stan_wa
Lil-Rokslider
Hey Rokslide community,
I want to share a story—a reflection on what has become the most successful season of my life. The inspiration for this post is rooted in the desire to encourage those who may have had a rough start in their hunting journey or find themselves in a dry slump.
Born and raised in Washington State, where success rates don't always compare to other western states, I started hunting at the age of 12. Fast forward to now, at 31, I've never missed a season. For the first few years, my dad and I hunted every season, but while he harvested a few bucks, I had yet to even have an opportunity.
At age 18, my first big game "success" came with a white-tailed doe tag, but it didn't excite me as it felt like a layup. Mule deer hunting each season (3pt +), I hadn't seen a legal buck on public land with a weapon in hand in my first 6 years. Rain or shine, sun up to sun down, I gave it my all, learning to love the chase despite the apparent "failure" in eating more tags than venison.
From ages 18 to 21, no legal animals were spotted.
At 22-23, a privilege came my way—a chance to join in on backcountry elk hunts in Idaho with my good friend and pastor. We were both successful two years in a row on smaller bulls. It was during these seasons that I realized the value of a good mentor, as my friend and pastor proved invaluable, teaching me more than I had learned hunting elk in 10 seasons on my own.
From ages 24 to 27, opportunities started presenting themselves in Washington. I missed a good Roosevelt due to snow in the scope and passed on a bear in the high country due to the challenge of packing it out with an out-of-shape partner. Age 28 saw me bagging my first Washington muley buck. During the season I was age 29, four of us got elk tags in Idaho and spent 10 days flown into the Frank Church Wilderness. On that trip, my Garmin watched logged 146 miles, and I saw 0 elk during our September hunt. Later that season, a friend of a friend who has 200+ days hunting elk in the Frank Church took pity on me and invited me to his best spot. After a 2-day pack-in, both my partners shot bulls about 4 hours into our first hunt. Because of the distance we hiked in and the limited time we had to hunt, I knew that by offering to spot for them as they stalked in, I was going to eat another tag. Still, I was thrilled to be part of the adventure. I was lucky to get one day to hunt solo on the way out and tagged out on a nice 3-4 buck.
At 30, my uncle convinced me to pick up a bow, resulting in a late-season Washington muley buck. Now, at 31, my best season yet includes being present when my buddy arrowed a cougar, tagging my third Washington muley buck on the high hunt, both my partner and me taking herd bulls out of Idaho, getting a black-tail doe with my bow on a second deer tag, and spotting the best mule deer of my life so my best friend could take a shot at his first muley. Sadly, that buck is still on the mountain, but we've got a good plan to find him next year.
I share this not to boast but to encourage. I have friends who hunted a few seasons, ate tags, got sad, and gave up. I hope you don't follow that path. It took me 200 days in the field before finding any real success, but now, after my best season and four years of punched tags, I've realized that success isn't just punching a tag—it's learning to love the pursuit.
What has been most helpful to me?
I want to share a story—a reflection on what has become the most successful season of my life. The inspiration for this post is rooted in the desire to encourage those who may have had a rough start in their hunting journey or find themselves in a dry slump.
Born and raised in Washington State, where success rates don't always compare to other western states, I started hunting at the age of 12. Fast forward to now, at 31, I've never missed a season. For the first few years, my dad and I hunted every season, but while he harvested a few bucks, I had yet to even have an opportunity.
At age 18, my first big game "success" came with a white-tailed doe tag, but it didn't excite me as it felt like a layup. Mule deer hunting each season (3pt +), I hadn't seen a legal buck on public land with a weapon in hand in my first 6 years. Rain or shine, sun up to sun down, I gave it my all, learning to love the chase despite the apparent "failure" in eating more tags than venison.
From ages 18 to 21, no legal animals were spotted.
At 22-23, a privilege came my way—a chance to join in on backcountry elk hunts in Idaho with my good friend and pastor. We were both successful two years in a row on smaller bulls. It was during these seasons that I realized the value of a good mentor, as my friend and pastor proved invaluable, teaching me more than I had learned hunting elk in 10 seasons on my own.
From ages 24 to 27, opportunities started presenting themselves in Washington. I missed a good Roosevelt due to snow in the scope and passed on a bear in the high country due to the challenge of packing it out with an out-of-shape partner. Age 28 saw me bagging my first Washington muley buck. During the season I was age 29, four of us got elk tags in Idaho and spent 10 days flown into the Frank Church Wilderness. On that trip, my Garmin watched logged 146 miles, and I saw 0 elk during our September hunt. Later that season, a friend of a friend who has 200+ days hunting elk in the Frank Church took pity on me and invited me to his best spot. After a 2-day pack-in, both my partners shot bulls about 4 hours into our first hunt. Because of the distance we hiked in and the limited time we had to hunt, I knew that by offering to spot for them as they stalked in, I was going to eat another tag. Still, I was thrilled to be part of the adventure. I was lucky to get one day to hunt solo on the way out and tagged out on a nice 3-4 buck.
At 30, my uncle convinced me to pick up a bow, resulting in a late-season Washington muley buck. Now, at 31, my best season yet includes being present when my buddy arrowed a cougar, tagging my third Washington muley buck on the high hunt, both my partner and me taking herd bulls out of Idaho, getting a black-tail doe with my bow on a second deer tag, and spotting the best mule deer of my life so my best friend could take a shot at his first muley. Sadly, that buck is still on the mountain, but we've got a good plan to find him next year.
I share this not to boast but to encourage. I have friends who hunted a few seasons, ate tags, got sad, and gave up. I hope you don't follow that path. It took me 200 days in the field before finding any real success, but now, after my best season and four years of punched tags, I've realized that success isn't just punching a tag—it's learning to love the pursuit.
What has been most helpful to me?
- Good mentors are invaluable. Thank you, Dad, Pastor Brad, Greg, and Uncle Corey. Your investment in me has been invaluable.
- Learn to read maps and e-scout.
- Podcasts and Rokslide are more fun than Netflix and football.
- Hunt as much as you can.
- Be willing to help friends and family, even if you leave a weapon in the truck. You'll learn lots along the way.
- Good glass is worth the money.
- Practice shooting in the ways you will in the field, and do it as much as you can.
- If your fitness makes you hunt an area the easy way instead of the right way, start training more.
Hunted that year and the next, then due to several reasons didn't have the chance to hunt again until I was 23.
