I didn’t grow up hunting like many of my peers and neighbors here in western Wyoming. I didn’t learn at the feet of a parent or a mentor but rather alongside friends who have been selfless enough to indulge my questions and blunders.
I consider myself fortunate to have not tasted success in the field my very first season. Walking through the woods quietly and with intention, spending time in wide open spaces, and appreciating the natural resources that surround us is always worth waking early for, regardless of the outcome.
On Tuesday, a friend and I were able to get out for much of the day in search of mature mule deer. Though we came up short in our search, the day had new meaning for me. As a new father, with far less free time and sleep — things I took for granted last hunting season — the day re-affirmed for me just how lucky I am to live near open skies, steep mountains, clean water and people who appreciate those things as much as I do.
Whether my son will grow to enjoy hunting remains to be seen, but I hope he’ll appreciate where he lives and learn the virtues of a tired body and a fulfilled spirit after a long day exploring his backyard.

