin a calling sequence. Waiting for about a half hour I move, crossing a draw and climbing the other side, I hear a faint bugle. I move fast and try to close the distance. The breeze is working for me perfectly. Bugling to keep him located, he bugles back. I am getting close. He is at the top of the draw and I am now standing in a little jack pine stand. Assessing the situation I drop my pack and put an arrow on my Admiral. It looks like a great situation. I have a trail coming down next to my ambush spot. I cow call once and hear a crash as a cow comes straight up from the draw below me. That was quick I thought. Then the bull comes up from the same spot, I know I am going to shoot him, things are happening very fast. Drawing my bow the bull stops, he is behind a short jack pine and I need two steps. Focusing on where he should be when he clears the obstacle he takes his two steps and stops perfectly. With my twenty yard pin settled on his vitals I release my arrow. The Wac’em tipped arrow disappears into him, he runs along the side of the hill. I start cow calling then run up the hill to glass and see if I can see where the bull might have gone. Glassing the open bottom and the other hillside I see nothing. After about a half hour I decide to side hill back to my pack, then follow the blood trail when I hear air escaping from the bull. I sit another fifteen minutes. Knocking an arrow I sneak around the hill, spotting the bull dead. He had rolled down the hill when he died and got his antlers caught between a tree and some rocks. Elated I walk down to the bull with a big smile on my face. For a moment I hold the kings antlers and thank him for the meat he is about to give. After taking pictures of the bull the work really began. I boned him out and finally finished packing the meat out at about two a.m. The day may have been long but my journey was great, and yes, my soul was energized and yes I was “Alive”

Rick Hanson
wapiti_24@hotmail.com

If a picture can speak a thousand words then how many words does a trophy game mount speak? This week I have in my possesion a trophy; it is a special moment frozen in time. The special moment is when my nephew, Brian Galliher of Jennings County, Indiana, pulled this monstrous Large Mouth Bass from a local fishing hole. Now is this fish a state record…. no of course not. It is however going to be the most memorable fish of this young man’s long future of life in the outdoors. 

It is artifacts like this fish mounted on my nephew’s wall that will keep him striving to return to the outdoors time after time for the same success. If a picture can speak a thousand words than a game mount will whisper a million reminders and temptations to you to return to the outdoors that you love so very much. The skillful work of a taxidermist is extremely underated in my book. They bring to life our most valuable memories as well as our stories and freeze that moment in time for us to cherish forever. Today as I visited our taxidermist to pick up my nephew’s fish I was able to see a lot of species of animals in a wide array of different progress. I thought to myself “What a collection of stories and memories”. Could you imagine all of the hunter’s that had harvested these animals telling there stories together? Our taxidermist, Todd Buchanan of Buck’s Pro Mount, has a large responsibility on his shoulders to re-create each and every one of those stories. 

 I’m confident that all of these stories and memories are in good hands with Buck’s Pro Mount. Todd has been recreating these stories for hunters for over 27 years and does a wonderful job, after all he has been the recipient of multiple awards including the “Public’s Choice Award” from the 2003 Indiana Association of Taxidermist State Competition. 

Taking a trophy to the taxidermist is never a cheap affair, however it is a memory and piece of memorabilia that should last a life time and is worth the expense. The back of Todd’s business card summarizes this for us, “The bitterness of poor quality remains long after the sweetness of low price is forgotten”. So when the time is right, don’t stop and think about the cost of taxidermy, consider the reward of the trophy. 

I often hear comments or questions after a hunt asking “Did you get anything?”, when the answer is no, the question is often followed up with a “that’s too bad” or something similiar. However that is not the way I feel about the hunt at all. A successful hunt does not always end with a harvest; not in my books!

I have never felt closer to nature than when I have the oppurtunity to sit quietly in a treestand and watch nature at it’s best. Those moments right at sunrise when the wooded abode comes alive is what I love. To observe nature’s wonders from my perch in a tree is amazing and relaxing. Those times when a hawk lands on a limb just an arms reach away or the squirrels run and chase one another around like school boys on a play ground; observing the wildlife in it’s natural relaxed state is a surreal moment.

I thrive for the oppurtunity to hunt throughout the stresses of daily life. Those great moments of watching nature is what makes the stresses of my professional life, finances, and relationships all go away. That special time, of me and nature alone, remind me that there is so much more to life than the material things so many others view as important.

I am not down playing the thrill of a successful harvest or the racing of the heart as I draw my bow to harvest a beautiful animal. However, a successful hunt does not end with a wall hanger Whitetail buck for me! Not at all. A successful hunt only means that I had the oppurtunity to connect with nature and be a silent observer.

Join me in celebrating the hunt at http://whitetail-mafia.com/forum

Mankind has suffered countless addictions down through time. Human nature searches for escape, a tonic for the stress of life. My addiction isn’t simply a pastime, but the fulfillment of divine instructions, a privilege. I love, respect, and protect the great outdoors. Honestly, I’m an outdoor addict. When time began God gave us every fowl of the air and beast of the field, to have dominion over and to protect. Rather than partake in an addiction that harms the earth or its inhabitants, I’m trapped in the wonderful addiction of conserving and preserving His gift. My family comes first, but His beautiful creation is second. Yes, I’m addicted but please, don’t judge an addict before you’ve walked in his boots.