That’s why it’s funny in a way that I find myself almost 15 years later living in Greenville, North Carolina; where hunting is a way of life and lifetime hunting licenses are purchased at birth along with bib and bottle. Where eight in ten people, if you ask what they’re doing any day of the week, will be doing some form of hunting. The other two will be fishing!

My exploration of the hunting world started as a means to an end. I wanted to meet people, being new in a new place, and hunting was a way to connect; a conversation starter. I soon found my exploration turned from just dipping one toe into the pool to plunging straight off the high dive. What was at first a mere spark of interest turned into a blazing fire of obsession. But I am getting ahead of myself. The bridge between "just giving hunting a try" to it being a part of my life took place on the day of my first kill. This is also the first day I had ever shot a gun or ever been hunting before. I know, I know…I often run before I walk.

I have to credit my Dad and my newly found hunting friend, Bryan, for helping me off that high dive. A conversation with my Dad during a visit home made me realize I should take advantage of my new surroundings to learn a new skill that I may very well end up liking. It would also be an opportunity to connect with him and his side of the family on a whole new level. My friend Bryan has a passion and knowledge for hunting that amazes me. He awakened a want in me to experience it for myself.  So when I made the decision to become a pupil of the art of hunting, he was the natural choice to be my sensei. He would be the Mr. Miyagi to my Daniel-Son. I figured while learning a sport where flying bullets are involved, it’s always good to be with someone you trust.

That fateful day was just supposed to be a target shooting event. Bryan, two of his friends, and I headed out to a dirt field. I didn’t know what to expect; all I had going for me was the small bit of knowledge from an online hunter education course. I knew reading about how a gun was fired and actually firing one just might be a little different. I figured the worst that could happen is I’d completely miss the target, fall on my butt, and have three guys standing over me pointing and laughing. I grew up sandwiched between two brothers so it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

I’m sure the guys didn’t have much faith in me because they first positioned me about 10-20 feet from a piece of cardboard, gave me a shotgun, and basically told me to point and shoot. I thought I could probably just throw the gun and hit the target but I reminded myself they know what they’re doing, I don’t. When I held that shotgun up to my cheek and got ready to pull the trigger, I could feel my heart start beating faster. I took a few deep breaths to calm down; I didn’t expect that, I didn’t expect that shot of adrenaline. I pointed the gun and pulled the trigger. Amazingly, I didn’t fall on my butt. The kick back of the shotgun wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be and I actually had a pretty good pellet spread on the cardboard. Instantly I wanted to do it again. The hooks of hunting had started to make their way through my veins.

We went about 100 yards back and I had graduated to actually shooting at a target instead of a piece of old cardboard. I guess I must have done something right; my confidence grew since I was being moved further from the target rather than closer. The guys took some turns at shooting their rifles before it was my turn again. I stood in the bed of my friend’s truck and used the roof as a rest for support. I was shooting a bolt action rifle with a scope this time and after a quick tutorial, I was ready to go. I thought to myself “Aim, take a deep breath, hold it, and squeeze the trigger…” As I squeezed the trigger and braced myself, nothing happened. Darn, forgot the safety! Ok, I thought to myself again “SWITCH OFF THE SAFETY…Aim, deep breath, hold it, and squeeze…” As I focused in on the target everything else around me faded away: the guys were gone, the sounds of cars passing on the road were silenced, and it was just me in that field. I looked through the scope, aimed the crosshairs on the center of the target, took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger, holding the rifle tight against my shoulder. I felt the kick against my shoulder and the shot rang out. “That was good” said Bryan “you’re right there, just a little high.” He showed me how to eject the casing and load the rifle for another shot. “That felt good” I thought It felt right. The second shot was just a little high again but the third was right on. I was exhilarated! I did much better than I expected and enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would. Deeper the hooks went in.

The sun had started to go down and the other guys started to pack up to head home. That’s when Bryan looked at me and said, “So, let’s go out and find you a deer.” “Now?!?” I asked “Seriously?” My voice was a little higher and squeakier than I would’ve liked. He was serious alright. He must’ve known something at that point. Either he knew I was on the brink of being sucked into the hunting world and just needed that last fix to be totally addicted or he just wanted to see what I would do when confronted with a deer. Either way, I’m glad he pushed me. When sensei says his car is dirty, I say wax on, wax off.

