I have been thinking of something this evening. It is an interesting thought that I have carried with me for years. It is something you could call "mental photos."
I think we use our cameras and phone cams too much. All we see are things that we put in frames, digital storage, on the camera, on email, hard copy, blah blah blah. And I think when we rely on this technology, we lose the ability to be in a moment and truly SEE it. We look. We frame. We think of light. We think of position. But we don't see the detail.
I think I read this once...and it was concerning an art teacher and a student. The instructor said, "Look at this (whatever 'this' is) and look at all the detail." So the student looked and looked. Later, the instructor took the student somewhere else and said, "paint what you saw."
What a lesson! What an incredible way to teach someone to take in a moment and keep it with them forever! I have always wanted to go on a vacation, a BIG vacation, minus the camera...and rely on my mind alone...just so I'm focused on what I am experiencing. However, I have not done this, because I like to share things with others...and there is really no better way to portray a situation without a photo...a visual aid if you will. I still try to do that, but will take a photo anyways.
And I shall take this a step further. When you are taking a mental photo, it plays with ALL your senses. What it felt, smelled, and (perhaps) tasted like. Your emotions at the time. Everything that goes into a moment that SHOULD be remembered.
So I started thinking about my past hunts. I can recall EVERY animal I have taken. I can see, feel, smell, and nearly understand my emotions at the time. I have such a vivid memory of such experiences that it made me wonder. What is it about hunting that does that to you? Is it the seriousness of the situation? I think it probably is. The more serious and "
impactive" on your personal self, the more you will remember it. This applies to other things as well.
Do you remember your first love and the look in his/her eyes when all it said was love? Can you remember a near-death experience? Can you remember all the details because it all happened in slow motion? Did you stop time? And in that split second, did you take note of everything?
My first deer was interesting, I was hiking through a 20-foot spacing stand of Douglas-fir and stopped and sat still for awhile. This buck walked into ME and I shot him. I felt the same way I did with my first elk...respect, awe, reverence. And I sat there next to him for quite awhile. He smelled "rutty" and it was an unpleasant yet perfect odor.
My second deer was larger and dropped after a shot to the spine. I had to walk down to him and shoot him again in the neck. I sat next to this beautiful animal and waited next to him while he died. I felt terrible and still remember those eyes...but I couldn't NOT look at his eyes. It wasn't....nah, that thought is mine.
The third was a deer I never found. I shot him poorly and tracked him for six hours. I tracked him so long I knew the look of HIS hooves in the snow...and every 20 yards or so I could find a single drop of blood. It started raining and I lost the trail. I went up there for three days and could never find a sign of that deer. I'm positive he is fine...but have been a wreck ever since for making a less-than-perfect shot.
The next deer was a young one. I remember standing in front of him at about 30 yards...him facing me. I stood there for awhile....seconds. I put the rifle to my shoulder...expecting him to jump...more seconds. He didn't move, so I shot. I can still see the way he looked at me...curious and too young to know better.
The next deer that year was in Montana and was chasing a doe. I tracked him for hours in the shallow snow and finally found him chasing a doe. It was about a 20 yard shot, running, and I took it. Like shooting trap. It was getting dark and I finally found him kinda like I found the elk....I heard his last breath and walked up to him. I can still feel the relief when I heard that mournful and terrible noise...again, it was at the same time, perfect. I remember the gratitude I had for my Dad coming to
Lolo Hot Springs in the dark to help me load this deer in his truck and then having what may have been my first congratulatory beer with him.
Following that was a buck that walked into me at about 25 yards on a steep hill near Hamilton. I kept letting him come closer and closer, finally deciding that I should shoot. I hit him solid, but it clipped his far "elbow" as the bullet exited and he pushed himself down the slope with his hind legs...dead, but still fleeing...on his chest. I walked behind him for about 30 yards and again, watched him die. I KNEW he was dead, but have never been pleased with watching him leave. I sat there by him for awhile. I can see the opposite hill, feel the temperature, and there were no other thoughts than of that moment. He was covered in ticks.
I shot a doe with a handgun on the
river bottom that same year (extra hunt). A herd moved in and I found one in the open, steadied the iron sights on her (at 60 yards) and fired. She ran one way, then circled back the way they had come. She ran into a fence post, obviously dead running. (I'm continually amazed by animals...including people...and the
ability to function despite being mortally wounded.) I was so thankful for that fence post. My first, and only so far, handgun kill. Again, I
kneeled next to her for awhile. The leaves falling from the trees, the gorgeous foggy morning, the silence...the geese breaking the lull I was in with their honking.
Hmm.
There was another deer that I didn't hit well. I was in a
treestand with the handgun again and shot at a doe at 30 yards. I watched her run and run and run. Getting dark, I found where I had hit her and saw white hair and SOME blood. But I gridded and gridded throughout the night and found nothing. I had shot low and grazed the bottom of her chest. I felt fine about that one, because I knew the shot was not fatal. Yet, I haven't handgun hunted since. I remember THAT cold, dark walk out. Kicking myself. Feeling like much less than a mouse.
Then my final deer was a couple of years ago. The snow was crunchy and I was making entirely too much noise, but due to the rut and the nature of critters at that point, I heard something walking into my position. I moved and set up so I could have a better view of the little valley I was in. Sure enough, another little buck stepped into the opening RIGHT WHERE I had been sitting earlier when I heard him walking. I can walk like a deer I guess. No one knows this, but I shot once and missed! He stood still and stared at me. I couldn't believe it so jacked another shell into the chamber and set my sights on him again. He was staring into my eyes. I centered on him and pulled the trigger again and found him 20 yards away. I can't see anything but the confused look on his face. I can't believe I pulled the trigger again. It seemed like it was wrong...but ethically it was fine.
And you know about the elk. You don't know about the musky smell. The feel of his wet hair. You can't see the fog, can't feel the way my knees gave out. Can't feel my relief and respect...the way your heart is a complete mess.
The common denominator here is the PERSON who is performing the act. Everyone reacts differently and has different emotions. But I think all sportsman come away from experiences like that with a heightened sense of life. Even when you DON'T put something down, the experience lives on in our memories.
I just wanted to share some of the successful memories I have. This by no means explains it all, because I have had many more satisfying experiences NOT killing something. Hunting is not only about killing. It is a way to connect to emotions and thoughts that you cannot find any other way.
I am positive of this.
