It’s been a long off-season, but it has not been a season off. I stopped trout fishing back when the temps were in the 90’s and the rain had ceased falling, so I guess that was around the Dog Days of Summer. Fishing conditions were restored by early October, but I was consumed by other priorities….. three of them to be exact. Top of the list was to harvest a bull elk on public land. Second was to harvest a whitetail deer with a recurve bow. Third was to harvest a whitetail with my 50 caliber Hawken. Then, the “off season” would be over and I could again chase little blue lines.

Over the last decade my focus has shifted to the way I interact with nature – wanting to be on as even of ground as I can with the game I pursue. Not that I ever was much of a bait fisherman, nor was I one to hunt over bait – but I desired to go a step beyond that and to make it as intimate as possible. So I took up the fly rod, I began tying my own flies, I began reloading my own ammunition, I put away the compound and dedicated myself to the trad bow, and I carried a muzzle loader more than a rifle.

When one chooses to pursue things in this way, and it is a choice, one is choosing the harder path; but the path is much more meaningful. It forces you to slow down, demands time and effort, requires patience, deals many failures, and rewards with ultimate satisfaction.

In September a whitetail fell quickly to a 200 grain broadhead launched from my circa 1960 Bear Kodiak recurve. Then, on a crisp December morning, smoke hung in the air long after the echo of the Hawken went silent and the doe fell to rest.