Even though I was set up to stay out for 3 days solo, I told my wife, the night before I left, that I would be home tomorrow night, and that I was gonna fill my tag in the morning. I’m not one to be cocky, but I was so determined to fill my tag that I was trying to convince myself that I KNEW that I was going to “get it done.” Up until this point, I had only been served “Failure” with a side of “Almost.” Failure and bow hunting go together like bows and arrows and I was very familiar with all of them. Another thing that comes with all of that head scratching though is education. One does not pick up a set of car keys and automatically know how to drive. The only word that comes to mind when I think of spot and stalk archery deer hunting is “Humbling.” You will be humbled whether you fill your tag or not. That is exactly what I felt when I was a mile from my truck on my first morning, spotted a lone buck, and then realized that I had forgotten my tag and licence in the truck.
If you’ve been following along with me for the past few years, then you know how much of a bear nut I am. Last year I wrote a story called Canyon Bruins, which took you along the epic journey that was my 2015 season. If you read that story then you know that is when I was able to harvest my first black bear. On that morning, we were able to see 9 bears in about an hour and a half, all within 300 yards of each other. Everything from the shot to the packout was nothing short of an adventure. It took me 3 years to find a good bear spot here in AZ, so you can imagine how excited I was to get back to that magical hell hole that these Canyon Bruins called home for the 2016 season.
I’ve decided to do something a bit different for this post then previous ones that went over my hunts. On this trip, I actually kept a journal while out in the field and I think it turned out pretty neat. I might end up doing this a lot more in the future, just because of the genuine point of view that it offers with the play by play perspective. This was not only my first out of state hunt, it was my first archery elk hunt, along with my first extended backpack hunt. My brother and I packed into the Colorado backcountry for a week in hopes of making some awesome memories and arrowing my first bull. We ended up doing both…..technically. Enjoy.
2015 was a pretty exciting year for me in the field filled with new experiences and opportunities. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago, when I stopped to think about it all. It was almost overwhelming reflecting back on everything, which is what I intend on doing here. Being relatively new to the hunting lifestyle(3 years), means a lot of things happened to me for the first time. The deeper and deeper that I dive into this, the more things that I want to experience someday and the things that I do get a chance to experience, seem to create new traditions that I can’t wait to take part in the following year. There were way to many firsts that happened during 2015 to list here, but I would like to take the time to reflect on the major ones.
Here in Arizona, all of us hunters look forward to the end of July/early August. Why? This is when we find out if we have drawn the deer tags that we are hoping for through Arizona’s lottery system. Myself and my family had not been drawn since 2013, so the anticipation of the results was just plain cage rattling. During the 2013 season, I had found an area that would soon become a second home for me. The amount of bucks that I saw left me awestruck. I can remember calling my dad every night telling him things like, “I saw 11 big bucks today,” or “I had shot opportunities at 7 bucks tonight.” Never in all of the years that we went deer hunting had we seen things like that or had those types of opportunities.
After the emotional roller coaster that the August bear season gave me, I honestly didn’t know if I was going to hunt bears again during the 2015 season. To lose an animal of that caliber, after all of the hard work that I have put in over the past 3 years, was a crushing experience. No matter how much we prepare, we cannot control the outcome of a situation. That was all too real for me. Countless talks were had with family and friends about my lost bear and how we did all that we could. It didn’t change the fact that I still felt awful. Bears are an animal that have truly become special to me and that I admire to their core. The way they move seamlessly through rugged terrain, their behavior, toughness, and intelligence are all intriguing to me.
In 2013 something happened to me that changed my life. The kind of thing that no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop thinking about. I went on my first bear hunt here in Arizona. Going into the hunt, I read everything that I could about bears in Arizona. Where they like to reside, what they like to eat, and their overall habits in the rugged environment that AZ has to offer. No matter how much I read though, I felt ill prepared for the journey ahead. It’s hard to picture something standing on a hillside when you have never really seen what you are looking for. By some stroke of luck though, it happened. I saw a bear on the evening of opening day. Because, of the bear being obscured by brush and other vegetation though, I wasn’t able to take a shot. From that point on I was caught hook, line, and sinker. I hunted bears for the rest of the season and never did get another look at one. That didn’t matter though. I would be back next year.
If it wasn’t for my dad getting me into the outdoors all of those years ago, who knows if it would have caught me like it did. Some people are just naturally drawn to hunting and fishing for one reason or the other, but it is my understanding that most of us were introduced by some type of mentor. Whether it was a father, other family member, or a best friend is irrelevant. What is relevant is that, whoever it was, took the time to light the way for us and pass on the tradition. They are the ones that showed us how to do things like bait a hook or recognize a deer track. I don’t know about you, but I sure as heck wasn’t born just knowing how to do these things.
Besides being born in Albuquerque, NM and living there for about a year, I spent the first 8 years of my life living in Queens, NY. Back then I couldn’t even tell you what a mountain looked like, let alone tell you what the biggest buck I had ever seen was. Even though we lived in the city, my dad made sure to include me in on his morning fishing trips over at a nearby bridge that overlooked the Atlantic Ocean. This is where my love for the outdoors started. I can remember helping my dad dig up blood worms on the beach that we would use for bait and climbing the nearby trees while my dad watched our fishing poles in hopes that the rod tips would be summoned toward the big blue. Before heading out on these fishing trips we would always stop at Dunkin Donuts. This was definitely one of my favorite parts of the day.
As I write this, January 2015 is coming to a close along with the AZ archery deer season. It has been a LONG season that started back in August for me here. August filled my mind with hopes and desires for bear and deer. The only thing August didn’t fill was my tags. That season ran into September. After that it was back to the bears in early October, followed by scouting in November for the archery deer hunt the coming December/January. January also held an archery javelina hunt, which is a tag that I was fortunate enough to fill. If I had to describe how my season went, it would be a long stretch of rugged, up and down mountains with some valleys scattered throughout. It’s a good thing that I enjoy rugged mountains.
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