Yesterday evening I drove to a small town in rural Indiana to say goodbye to a friend.
We had met through work and had a simple bond through hunting, fishing, and the outdoors. Over the years we had adventures, both successful and otherwise. Our last hunt was November 2018 in Montana for elk and deer. On that hunt we found success. We laughed. A lot. Occasionally, we shook our heads in frustration. We marveled at the beauty of a moose cow and calf backed by fresh fallen snow and were mesmerized by a nanny mountain goat and her two kids who danced and pranced across a shear cliff that they know as their playground.. We sat on deadfall in the falling snow and silently ate rock hard frozen snickers bars and trail mix. We saw sunrises and sunsets from angles perhaps only a handful of humans have ever seen. We saw deer and elk. We killed elk. And we sat by a pine wood fire to thaw our souls at the end of a long day. The light shimmering on antler tips, rifle barrels and in our eyes marking the end of a too short week together.
But this loss is not what this post is about. I offer the above as a spark for your inner fire. These are memories that I will forever be grateful for. Memories that drive me forward to make new ones friends and family. To get out there and live. Share and teach. Learn and be humbled.
To those who say maybe next year. Time is not your friend. My friend had lots of time left, and then he didn't. A life distilled into photos, artifacts and remembrances for those left behind. Plans made forever altered. Future hunts where his laugh will not echo through the woods.
So, please go. Do it next year. At the very least, make a firm plan for the future. There are no do overs, no second chances. It doesn't have to be a big adventure. Start small. But start. Involve family, take friends. Take the kids even at the earliest age.
Don't search for perfection. Don't put expectations on it. Don't think you need some special whizzbang gear or special knowledge. It's camping with a bow, rifle or fishing pole. People have been doing it for centuries and the only thing stopping you is you.
Sitting and waiting for the day to be done
Waiting for an end that surely will come
Can you tell us where you have been and how you have lived
Who did you help and what did you give
Can you share great stories, knowledge, and truth
Or do you sit all alone having squandered your youth
Jeremy
Rest in peace my friend.
We had met through work and had a simple bond through hunting, fishing, and the outdoors. Over the years we had adventures, both successful and otherwise. Our last hunt was November 2018 in Montana for elk and deer. On that hunt we found success. We laughed. A lot. Occasionally, we shook our heads in frustration. We marveled at the beauty of a moose cow and calf backed by fresh fallen snow and were mesmerized by a nanny mountain goat and her two kids who danced and pranced across a shear cliff that they know as their playground.. We sat on deadfall in the falling snow and silently ate rock hard frozen snickers bars and trail mix. We saw sunrises and sunsets from angles perhaps only a handful of humans have ever seen. We saw deer and elk. We killed elk. And we sat by a pine wood fire to thaw our souls at the end of a long day. The light shimmering on antler tips, rifle barrels and in our eyes marking the end of a too short week together.
But this loss is not what this post is about. I offer the above as a spark for your inner fire. These are memories that I will forever be grateful for. Memories that drive me forward to make new ones friends and family. To get out there and live. Share and teach. Learn and be humbled.
To those who say maybe next year. Time is not your friend. My friend had lots of time left, and then he didn't. A life distilled into photos, artifacts and remembrances for those left behind. Plans made forever altered. Future hunts where his laugh will not echo through the woods.
So, please go. Do it next year. At the very least, make a firm plan for the future. There are no do overs, no second chances. It doesn't have to be a big adventure. Start small. But start. Involve family, take friends. Take the kids even at the earliest age.
Don't search for perfection. Don't put expectations on it. Don't think you need some special whizzbang gear or special knowledge. It's camping with a bow, rifle or fishing pole. People have been doing it for centuries and the only thing stopping you is you.
Sitting and waiting for the day to be done
Waiting for an end that surely will come
Can you tell us where you have been and how you have lived
Who did you help and what did you give
Can you share great stories, knowledge, and truth
Or do you sit all alone having squandered your youth
Jeremy
Rest in peace my friend.
