with the hunting season upon us, and hunting on my mind, i thought i would recap my 2010 blacktail hunt for your reading pleasure...
as a city slicker, growing up on the wet-side of the state, i discovered the joys of hunting while attending WSU (graduated 2008). with the fertile and game-rich soil of the Palouse and no-lack of buddies willing to get me into the sport i eased into the sport of hunting with some pheasant, chuckar, dove and white-tail pursuits in 2007.
upon graduation i got a job, packed up my truck and moved back to Seattle. far from the beautiful rolling hills and critters that i loved to pursue. yearly, i would make the 5+ hour trek east for a weekend or two every October/November and drive back with an empty truck and intact deer tag. 3 years of hiking with a rifle gave me a real appreciation for the sport and God's mighty creation. i never refer to these years as 'unsuccessful' as they successfully provided me with so so much. but every year my freezer was venison free.
in 2010, i decided to shake things up. try something new. hunting on the wet-side of the sate would allow me more time in the woods and less time behind the wheel. i hooked up with a couple buds who bought a little shack on Hood Canal with public land and critters a-plenty. two weeks before the mod-fire opener we did a little scouting and i quickly realized that hunting the coast was gonna be a lot different from hunting the rolling hills and open terrain of eastern washington.
opening day we hit it hard. hunting from sun up to sun down with no luck and no deer. day 2 we set up in a new area. knowing very little about this new location i was hunting blind. as we prep'd for our evening hunt my buddies set me up on a little opening that looked less-then-promising. if i recall correctly, my butt was firmly planted on a busted TV and my scope was on a burned out car bumper that was next to a mattress and a few tires. pristine, huh?
about an hour before sunset i was getting antsy and thought to myself, "if i'm lucky i might see a coyote [...] no way im shoot'n a deer tonight." then i felt a real distinct notion from within telling me to get up and walk the trail back to the rig. now i am a patient hunter. maybe too patient. and i will NEVER leave my stand if i have reasoned to sit there till sunrise or sunset. but this was different... so i jumped up and starting back down the logging road and out of the corner of my eye i see the setting sun beaming golden light clear on some tall trees off the trail and thru the thicky-thick brush. now that can only mean one thing: a cleaning in front of the trees that are getting lit up! so i wrestled my way thru some nasty brush (making a racket) and emerged in an absolute oasis.
i found myself standing in a massive opening. part pond, part grass, surrounded by thick brush and a jagged treeline. the soft ground told me that this place was booming with critters. i let things quiet down around me for a few minutes and slowly start to glass my new honey hole. as i turn to the right i see something move. binos down. rifle up. i find myself scoped in on a little spike buck. now in this GMU, any buck goes. the more stringent GMUs on the eastside had me passing on much bigger bucks. but here i am, scoping in my first legal buck of my lifetime.
the shot was clean. i fired off hand and didn't give myself much time to think or let the adrenaline kick in. buck down. i stood still. waiting, what seemed like 3 hunting seasons for my buck to breath his last. the bullet stopped him in his tracks. he didn't take more then 2 steps before laying down in the brush. as i walked over to him, i stood proud. but was also overcome with the gravity of the situation. hours upon hours upon days upon weeks in the woods culminated in a single shot. i was a hunter. i had successfully harvested a deer that would provide me food and memories not-soon forgot.
the Lord saving me from my sin, meeting my bride, my engagement/wedding day and harvesting my first buck rank highest among the memories most deer to my heart.
