Nobody in my family hunted. I always had to.
Finding my way in the woods that I love, answering whispers and chasing theories leave little room for discussion and second guessing, even if nobody else were there. Discussing where to go and when to meet up would put my mind in a different place. It would also constrain my experience. What if I had to be someplace in half an hour, (I gotta watch a clock now?) and I had just gotten an inkling, feeling, message that I should be at the Bear Poo Hall from now until dark? Sorry. I gotta go with my gut, cut the scheduling, and let the magic work.
My husband has helped me drag three deer, Bill Q. Helped with my first kill, Pete E. and Sean P. helped with my first muzzleloader buck, but the rest have been drug by my sorry a…
I know a lot of folks like to map out a hunt as though it were a tactical mission, enter as a team and take the citadel. They probably come out with more meat than I do. I am chasing other things.
I hunt alone. Love it. In hunting alone, in solo conversation, I find, um… myself!
That is what hunting means to me. A way to connect with the Creator, to know myself better, trust myself, and to make myself worthy to receive gifts of sustenance, spirit, and self-worth. To each his own.
Hunt well and honorably,
Killdeer