I haven’t always been a hunter; it wasn’t until I met my husband that I was even interested in it, even though I’ve always been a wild game eater. Now, 3 years in to being a huntress, I couldn’t imagine my life without hunting. There is nothing quite like spending a day out in the back country. Even though I have been hunting for 3 years, 2017 was my hardest year so far for deer hunting.
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Simultaneously a memory floods my brain—a memory of my first hunt and the lesson that I learned that day. Those of us who are avid hunters will always remember our first hunt and usually the lesson that comes along with the experience. My lesson wasn’t about field dressing or tracking. It was much more than that.
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It was a cloudy, chilly day in December of 2017. I wanted to get out to my spot pretty early. I just had a feeling it would be a good hunt. Being 15 weeks pregnant, I needed to pace myself on getting out there as well. Got to see some early movement of several does and a little spike. After that I didn't see anything for about an hour, and by then it was getting dark. I was just about to pack up when I noticed a deer to my left. My heart began to race when I realized it was a buck with a decent wide rack and a big enough body.
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The words TAG SOUP would be what most would painfully grumble as devastation. Granted, the end goal to my Michigan deer season was to notch and secure my tag on a mature whitetail. It didn’t happen. But amidst all of the feelings that flowed through me on January 1st at the end of a long season, there was accomplishment.
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