The sun had settled behind the mountains as the last minutes of light faded away. I stood up, threw on my pack, grabbed my rifle, and started the hour hike back to my truck in silence. As I weaved through fallen logs and still standing fire kill I reflected on the past four days. They went fast, but every sunrise brought a new sense of optimism. I had confidence I’d harvest an elk…turns out I wouldn’t. I failed.
My Chevy Silverado hummed along I-80 eastbound on the return trip home. It is a familiar trail. Less than three months earlier I was on the same stretch of interstate with a truck bed full of moose meat and an ego bigger than the antlers I’d left with the taxidermist. I had harvested a moose in Idaho on opening day with the help of my buddies Cody and Josh. Was it luck? Was it skill? Was it the Onemore Factor? Truthfully, it didn’t matter. I was successful and still had a full fall of hunts ahead of me.
September turned into October - October turned into November - And I found myself spending a lot of time in a tree. With other responsibilities competing for time (family, work, training for ultramarathons) I had a check the box mentality. Harvest a whitetail buck with my bow and move on with life. On November 2nd I had my chance. A nice 5x5 walked past my stand at 30 yards. I drew. Released an arrow and connected. The shot felt a little forward, but I thought it was good. It wasn’t. The blood trail eventually vanished, and I couldn’t find the deer. I failed.
A few years ago, I set a goal “Become a better outdoorsman.” It is one I will never achieve, and that is by design. I know no matter how much success I experience, I will always have room to grow as an individual and hunter. In a 23-day span in November I was able to hunt 13 days. If you count success as punching a tag, I failed most of those days. Yet, this season I put more work into becoming a better outdoorsman than I have in any recent years…and the reason for that is failure.
Failure keeps you in the woods longer. Failure requires you to take a self-assessment. Failure requires you to focus on new skills. Failure requires you to rethink what you are trying to accomplish. Failure is a prerequisite to learning.
By failing in the whitetail woods, I spent more days with a bow in my hand. I rethought stand locations. I practiced shooting more. I modified my shot sequence. I had to figure out cold weather gear. I learned.
By failing in the elk mountains, I scouted a new area. I spent hours behind the optics improving my glassing skills. I modified what I need in my pack and why. I built confidence hunting alone in remote areas, even with inclement weather. I learned.
As I look back at the last three months I didn’t get all the results I wanted…but maybe they were the results I needed.
Until next time…you’re going to have to earn it.