Lessons in the Wilderness
The wilderness can often times be our greatest teacher. Stepping out of your comfort zone and launching head first into a vast expanse of mixed hardwoods, loblolly pines, or cypress and swamp oaks in search of a game animal will often times yield more lessons than you can retain. Success out here, only comes through time, patience, and effort. For many new hunters, public land can be a daunting obstacle. The animals haven’t been patterned, they aren’t fed from a trough, and they know you’re trying to kill them.
The pursuit is only half of this equation. There is nothing better for me than being “lost.” Out here is where you FIND YOURSELF. It’s where metal is forged, where you are tested beyond your limits, where your success is dictated by your own perseverance. “Lost” is as close to heaven as I may ever get. Its where my greatest trophies are EARNED and its where this harvest earned its place in my Top 3.
Insertion
0400: I put in the river and began to paddle upstream. The quiet seclusion here developed an eerie essence as I paddled through the swamp over some of the darkest water imaginable…there was no bottom here. Tip that vessel and you may just sink for the rest of eternity. The stakes are a little bit higher out here.
There was roughly a mile or so to paddle before I needed to cut in and trek on foot. The kayak was loaded down with extra clothes, some food, a tree stand, and of course, my most trusted rifle. Finding an approach into the hardwoods where I wouldn’t sink to my chest in the mud would prove more difficult than I had thought. As the sun started to creep above the horizon, I ran my kayak aground and the woods began to awaken.
The Hunt
I stalked all morning and afternoon. Moving slowly and precisely I inched closer to my objective hour after hour. Around 1400 I reached my destination. About 4 miles from the closest road, as the crow flies, this spot was more than I could have dreamed. The perfect honey hole. A safe place, for whitetails AND me! I could hear the hounds howling on the other side of the swamp. I smiled knowing I had beaten them. They might even drown fighting the mud and the swamp in an attempt to reach this place. One thing is for certain….the deer were here.
Setting up between two active scrapes, I peered into the hardwoods and counted 3 rubs in close proximity where bucks had made their mark. I knew I had a chance! I sat against an oak and reflected on the morning. I was wet, cold, and exhausted. I took some time to thank God, I asked for more patience, and a little more energy. Before I knew it I heard crashing as a buck chased a doe through the swamp. I could barely make out their coats as they blitzed through the area denying me a shot opportunity. Only a few more minutes had passed when a mature doe decided joined me. I knew my time was running out and if I wanted to harvest one today, she was it. I squeezed the trigger and let my trusty Remington 700 sing. A well placed shot ensured a quick kill and a light track.
Extraction
Now I had to drag her. All 110 lbs of dead weight, back through the swamp, through vines and mud and brush, back to the kayak, and back to the truck. The most magnificent part of this trip was at about a half of a mile left. I had walked into this large open uncut field on the edge of the swamp. The sun was setting and I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the most intense feeling of gratitude and respect that I’ve ever felt. I was drained, exhausted, hurting, and when I looked out on the horizon I knew it was a gift.
I dropped to my knees next to my doe and thanked Him again. That little bit of energy that I asked for earlier finally came, and it was emotional, staggering, unyielding, indisputable. I was relentless, and by the grace of God, I was successful; now I was more alive than ever before. This was a culmination of endless hours of scouting, hunting, and getting busted by smart mature whitetails that were just better than me! Almost 2 months of hunting public land on the weekends, all for just a few seconds of adrenaline.
The most rewarding part of this trip wasn’t killing a deer. It wasn’t because this deer was a world record 12 point. It was that intense emotional connection that I had with the landscape, with God, and with myself. A reminder of how important our world is, how grand and rewarding this gift of life can be, and that nothing worth anything….comes free. Regardless of harvests, I’ve never left the woods empty handed…there was always something gained, something learned, or some part of ME strengthened.
