Hunting Panacea

I woke up at 5:20 a.m., ten minutes ahead of my designated alarm setting. It was dark and I lay for several minutes allowing my eyes to adjust and immediately started going over my list of preparations in my mind.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and reached for the light. I put on my first layer hunting gear and headed to the kitchen—carrying my meds. I took my meds standing by the coffee machine while it warmed up.

I plopped in a caramel-vanilla pod and continued going over my list in my mind.

I moved to the couch and began gathering and assembling my gear. During which time, I was also checking email and my trail camera.

As luck would have it, it had captured a picture of a buck just shortly before 5 a.m. I felt that things were looking up and the evidence of a buck already on the move was a good sign. I was hunting on private land, but it was in the wild so there’s always a chance deer move off the property but one never knows.

I filled up my hand warmer with lighter fluid, made sure it was lit, and shoved it in my coat pocket. I needed to keep my trigger hand warm without the use of a glove.

I finished a second cup of coffee while putting on my bibs and boots. I made sure my small-carry backpack was ready with snacks, water, and miscellaneous items—not excluding my license. I threw on my coat and headed for the garage, a short walk away from the camp.

I dawned my neck gaiter and stocking cap, wrapped the head lamp around my cap, and loaded my rifle. Making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, I stepped outside and headed for my post.

It was cold and dark. The temperature was in the low 20’s with spitting snow. I couldn’t help immersing myself in the cold dark silence.

I walked past the path that led to my camera and shined the light in the off chance of seeing a deer—or any creature. Then down a short hill to my post, secured my rifle in the tripod, and squeezed myself into the chair.

I took a few deep and relaxing breaths and watched the warm air fill the space in front of me and moved slightly away from me and to my right in the stillness. Feeling comfortable, I turned off the head lamp, turned on the red dot on the scope to its lowest setting, and peered through the scope to see nothing.

It was 6:30 and I knew I had another thirty minutes before it would be light enough to hunt.

I sat quiet and still. There was no light. There was no sound. No birds, squirrels, or any creatures. No vehicles on the road below. It was quiet as quiet could be—outside of my own breathing.

With the slightest hint of air movement, it felt still as still could be.

As the morning light began to creep into my world, I made out the outline of trees surrounding me and they weren’t moving. The weeds weren’t moving. There was just stillness.

I found myself gazing down the hill and into its abyss. Time stood still. I was ready.

This is the day.

I wasn’t certain any bucks would appear. I also wasn’t certain whether a trophy buck would appear. I was certain that I’d error on the side of caution with any and every shot and not just pull the trigger for the sake of pulling it.

I’d captured pictures of “wonky” deer. That’s what I call deer that have malformed antlers. Not really trophy material but still worth considering. There were four documented wonky deer. Each one legal and with one good antler. The other antler…well not so much. The one had a nice wide rack with only two points and kind of flat on the one side. Still worthy, in my mind.

I was hunting not only for the sport of it, but also for the “one with nature” aspect. And the meat. Venison is one of my favorites.

I sat in tranquility for about thirty minutes and until there was enough natural light for everything to come into view. I took another peer through the scope and was ready to go. All I needed was a deer out the end of my scope.

Let’s do this.

The wind had picked up slightly, as if mother nature had tapped me on the shoulder to remind me of the bitterness. The wind engulfed me from behind—like a wave at the beach. I was under the weather.

Three deer appeared about one hundred fifty yards out. They were does, but I followed them with my scope as they crossed from one wood line to the other.

It was the shot of adrenaline I desperately needed.

I sat still for another two hours slowly growing colder. Nothing was moving. Well, except for the damned squirrels off to my left.

Another two hours went by, and I was too cold to sit any longer. So, I went for a walk. I couldn’t stir any deer, but I was a whole lot warmer. Feeling good again, I made my way back to my post and re-engaged.

I ate some lunch and drank some water. I’d thought about returning to camp, but I was afraid the moment I left the buck would appear. It was a real fear. So, I stayed, and stayed, and stayed. Stayed so long I lost track of time of day.

Time continued to pass until I noticed daylight dissipating. I only had a short time remaining before dark. I stood up and stretched and tried to get blood flowing to my extremities. I took some deep breaths, looked at the heavens, and returned to my chair.

Withing thirty minutes and with darkness swarming over, three deer appeared about eighty yards out. It looked like they all had antlers. I peered through the scope. Yep. Last one’s a spike and the other two could be legal. The middle one’s too close to call. The front one looks to be legal.

Here’s where it got complicated. I’m color blind. Yes, color blind. So, hunting is a real challenge. I need a contrast of colors to see things and to pick things out. With no snow in the background, it’s even more challenging. Another shot of adrenaline went through me.

It was all very surreal, as they walked from my left to my right. The first was soon to be out of sight and into the wood line. Quickly, decide.

I increased magnification of the scope and determined it “could” be legal. Pull the trigger. Wait, you must be certain.

I took my finger off the trigger and the deer disappeared into the wood line. I’d completely lost track of time and darkness had arrived.

I’m new to hunting and a few years in, but I’ve never understood the hunting experience or the attraction. And now I know. It’s contagious, calming, and therapeutic. The possibilities of each day are endless.

The day had completed and somehow, I felt complete. There was only my awareness; endless, silent, complete.

Yet even completeness can stir with possibility.