It is hard for me to believe that this will be my fifth hunting season and I still have not taken a mule deer with my bow, but that’s okay. Each year I learn a little more and when I remember how much I learned my first year, it is amazing that my husband and I didn’t quit hunting altogether!
The first indicator that we had that things were going to be rough was when my husband called his good friend to remind him that we would be coming up to use his cabin the following weekend. We were shocked to learn that the good friend had decided to rent his cabin to some high-paying out-of-state hunters instead. "Oops, just forgot to tell you." We were upset, but not to be deterred. There was just enough money in our account to purchase an inexpensive camper. We had planned on buying one the next spring anyway so by Thursday night we had a camper on the truck and thought we were ready to go.
The first night we discovered that the heater did not work. The second night after a long, cold, rainy day of hunting my husband thought that he smelled propane when we returned to the camper. While I went inside to fix dinner my husband decided to check out the pipes on the propane tank. I had just taken my wet socks and boots off when suddenly I heard him yelling for me to bring him some water. Usually I am fairly decent when it comes to answering his requests, but I was cold and grumpy so I wasn’t in any big hurry to get him a drink of water. Seconds later when he angrily demanded water, my temper boiled over. I shoved my feet into my wet boots and grabbed a half-empty bottle of Gatorade off the table, then turned around to go out of the camper backwards so that I could negotiate the slick steps. No sooner did I set foot on the top step when it suddenly slid out from underneath me. Next thing I knew I was running on air while my face slides down the inside of the camper door. Just to add icing on the cake, somehow I landed with my ribs right on top of the steps. When I picked myself up, I was really angry! "He’s going to get his water now, by golly!" As I rounded the corner he ran over, jerked the Gatorade out of my hand and promptly douses the flames right on top of the propane tanks. I forget about my bleeding face, bruised ribs, and bare feet. Those things don’t matter as much as the knowledge that one or both of us could have been badly injured. Later on, we found my boots. One boot was three feet under the camper and the other was about twenty feet behind the camper in the trees.
The next few days were miserable. The propane tanks did not appear to leak as long as they were turned off, but that also meant no stove, no refrigerator, and of course, no heat. Although it didn’t rain anymore, everything in the woods was already soaked. We dried our clothes as best we could and just kept going out there every morning hoping that we’d shoot something. We found elk scat so fresh that it was still warm, but had no clue how to capitalize on it. The deer practically thumbed their noses at us by staying just out of bow range. A bear even dumped in the exact same spot that we had been sitting in the previous evening.
The final straw came when we were sitting in terror at the top of the mountain one afternoon as lightening struck all around us. When the hail started pouring down we decided to take our chances and make a run for it. I don’t think that my husband and I said a word to each other while packing up the camper and heading into the nearest town. The lady at the front desk of the Holiday Inn looked at us rather strangely in our sopping wet army surplus camouflage, but she was smart enough not to ask any questions.
Despite everything that happened that first year there was never any question about whether we would continue hunting. I have always had the desire to hunt, but once I actually experienced it, that desire turned into a need to hunt. Fortunately, my husband shares this same desire with me and I hope that one day our daughter will too.
