I was recently asked to write the following article for the CHRISTIAN SPORTSMEN FELLOWSHIP magazine. It wraps up an important lesson in life which I was recently reminded of. Hope you enjoy it…

“Real men hunt with bows!” Some of my hunting buddies had ridden me with the fact that I had never hunted with one before. Now I had taken down quail, pheasant, chucker, turkey, deer and even elk with a gun. But a bow…not yet.

Well, this August I took the plunge. I picked up a good bow, carbon arrows, 100 grain practice field tips and broad tips for the hunt. With target in hand, I headed for some secluded land and began to hone my skills. And for good reason. I was headed for Colorado for elk! After all, why start small?!

Arriving at the north Colorado ranch I quickly changed and headed to the field. My friend and guide, B. J., was an experienced hunter…far beyond his 28 years. “Remember, Bob, anything you get with a bow is a trophy,” B. J. counseled. “This is your first hunt, so if you get a shot at anything, I would take it.” I heard his counsel…it went in one ear and out the other. I was there to bring home a 6X6, first hunt or not.

The morning was crisp, the stars bright, and the anticipation high. The Aspen trees were beginning to morph from their canopies of green to brilliant coats of shimmering gold. And the bulls were bugling. Look out world (and bulls)…here I come!

The next morning was dreadfully quiet. What happened? Where did the bugling bulls go? Maybe there heard “trouble” was in town. Not to be deterred, I wasn’t even considering a midday break. With only 4 days to hunt, I was making every minute count.

And it paid off. At 3:30 on the second day, as I sat in a ground blind, the earth trembled with a bugle only 75 yards behind me. I almost came out of my skin! Peering through the brush I saw the mass of the powerful bull stomping and pacing …60 yards away. Hunching down, quiet as a mouse, I waited for the moment when he would give me a shot. Time seemed to stand still. My heart was exploding in my chest. Then he whirled and stood broadside, a perfect target…still 60 yards away. No shot. Unperturbed he snorted, looked my general direction, and strolled off over the ridge. And my hopes went with him.

The following morning saw us up before dawn and positioned in timber adjacent to a large bed of willows, where we suspected some elk had been bedded over night. Sounding a bugle call, we received 3 answers in return. Listening closely we picked out the one which sounded like it was headed toward the same area I had seen the bull in the afternoon before. Hurrying through the timber we made our way parallel to the willows and into the blind. The more we called, the closer he came. My heart was playing calypso music. I KNEW he would steer our way…I’d draw my bow…he’d step out…and down he’d go.

As the bull nudged the cows with him into the sparse timber around me at 40 yards, B. J. whispered, “You’ve got to decide…cow or bull.”
“I’ll try for the bull,” was my confident reply. By now, at least 5 cows had moved their way across our visual path, coming in on the one side of the blind with the least cover! We could hardly breathe. And then I saw the dark brown mass and antlers of the bull appear on the edge of the timber. Drawing back, I labored to not make a sound. With the bow drawn and sighted in, I waited for the fatal step. And that’s when the cows spooked. We’d been busted…and my heart was shattered.

Defeated and disgusted, I released my draw and slumped to the ground muttering “What did I do wrong? What stupid mistake did I make? What does it take to succeed at a bow hunt?!?!”

That’s when B. J. stopped me in my tracks. “Bob, we worked 2 ½ hours this morning to pull those elk in. The weather was great. They responded like a storybook. We got to see the whole small herd up close and personal. You had a clear shot at the lead cow and could have had her easy. And many a man and woman hunt elk for years and never experience what you have this morning. And remember, this is your first hunt.”
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“Bob,” B. J. continued, “you need to remember that there is more to the hunt than getting a bull. Everything leading up to that moment is 80-85% of the hunt, and you seemed to have missed it all, being so focused on just bringing something down. If you’re going to be like that, maybe you ought not to hunt. You’ll miss too much, and savor too little.” With that, my 28 year old friend voiced the wisdom of a 70 year old veteran. Wisdom I needed to hear.

And not just for the hunt. For life in general. Looking back, I fear I’ve too often focused on the ultimate accomplishment desired…and missed significant portions of the journey getting there. It can happen at home, at work, on trips, with relationships…and on a hunt. How about you? Are you as good at listening to wisdom—even from unexpected sources–as you are at listening for animals?

Real men (and women) listen…even when it’s uncomfortable!

This entry was posted on Monday, December 8th, 2008 at 9:18 am and is filed under Bob Reccord. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.