five_point_buck
Very Active Member
- Messages
- 1,021
Hello boys and girls,
After a 2 month hibernation, cleansing myself of the season past, I amble out of a monster muley hangover feeling refreshed and invigorated. The months ahead are critical to those whose dream of massive racks atop heads supported by thick necks. As preparations are made, maps are reviewed, tags are applied for and fingers are crossed, our quarry finish their fight with mother nature. Its been a good winter so far and hopefully some of the 2-3 year old bucks I passed on last year have won the war of attrition once again. My prayers for a wet spring and a resurgence of quality browse consume my thoughts. While I type away in my 70 degree office, somewhere on a sage flat is a buck without his crown. While I fight through the recession and battle to support my family (and my muley addiction), my buck fights to survive another cold day. Warding off the ever exploding population of predators. The odds aren't great for him. CWD, starvation, poachers, coyotes, lions, biting cold, are an everyday challenge for my foe. I can draw many a parrallel in our struggles. As the spring wears on, our lives will change. He will begin to grow the magical bone and nuture his blocky frame with quality browse, all the while, tuning his senses and learning how to disappear and avoid me. At the same time, my lust for his challenge will grow with each passing month. Plans will be made, money will be saved, range time will be logged, and conditioning will be forced.
Somewhere on a sage flat in November we'll share the same frosty morning air, burning our nostrils - peaking our senses. The roles of predator and prey will play again, a script as old as the dirt we share. We'll except the challenge and make our choices.... life choices. The winner of our dual will experience new life through our opponents defeat, for his victory will earn him another day living in the freedom of his world. My victory will quench my hunger for his flesh, the burning desire to grab hold of his mighty rack. I'll soak up all he is, for what I want to be. Victory will tame my competitive drive. I'll stare long into the eye of self impossed adversity, challenging myself to be more. The I will return to my world, revitalized with his spirit. Set for another long slumber through the winter, filled with dreams and confidence for another adventure. Dreaming of a future November morning, eating the frosty air.
Take er easy
five_point_buck *
After a 2 month hibernation, cleansing myself of the season past, I amble out of a monster muley hangover feeling refreshed and invigorated. The months ahead are critical to those whose dream of massive racks atop heads supported by thick necks. As preparations are made, maps are reviewed, tags are applied for and fingers are crossed, our quarry finish their fight with mother nature. Its been a good winter so far and hopefully some of the 2-3 year old bucks I passed on last year have won the war of attrition once again. My prayers for a wet spring and a resurgence of quality browse consume my thoughts. While I type away in my 70 degree office, somewhere on a sage flat is a buck without his crown. While I fight through the recession and battle to support my family (and my muley addiction), my buck fights to survive another cold day. Warding off the ever exploding population of predators. The odds aren't great for him. CWD, starvation, poachers, coyotes, lions, biting cold, are an everyday challenge for my foe. I can draw many a parrallel in our struggles. As the spring wears on, our lives will change. He will begin to grow the magical bone and nuture his blocky frame with quality browse, all the while, tuning his senses and learning how to disappear and avoid me. At the same time, my lust for his challenge will grow with each passing month. Plans will be made, money will be saved, range time will be logged, and conditioning will be forced.
Somewhere on a sage flat in November we'll share the same frosty morning air, burning our nostrils - peaking our senses. The roles of predator and prey will play again, a script as old as the dirt we share. We'll except the challenge and make our choices.... life choices. The winner of our dual will experience new life through our opponents defeat, for his victory will earn him another day living in the freedom of his world. My victory will quench my hunger for his flesh, the burning desire to grab hold of his mighty rack. I'll soak up all he is, for what I want to be. Victory will tame my competitive drive. I'll stare long into the eye of self impossed adversity, challenging myself to be more. The I will return to my world, revitalized with his spirit. Set for another long slumber through the winter, filled with dreams and confidence for another adventure. Dreaming of a future November morning, eating the frosty air.
Take er easy
five_point_buck *