We went to this large soy bean field surrounded by woods. He handed me some camo to put on, an orange hat, and the gun. That’s when it hit me that he wasn’t kidding; I actually might shoot something today. Dusk was setting in, the sun just at the horizon. We walked the tree line, stopping every few feet to look around and listen. As we walked Bryan pointed out signs of deer traffic here and there. I was half listening and half reciting to myself “Ok, I switch off the safety, aim above the deer’s shoulder, take a deep breath and hold it, then squeeze the trigger…just don’t forget the safety!” We had brought this big bean bag thing with us that I could use as a rest while I was sitting on the ground. I pictured myself seeing the deer in the distance, getting set up, and taking a nice, clean shot.

Well…it didn’t quite work out that way. As we were walking Bryan said “Shhhh…don’t move!” I froze mid step and didn’t see a thing at first, but suddenly, about 75 yards in front of us, this nice big doe walked right into the field. Bryan whispered to me, “You don’t have time to sit down; you’ll have to shoot standing up. Go ahead, whenever you’re ready.” I held the gun up to my cheek, my hands were shaking and I felt rushed. I felt like the deer was going to get away. As I tried to aim the rifle free standing, I could feel and see the muzzle of the gun moving around. My arms felt like rubber and they weren’t functioning properly. It was at that moment I mentally slapped myself in the face. Why was I letting myself get all worked up, just because I’m holding a gun? “This is silly” I told myself, “and probably why people miss or are poor shots.” I took a few deep breaths and repeated my mantra, “safety off, aim, deep breath, hold it, and squeeze…” At that moment, as I aimed, the world faded away again and I knew I was going to make the shot.

The shot wasn’t perfect, I was aiming right above the deer’s shoulder but actually hit about one foot high on its back. But I did hit it; not bad for my first time! The deer stumbled a few steps into the tree line, but just a few feet. At this point I realized I had put so much thought into how to shoot the deer I had no idea what to do after I actually got the deer.  I looked to my sensei for guidance. Bryan said he’d usually drive his truck back but wasn’t sure if he could get it back this far, that we might have to drag it. At this point, I felt like Wonder woman after drinking about 20 cups of coffee. “Drag it, no problem!” I said. I was so motivated to drag the deer back that Bryan didn’t mention he was joking with me about the truck; he could easily have driven it back there. So he took one leg and I took the other and we drug it back through the field. Let’s just say dragging a deer about a mile or two isn’t as easy as you would think. We arrived at the truck breathing heavy and sweating profusely, but I was utterly satisfied! This is about the time those hooks had made their way through my veins and straight into my soul; I was completely addicted.

Now it’s a week later and I’ve been out a few other times. No other hits yet, but I’m saving myself for a nice buck, six points or higher. Every time I go out, my love affair with hunting grows stronger. I just purchased my first rifle and eagerly await its arrival. I’ve thought a lot lately about hunting and why I like it so much, why it’s engrained itself into me. And the conclusion I came to is this:

Nothing else I have ever done has made me feel so proud and humble at the same time. Hunting is about pushing yourself and working at making yourself better. But it’s also about respecting and appreciating God’s creations; about understanding the order of life and one’s place in it. Life gets so chaotic sometimes, that I feel my past and future bearing down on me like a train. At times like this, it gets difficult to just experience life at the present; to be thankful for what you have, when you have it. When I hunt, I feel the confusion and pressure just strip away.  It’s a time I can focus on only the moment at hand and live truly in the now.

I’ve found that this philosophy and these lessons learned have trickled into my life outside of hunting. It’s grounded me, given me some focus in my life when I needed it, and brought me a renewed respect of nature. It’s also drawn me closer to many of my relatives that I had lost contact with over the years. I am finally a part of the life I had originally thought was so mysterious and primitive. I am now just getting started and have a lot to learn, but look forward to the journey and challenges ahead! Now when I get one of those space blankets and camo hats for Christmas, it will be a present well received! The addiction to hunting is one that I welcome and know I won’t shake it for quite some time.