The gentle gurgling of an ice cold mountain stream washing over the rocky bottom.
Sky so blue, you can't stop looking at it.
The smells. Juniper and Sage. Tall pines and quaking aspens. Damp canvas and woodsmoke. Sweat. Frosted morning air.And a freshly used wallow.
The sights. A rainbow disappearing over a distant peak. Jagged terrain of elk country. Sunrise, and sunset.The golden blanket of aspens along a nearby slope. Cows with calves, and rutting bulls. Bears, Lions, and coyote.A warm tent and a hot meal after a long day afield.
The Sounds. Magpies squawking in the trees. Coyotes howling on a distant ridge. The rumbling bugle of a herd bull rounding up his cows. The crunch of frosty grass underfoot.
This is elk country. Where every step affords a tapestry of new views. Where dreams of matching the survival skills of a mature bull are pitted against your predatory skills as hunter and your skill as a tradtional archer. All the work. All the planning. All the preparation come down to one opportunity.
Aching muscles, blistered feet, tired legs and burning lungs. They cannot dampen the spirit when that first bugle resonates across the mountain range. Man vs beast. Will the mountains yeild their treasures, or leave you wanting more?
Will the highs and lows of a demanding hunt sap you of your resolve, or will the dream push you through it?
Its almost time.
Topic: High Mountain Dreams (Read 206 times)
