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.
After a week at work, I was more than ready to get back out there and try again with these javelina. In that week, I got a brand new QAD drop away rest put on my bow and spent a good amount of time at the range making sure everything was “dialed in” for my hunt. This time I would be joined by my younger brother Jake. Jake loves hunting just as much as I do and I cherish the time that we get to spend together out in the mountains. Ol’ Dad got us hooked on the outdoors at a very young age. Even though he had a deer tag in his pocket, he was mainly just coming along to hangout and help his big brother get a javelina. Gotta love that.
It was last January, while out hunting coues deer with a buddy, when I made the decision to chase javelina with my bow the following January. My friend was nice enough to offer up some help and show me the country he was so familiar with to try and get me a javelina. I had always heard that they were the perfect introductory animal to archery hunt, due to how relatively easy it was to get in close to them. Having not harvested anything with my bow yet, I was eager for the following year, jumped at the opportunity, and applied for the archery javelina tag when the time came. Later that year I found out that I was successful in the draw and that I would indeed be chasing these “stink pigs” down in southern Arizona. The hunt couldn’t have came quick enough.
My 2014 early archery deer/bear hunt started back in March. This is when I went out to place a trail camera in a very promising spot that I had found the previous season in hopes of seeing what was moving through the area. The spot did not disappoint, as I was greeted with thousands of pictures of deer, elk, and bear over the next few months. My scouting trips would happen every 3 weeks or so and consisted of checking my camera, lots of hiking, shed hunting, and glassing. The more and more pictures I got of these deer, the more excited I got for the opener on August 22nd.
Almost one year ago I had an experience like no other. It was something that to this day, I question if it even happened. Was it a dream? I can assure you it wasn’t. Will I ever see something like this again? The answer to that would be, “doubtful.” In a few days, I will be heading out to the same area that this story takes place in search of black bear and the ever so elusive coues deer with my bow. It is the coming events that struck my memory and brought me back to this special day that you are about to read about.
I think that when most hunters hear the term, “dialed in,” they immediately jump to the thought of getting your weapon sighted in for the upcoming season, and rightfully so. You have all heard someone say, “I got my bow dialed in,” or “I have to get my rifle dialed in.” It is a very common saying in this regard. While I will probably talk a bit about this, that is not what this blog is going to strictly be about. Will there be gear reviews? Probably. Tips that I have learned? You bet. Just general hunting talk? Absolutely. More importantly, it is going to document my personal journey as a hunter and my quest to get dialed in with myself and with nature. I hope you enjoy!
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