On my first bow hunt.
From my earliest memories, I have been drawn by the lore of hunting. I loved - and was captivated by - the stories my Dad would tell of his hunting adventures, but, due to illness in my early childhood, I wasn’t able to go on many hunting trips with the family. The tales they came back with, though, sparked a desire to experience the same adventures that they made so real through their expression filled stories.
When I married, I was thrilled to go on both deer and elk hunts that year with my husband Gary. I didn’t carry a rifle, but I tagged along and was completely taken in by the towering mountains, deep dark canyons, and hogback ridges that seemed suspended in space.
The next year found me staying home with the little bundle of joy that had arrived. I would stay home for a few more years thereafter as more of these little bundles came to our home. The thrill and adventure of hunting was put on hold for a number of years.
In the meantime, Gary had taken up archery hunting and the tales of close encounters intrigued me even more. I had become a big fan of hunting videos and it seemed to always be the archery hunts that drew me in.
In January 2006, Gary surprised me with a Diamond for my birthday - a beautiful Bowtech compound bow! I had been dreaming about getting into bowhunting, but I felt that it would probably never happen. We had a very precious little daughter, Dawnita, whose special needs required very involved care, and I couldn’t see how I would be able to leave her to go on any hunting trips. When Gary presented me with that bow, it gave me the push I needed. He assured me that we would be in an area that was only two hours away from home, and reminded me that we had a very wonderful friend who was a nurse and very capable of caring for Dawnita.
For the next seven months, we went to the indoor archery range as often as we could. Dawnita was such a little trooper and spent many evenings watching Mom and Dad shoot arrows! As soon as the weather permitted, Gary had me try the 3-D targets he had set up around the farm. Just as I would begin to get comfortable, Gary would push me a little further to give me another challenge. In the spring, he bought two climbing tree stands; understand, now, that I am very uncomfortable with heights! I don’t do well on a six-foot step ladder, so I could hardly imagine climbing a tree in a contraption that seemed pretty awkward only to sit suspended in air for hours on end.

Dawnita is not impressed!
Gary was committed to helping me overcome this fear and it was his determination that inspired me. There were no trees on our place substantial enough to support the climbers, but Gary was able to find an old utility pole a neighbor had laying around, and for a price, we had our “tree” for our treestands. Through quite a process, Gary dug a big hole, erected the pole, and poured concrete around the base to make it solid. When I saw what he was willing to go through, and how he ignored all the negative comments that it couldn’t be done, I realized that the least I could do was make an effort to overcome my fears. I can’t say I became fluid and relaxed at it . . . but I was able to accomplish the task.
When the day finally arrived, I was so excited that my stomach was doing flip flops! After being assured and reassured by our dear friend that she and Dawnita would be just fine, we gathered all our gear and headed for the hills. I admit that some of the emotions were very mixed. I was so excited for this chance to experience for myself the adventures I had thrilled to hear about from others, but there were those nagging fears. I had trouble letting go of apprehension in leaving Dawnita, and then there were the fears I knew this adventure was going to challenge me with. Gary had already helped me work through the one fear of heights by giving me all the opportunity to practice with the climber, but there were two other fears I knew would be involved in this hunting adventure: darkness and bears. One of these alone is bad enough, but the two combined cranked the fear factor several notches higher!
The plan was to hike to Gary’s favorite hunting spot - a wallow in an aspen grove. I had heard many tales of this place for several years, and most of them involved a bear or two as the bears are very thick in this area and some of them have a very nasty disposition.
The Wallow
As we hiked to our camping spot through creek bottoms thick with brush, I tried to put all of these bear stories out of my head. When we were getting close to the spot we were going to spend the night, Gary pointed out some very large, and very fresh, bear tracks. That was a very long night even though we were up several hours before daylight! We donned our headlamps and backpacks and headed for the wallow about a mile away. As I was pushing through brush in the inky blackness, I told myself over and over, “There aren’t any bears in these bushes!” The darkness felt very oppressive to me at first, but the farther along we went, the more I began to appreciate the absolute silence and the fresh pre-dawn air. It really was a thrill just to be there.
We were getting very close to the wallow when the stillness was shattered by the crashing and cracking of brush - Gary groaned, “Elk!” Very seldom did they spend the night at the wallow, but that night they had decided to do just that. We decided to go ahead with our plan of getting into our stands as quickly as possible, and hope some other elk would come into the wallow.Gary made sure I was making good progress up my tree with the climber before he disappeared in the blackness and headed for his stand about 60 yards away.
Up a tree!
After about fifteen minutes, as the sunrise spread a soft glow, I began to appreciate where I was. The view was spectacular. Then it hit me rather suddenly- I was cold! Bone deep cold! I distracted myself from this by telling myself I’d soon be so hot I’d wish for the cold! I watched the sun make its way around the hillside, creeping ever so slowly my way. I silently cheered it on!
Finally, I began to focus on why I was up in this tree, and became so aware of every twig snapping and leaf rustling that I nearly drove myself crazy. I was just beginning to feel that I was getting into a groove of listening without being too keyed up and feeling a little more comfortable with being fifteen feet off the ground when I was hit by a wave of drowsiness. My eyelids just simply refused to stay open. I could hardly believe this was happening, but I was finding myself being jerked awake by the safety harness every time I succumbed to sleep. As the day wore on and the sun warmed the earth, I went from cheering on the sun, to wishing it would go behind some clouds!
The thought came to me, “What a study of contradictions this business of sitting in a tree stand brings about. You go from being so cold, you feel you’ll never be warm again to being so hot you think you’ll never be cold again. Then you go from being so keyed up you hear every little sound in the woods, to being so sleepy you can’t keep your eyes open.” But then, we love every minute of this torture! There is just something about being out there - the anticipation of an elk coming that defies all common sense.
We never saw an elk, but for me, it was an eventful day and a rewarding experience. It felt good to prove to myself that I could meet challenges and even if I didn’t completely conquer my fears, I found I could learn to live with them and work my way through them. I can’t wait for that moment when I’m at full draw and it’s about to all come together. I’m hooked.
Gary, taking time to enjoy the view
Note: Several days after this hunt, Gary and our middle son, Todd, went back to that same area. They came across an old cow carcass and there were three bears feeding on it. This was only about 200 yards from where we had spent the night on the hillside. I guess what you don’t know really doesn’t hurt you! They ended up seeing seven different bears that day. I have been up in the area several times since this trip and have yet to see a bear - but I’m not complaining!
Bear that Gary & Todd saw a few days later