Reply to someone who didn't respect my first elk

Note some sarcasm in the opening line:

"It's so nice when people appreciate the time, effort, and skill it takes to wander into a critter as wonderful as an elk...and then be ABLE to kill it. To have the mental fortitude, to look down their barrel at something as majestic as this, and end it's life. I know a guy that couldn't pull the trigger on an elk, because once he saw them he said, "They're so BIG!" He stood there and watched them leave....and was pleased with this result.

Even if after seven years of bow and rifle hunting. After many practice sessions with said bow...and rifle. After being in range of elk that weren't legal (either because it was the ONE night prior to season-opening, or...on a different occassion...because I didn't know if the antlers were large enough.) After encountering elk out of bow range and watching their habits. After NOT shooting a legal cow elk I had snuck up on and eventually got to within FOUR YARDS of because she had a yearling with her.

After familiarizing myself with the land. Planning a trip. Scouting. Learning to bugle, and calling in other hunters because as they put it after I walked into them, "There is a HERD of elk down there!" (No, just me coming up...they looked very disappointed.) Hiking up and down the vertical minefields of slippery logs, deep dark caverns, through brush fields, insane elevation gains and losses, playing the wind, playing the terrain, learning about the habits of elk, finding sign, tracking, learning, and praying.

Paying my dues if you will.

Perhaps it is because it is a FIRST elk. Perhaps it is because my ONLY elk, that I might, JUST MIGHT, feel a certain amount of pride and accomplishment in fulfilling one of my lifelong dreams; that made any sort of teasing unbearable.

I am very happy for [name deleted]...coworker's...brother. But, as Butch said, "If you can kill elk in the Panhandle, you can kill elk anywhere." So perhaps he'll come up? Or better yet, perhaps YOU want to hunt elk? I'll drop you off someday and let you figure it out.

It meant so much to me, [name deleted], that after I confirmed this bull was dead, my knees left me and I hit the ground. I prayed and prayed and nearly cried. I thanked who I needed to thank, and I tried my best to account for the elk itself. I almost didn't want to touch it because I respected everything about it so much. I took many many many photos. I was very proud and thankful.

I read this the other day:

"The hunt is over and I'm watching Gregg's reaction as he looks upon the animal he has just taken. Respect. Reverence. Awe. Gratitude. These are the measure of a man."
Jim Shockey

Yes.

Tom"

I had to post this because it says so much. It sums up the last couple of years I have kept this blog...and tries to encapsulate SOME of what I have felt and done. SOME. I still wander outside on my deck and look at the one thing I have right now of this elk.

I still almost can't touch those antlers.

I can see everything that led up to this like it was yesterday.

As it is, this person who laughed and teased me at the size of the elk that came to me was comparing it to an elk killed in Nevada. She is entirely harmless and feels terribly about saying what she said when I took back the photo I gave her. I stand strong, however, and still feel passionately about my stance. Later, I will probably relent and come to terms with it all, but now? Not now.

I am too proud.



I had to FORCE myself to smile.

I still pray for him