Perspective

[Jape]

With all the doom and gloom lately I thought it might be helpful to share an uplifting story about my grandpa’s last hunt. Writing helps me process and while I certainly don’t condone sticking our heads in the proverbial sand, I do think that with everything going on right now we could use a distraction, and perhaps a little perspective. Hope you enjoy it.

On my 14th birthday, I arrived home from school to find my grandparents sitting in our family room. It wasn’t unusual to see my grandparents since they lived next door on the family ranch, but it was unusual to see them at my home after school without my parents. In one of those seminal life events that shapes the rest of your life, they informed us that my parents had been in a terrible car accident and had been life flighted to the nearest trauma medical center. The couple in the other vehicle was not as lucky. Suddenly, that new hunting rifle I wanted wasn’t as important as I had thought that morning.



We all have those moments in life that pull us back and cause us to look at the big picture. What is unique about the COVID-19 pandemic and social justice movements is that we are all experiencing it at the same time. We are not immune in the hunting world. You have already seen the news articles about measures state wildlife agencies are taking. Alaska cancelled their spring bear seasons for nonresidents. Idaho suddenly suspended nonresident license sales. Washington cancelled their spring bear and turkey hunts. Montana did the same for nonresidents. Oregon is not allowing nonresident spring hunting. Wyoming has a non-resident quarantine in place and Utah is allowing hunters to turn back their spring bear and turkey permits. We are left wondering if all the exciting fall hunts we have planned will actually occur. While these actions and others seems to portray doom and gloom, there is hope and, perhaps, some lessons on perspective.

 

[Jape]

One of those lessons is to remember the good times. My earliest hunting memories began when too young to participate in the hunts myself. I would listen for hours to my dad and grandpa talk about past hunts. I couldn’t get enough and craved to join when I was old enough. Some of my favorites include the one when dad and grandpa were packing out an elk at 1 a.m. in Firehole and my dad’s horse kept him from stepping off a cliff. Or the one when grandpa shot a bull so wide he could nearly stand inside its antlers. He left those antlers on the mountain because that’s what you did in those days. Or the one when grandpa shot a 210” deer jumping over a gully. Shooting a 210” deer wasn’t the notable part, it was the fact he hit him while jumping over the gully. He kept those antlers, but only as a coat rack in the garage. When I tell those stories, or my own, to my children they are just as captivated. Why? Because stories connect us. It’s as if we were there with the storyteller experiencing the same sights, sounds, smells, and sensations. Their happiness is our happiness, their anguish our anguish, and their experience our experience.



The COVID-19 pandemic gave me some much needed time to reflect on these memories and my motives. Naturally, I looked to those who taught me the most, and those with whom I most enjoyed sharing the mountains. At the top of that list is my grandpa. I’ve never known a better hunter and he did it without Sitka, or FFP scopes, or trekking poles, or $500 boots. Something I admire but am not too keen to duplicate! He looked forward to the fall hunting season like nobody I had ever known. Many of our family hunting traditions trace back to him, such as V8 juice on EVERY hunting trip and celebrating success with an almond joy. One of my favorite memories of grandpa is his last hunt.

In the fall of his life, grandpa was understandably limited. A lifetime of hard labor on the ranch combined with the fact that he was 76 years old meant that grandpa just couldn’t do what he had always done. I never really realized it when I was younger, but eventually I started to recognize that grandpa couldn’t get on a horse by himself, he couldn’t raise his arms high enough to load the horses, he couldn’t dress out the game because he became too winded, and he no longer volunteered to walk the ridges to find game. All his hunts were in the rearview mirror with only one in the windshield.

 

[Jape]

Hunting big, mature mule deer often involves high alpine basins, steep climbs, hours of glassing, and more frustration than success. But not necessarily for a crafty old hunter like grandpa. Despite his limitations, in the late summer he decided to explore one of the closest canyons by our ranch. There is an easy trail that leads into that canyon and he had found deer there before. As if you couldn’t script it any better, on his first walk into the canyon he found a pretty 4x4 buck nestled in a tight little aspen grove. I wasn’t there the day grandpa found that buck, but I think he somehow knew that buck would be there all along.



