To Dream Again

caelkhnter

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It had been 7 years since he had been able to chase the elusive bull elk in his former home state with his bow. For 7 years he had been putting in for his favorite unit in Arizona. For 7 years he had been spring and early summer scouting this unit in the hopes that he would get drawn again. He knew the unit better now than he ever had. However every year it was the same sorry to inform you of your unsuccessful draw result letter he received in the mail, consistent with the info he had received off the internet days before. He was never certain until he received the letter in the mail. Computers were nice but not to be fully trusted with such important business.

Even though he had not been able to draw a tag he continued to hunt. Loaded with his zoom lens 35mm camera he had spent many days in the woods photographing a number of trophy bull elk in the years he had not been drawn. He continued to roam the forest in early October amidst the yearly serenade of the rutting bulls. Nothing got his juices flowing like the bugle of the bulls. His scouting efforts had resulted in him locating a number of wallows off the beaten path far away from any well-marked trails. Each year that he was able to take a good close photo of a 350+ bull, his confidence grew that should, no when, he finally got drawn he would pick a spot and make the shot to get the dream bull he had missed the last time he had been fortunate enough to draw the highly sought after tag.

In recent years he best friend had finally convinced him to purchase a new bow and to switch to shooting with sites. He was glad he did. His shooting accuracy and consistency had markedly improved, as had his confidence. The last 3 deer seasons had proved the confidence was well deserved. Although he enjoyed mule deer hunting, his true passion was archery hunting elk.

Over the years he had honed his skills. He had also acquired other equipment to improve his chances. Good optics, Swavroski, a good gps and much needed range finder. Because he shot more consistently, practice was more enjoyable, frequent and fun. He would be ready this time. Leave nothing to chance like the last time.

The last time. He thought he was ready. He certainly exercised patience and discipline. He made up his mind early in the season not to settle for an average, or even nice bull. No he intended to hold out for a true trophy class bull. After all it was not easy to get this tag and he was not going to waste it on a less than trophy bull. So it was the last night of the hunt when the majestic bull came past the large round cedar at 35 yards. It was the big 7x7 he had seen the second day of the season. He had seen it one other time, the 8th day at darkthirty. His hunting buddy was with him and they figured it was at least a 380 bull. Although he used to hunt with several friends in camp, over the years his hunting practice had changed and was now limited to his best friend. It seemed that of all his friends this buddy was the only one who shared his desire, discipline and patience to hunt for true trophies.

The bull did not see or sense his presence. He had all the time necessary to make the shot. He had imagined this situation many times. To his surprise he was able to keep complete control of his emotions. He carefully calculated the distance, drew and shot. His arrow came off the rest fine but about 10 yards short of the bull it veered up and over the back of the bull. He had heard people talk about how important it was to make sure the broadheads matched the arrows and flew well out of his bow, but he simply did not believe it could make that much of a difference. He was wrong, very wrong. He had not practice much with broadheads before the season. Well a tough lesson learned the hard way. A mistake never to be made again.

Each spring he filled out the Arizona Game and Fish application with only one choice selected, his favorite unit. If he could not get drawn for that unit he would rather pass. His job and career had taken him away from Arizona and he simply did not have the time and opportunity to put the effort in to scout any other area. Even if he had the time this was his unit. He grew up in Arizona and this unit was where he learned to hunt elk. It was where he and his high school friends had matured together. Looking back he still can not believe that in high school he was guaranteed to get to hunt elk if he went with a bow. It was here that he had formed his most fond memories of hunting and companionship. He simply had no interest in learning or hunting elk in another unit.

Each spring he sent his money to the Game and Fish. As he waited for the results he would dream. Dream of getting drawn. Dream of being able to chase the big bulls again. The anticipation the dreams were all part of the hunting experience to him. Many of his hunting buddies would complain about the delay in getting the draw results. He did not. He got much satisfaction from the dreams and anticipation that preceded the results. Besides exercising patience was all part of good hunting discipline. Yes he was disappointed when he was unsuccessful, but he also understood the need for the limited draw system and knew when he finally did get drawn his joy and excitement would be that much greater. So once again he sent in his money and waited and dreamed?
 

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