As hunting season was about to start, I received a text from a fellow female raft guide, Karlee. Karlee and I know each through the rafting community and most of our interactions are are either on the boat ramp, or on the river. We both have a deep connection to water, and when we would raft past each other, you could see it in our smiles.
Hunting season was just right around the corner when I received a DM on Instagram from Karlee, inquiring if she could tag along on one of my hunts. She went on to tell me how she took hunters safety and was looking to learn the skill of becoming a hunter. Coming from a family of non-hunters Karlee was truly starting from scratch, and the fact that she reached out to me, was such an honor.
A couple weeks later I head down the bumpy, rocky four by four road to pick up Karlee as she is going to tag along for the next couple days. The first thing Karlee tells me was "Draya I'm going to be honest, I'm pretty nervous."Good! You should be!" I tell her, for change only comes when we are uncomfortable.
The afternoon sun beat down and as we hiked the steep hillside covered in dark timber, and sweat of green, black and brown rolled down our cheeks. Two bulls had been cruising past camp the past two nights, so I had a pretty good idea of where these elk were hiding during the day. We made our way up a aspen grove, bench by bench when I came to a halt. I knew this was the spot for the evening. We settle in front of a massive fur tree, standing still, breathng calm, listening, watching, waiting for any movement. As the sun dips behind the horizon we hear a stick break. Knowing we are right in their path we presume position as if the bull were to walk by at any second. Not much later a cow peaks her head out into the meadow in front of us, sniffing the air and after taking a good look, out she walks into the wide open. Two calfs follow behind her, along with another cow and her two calfs. They slowly feed their way through the meadow just 20 yards from us. The wind is perfect, and I wonder where is this bull? Now is the time to show up buddy. The cows continue to feed past us as disappearing into the thick aspens. As the daylight fades we throw on our headlamps and head back to camp.
So much time is spent, sitting and listening.
While Karlee was out hunting with me we saw, moose, bear, elk, deer, and birds of all kinds. One morning we bugled back and forth with several bulls, constantly moving in to try and get closer. The temperatures started to rise and the elk became mute so we made our way back to the main trail. As we came to an opening I saw a elk on the far ridge, it was heading for the dark timber and it was moving quickly. I blasted a bugle, hoping he would stop, and maybe we could call him in. Uninterested, he disappeared into the thick scrub oak. We knew exactly where we needed to go, and made quick work of it. We find ourselves back at the wallow the elk have been hitting and as soon we we set up on the hillside I cow called and he called back instantly from the timber just 100 yards in front of us. So we sit, and we wait, hoping at some point he comes to the wallow to show off, curious on where the cows are.
Logan decided to sneak back down and make his way ever so slow through the timber hoping to sneak up on this bull in his bed. As Karlee and I sit and watch from the hillside we see the bull go through a small cleaning in the timber and just a minute later Logan pops out of the timber, looking up at us with his hands up, shrugging.
We head back to camp for lunch and head to the river to take the dogs for a swim, skinny dip and fill up our water jugs. The river is cool but refreshing as air temperatures are in the 80's.
That evening Logan and I decided to split up, hoping we can increase our odds. He heads out to where Karlee and I seen the cows and calfs the first night, and Karlee and I head to the wallow to sit for the evening. A spike comes running full speed through and we can't help but wonder what spooked it? Was it a bear? Or perhaps it was the herd bull chasing him out?
The following morning we head towards where we seen the bull on the ridge the day before, and as the sun comes up the hillsides glow orange, red, and yellow. Karlee (who is much taller then me) motions to me that there is a bull right below us. I can barely see his antler tips and I instantly know it's the bull we saw yesterday. Winding us he moves off.
So, we move on. Making our way up the creek we follow fresh tracks, hoping we will eventually catch up with them. At one point we hear a bugle not too far off, but he pushes his cows away no longer responding to our calls.
Taking a break to listen Karlee pulls out the whiskey and as we chat we don't want this hunt to be over as both Karlee and I have realized how special the last couple days have been. We have become sisters, we share a love for the river and now a love for hunting. We talk about hunting and whether or not Karlee should start hunting with a rifle, or with a bow. I tell her, "if I was you, I'd start with a bow."
We stumble upon this as we make our way down the trail to camp....
And when we get to camp, I find this on my tailgate.
Literally the best thing to come back to!! We empty or packs, grab game bags, and knives and head out to find Logan and his bull!
As Logan and I field dressed his bull Karlee jumped right in, holding the legs as we cut, and transfering them to the game bags in the shade. I took a video of her with a heavy pack full of meat, she had the biggest smile on her face.
Me: "Karlee, what do you think of hunting?"
Karlee: "I'm hooked. For life."
I asked Karlee to sum up her experience and here's what she sad.
"Profound. I've been engaging in outdoor activity the majority of my life, but never felt as connected as when I was "hunting" (tagging along). There's something mystifying about the hunters relationship with their surroundings. The subtleties that are noticed, engaging all five senses, reverting back to our primal instincts. It's terrfying how much I have to learn, yet awe inspiring. I feel like words don't do it justice, and I know that sounds dramatic and it may not be for everyone, but for me it's life changing. To feel this way about tagging along and going on scouts, glassing.....it's like finding a door, casually opening it and then realizing it was a fork in the road and you can't go back. Because you don't want to. There's too much to see, engage in, grow into. I just simply look at nature differently now, and I'm so thankful. Thankful as a woman I was welcomed into this world and not shied away by it's overwhelming-ness. So truly thankful. It's hard to put it into words how I feel about it. There's moments, like cows passing us, and sitting in the forest drinking whiskey, realizing I had to leave and didn't want to. Learning the smell of the elk and feeling how much a leg weighed and touching it's head and body, those were huge moments. But, so was sitting at the wallow for hours in silence, hearing distant bugling, the glow of the forest near the creek, and seeing the moose. When I use to hike in country like that, I'd be sure to make noise. Don't surprise the bear, let the forest know yor there. To do the opposite, was way more profound for me. Don't let the forest know your there, look, listen, and be still. Stop frequently, dont just try and make miles, make calculated steps. You're a guest and the goal is to see how it lives without you."If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it actually make a noise? Fuck yes it does, and there are a ton of ears around that heard it, just no one posting about it." -Karlee Cashel
There is no qestion about the camaraderie that hunting creates. As a hunter, and guide the relatonships created and made stronger while pursuing wild game is a connection so raw and real and I hold so close to my heart.
WHAT'S YOR WILD??
Comments