At the end of every archery season, I take my unfilled tags and tack them to the wall above my desk. At this point, the wall resembles a mural of what some would call failed hunts. While I wouldn’t call them that, it’s a good thing my family doesn’t rely on my archery acumen to feed us. The tags serve as a reminder that you don’t get second chances stalking deer in the desert, but if you don’t stay optimistic you won’t last long.
So, above all else when I find time to hunt, I have to be hopeful. I have to believe that those cold mornings are going to pay off. When nothing shows up, I have to find ways to stay behind the binoculars long after my eyes ache, even when it seems that there are as many deer in Arizona as there are in Antarctica. I typically get one opportunity a season to stalk a deer and get within bow range. When I blow that chance, I just have to shake it off and smile. This hopeful attitude takes practice, when I missed my first buck after a two-hour stalk, I wanted to sell my bow and retire. The sight of my arrow sailing over the back of a beautiful Coues buck is something that still haunts me, but I couldn’t let it ruin the rest of the hunt. I worked hard to get a second opportunity that trip but it didn’t happen, that’s archery out west. Each time I go out, I remind myself to embrace the challenge and remember why I choose to do it this way. Outside with my family is a better way to spend a weekend than anything else I can think of. I’ll keep going out, I don’t know how long it will take but I know it will happen.
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Bryan Gunn
This blog represents the opinions and ramblings of the author. Be wary of the mind you are about to explore. Archives
February 2023
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