This story doesn’t end like some of the others I have experienced. There was no 7 mile climb to find this buck on the last day of the season, and there was no incredible shot at last light with a heavy packout in the dark. No, this hunt ended the same way many of grandpa’s hunts ended. He kept track of the buck for another couple weeks and on opening day he snuck within striking distance of that aspen grove and delivered a well placed bullet just behind the buck’s left lower shoulder. He had the quiet, calm confidence a hunter can only get when he/she has spent a significant time in the woods and appreciates it for what it is; perspective.

Grandpa was just as excited about that deer as a 12-year-old boy taking his first one. I think that is the way it should be. Grandpa couldn’t come with us on the family elk hunt that year. I didn’t know it at the time, but that was grandpa’s last hunt. I wish I had known so I could have savored it a little more, knowing that it was something I would never experience with him again. Several years later he was gone with my grandma by his side.



I still have grandpa’s last deer. During the COVID-19 quarantine, I had the extra time to remember him and our past hunting adventures. I decided to place them on some old barn wood and cover them with plaid, something grandpa always wore. It reminds me to cherish the good times, because things can change in an instant. It reminds me to keep my priorities in perspective. It reminds me to take one more look on a hunt to engrave it on my mind, because I probably won’t ever see that scene again. Someday I will have my last hunt and I can only hope I will have the same joy and excitement as grandpa had on his.

 

[timberman56]

great story... thanks for posting grateful I had 2 grandfathers who loved to hunt and fish and grandmothers who sometimes could out-fish them

 

[kansasdad]

Thanks for the memorial. Well done

 

[ashersdad]

Your Grandpa would be proud. Thanks for sharing and reminding us to remember the important things.

 

[bowhuntmontana]

Thank you for sharing this. Makes me think of my grandpa and his last hunt.

 

[noharleyyet]

Timely share...thank you.

 

[wseidel]

Thank you for sharing, MtnHuntr. What a touching tribute to your Grandfather and you have truly honored him. It's clear he left quite a legacy...same with my Mom and Dad. Every day I thank God for my parents and the incredible blessing they were to my life - and the lives of their grandchildren.

 

[Nick87]

Best read in quite some time! Thank you for sharing this!

 

[fishing4sanity]

I thoroughly enjoyed your story and the photos, thanks. The photo of your Grandfather with that buck is priceless!

 

[MaxPower]

Great tribute. Thank you for taking the time to share with us.

Can I ask about your parents recovery and how they're doing now (20+ years later I assume)?

 

[Sytes]

Thank you for sharing. A thoughtful read.

 

[thatsjet]

Thanks for sharing. As a grandpa myself and the first hunter (still a newbie) I can only hope my grandkids telling stories like these of me when I'm gone.

 

[Deleted member 38069]

Great reflection, thanks for sharing!

 

[Jape]

Great tribute. Thank you for taking the time to share with us.

Can I ask about your parents recovery and how they're doing now (20+ years later I assume)?

Thanks for asking. They are doing relatively well. My mom still has a rod that runs the length of her left leg so she can never kneel again. She has recovered from everything else. My dad still has some limited ROM in his right shoulder so he can’t lift it much above shoulder height but much better than the alternative.

 

[BearFoot]

Thank you for this. Very inspiring!

My grandmother came to America from Lithuania, the men in her life where all shot dead. A Russian thing. She arrived with her two children on the last voyage of the ship Queen Marry. My mother married a US army man. Produced three boys, and at a very early age, raised them by herself. A singal mother. We lived in two bedroom apartments growing up. Me, my brothers sharing one room. My brothers and I had no male influence going up. we were street kids. California, Ohio, Florida. Each place offered experience and learning. I am a first generation American. There is no privilege. Life was rough, but attitude is everything. Have my own kids and grand children now. I am an influential grandfather. A great crop of kids are coming!

 

[marshman]

You got a few tears flowing with this one, now to the work day. thanks for sharing your memories.

 

[Festus]

Thank you for a healthy dose of perspective.

 

[Ben Lamb]

What a wonderful post. Thanks for putting this up!