Well, I drew my cow-elk tag this year, with the contingency that it would be a "family affair". For any of you who don't know, Dic is an avid hunter--and the boys love it too. Me...well...when we started having babies I opted to stay home. I hate the cold (funny, living in SD), and to tell you the truth I've never been excited about walking for mile upon mile, without talking or making a sound. I did, although, shoot an antelope, (prior to children), and even cleaned it myself. Before that I merely shot the legs off a pheasant, hit a turkey (which rolled down a big hill), and shot a cow elk that ran onto private ground. Not much luck in this area of my life. So much for bonding time with my husband!
Last night we went out to scout for some "big boys " (and girls). The kids did really well, other than the slamming car doors and occasional pine cone- squashing. :0) We got a late start and walked into the night without flashlights (secretly hoping the mountain lions had already eaten) to hear the elk buggle. Dic is really good at calling them in--and he got a bull to talk back and forth with him. Talk about a cool experience!! We came really close, but were already out past shooting hours, so we raced back to the car, (with scared little boys in hand), just before complete darkness set in. We dropped Zach off at Grandma Gail's since he wasn't really in the groove of waking up early to possibly walk for infinity for nothing.
Then we got up in the wee hours this morning to set out again--with a good hour drive. It's important to get to "the spot" before the elk bed down for the day. The bulls were buggling like crazy so it wasn't difficult to find them, and within minutes we were back to our area we found last night and spotted some cows (girl elk). Mind you, Dic has been on me for a month about going out to practice shooting. My response..... "I'm a good shot!" And here's the result.........
Okay, and please don't think that I don't have a certain amount of guilt pent up about shooting an animal. I have to keep telling myself that it will feed our family through the winter and the meat is sooo much better than anything you could buy (we've lived on wild game since I met Dic). She didn't have any calves like the majority of the cows we saw, which gave me a sense of relief. And the amount of respect I give to her for providing for us is huge (no, mom, we didn't drink her blood like the Indians use to).
I possibly broke my nose in the process. See the bump? I know, scary picture--but see the bump? And the cut on the other side? Not just once, but two times the scope slammed into my nose when the gun kicked back. You know how when somebody punches you in the face and your ears are ringing from intense sound, and... well.... you think you're probably dead? And then someone is giving you instruction to do the same pain-staking thing again... and it takes all you can to not turn around and say some choice words? Well, this was me. But I did it again. Hence the picture. Two shots in the perfect spot just as I was ordered (right behind the shoulder and half-way between the back and belly). All I can say is...... I'm good.
I told my hubby I could have done it all alone. Wink wink. But thanks for holding the tripod, man.