May/June 2011 EBJ (Issue 65) - This isn’t going to be a typical beginning for a hunting story. Sitting down to write this I had a lot of options on how to begin - for example, right before I released my arrow I had a 343 bull standing at seven yards. I had worked tirelessly all year to be ready for elk season by competing in mountain bike races, shooting my bow, scouting new country, and investing in camera gear so we could film our backcountry hunts. None of those seemed appropriate. What truly shaped not only my elk season, but also the rest of my life, happened late in July. It’s an experience more compelling, more lifechanging than the hunt of a lifetime.
As I held my fiancée in my arm, tears were streaming down her face. I wasn’t sure what had happened in the phone call with her mother, but I could feel the immense pain she was suffering from.