The Ups and Downs

It will all come together. It will all fall apart. These likelihoods play on the minds of anglers and hunters. We are more than ready to lay our hands on a freak of nature, and yet, we are not afraid to give pause if we find ourselves assuming ongoing roles in worst-case scenarios.

And so, as a new season approaches, we reflect and adjust and laugh at ourselves and shake our heads in wonder how we got so stupid and yet so darn lucky.

Careful thought is required for a successful outing. It is a real problem when you are not having fun. And I don’t mean just having fun in the moment. We can expect and prepare for very real low points, struggles and frustrations, and this is the normal wear-and-tear of a life outdoors. But when you are not having fun because of an injury, that can get you down in a hard way.

A buddy and I flew into moose camp in late August, armed with fishing rods and chainsaws and brushsaws and all sorts of crazy energy. But then I woke that first morning with the kind of lower back pain that I know too well to be of the very worst variety. Imagine a disjointed robot crumpled in a heap of sparks and then flames.

Still when able, we explored the changes to the landscape including examples of beavers doing whatever they damn well please. We caught our fill of walleye, and on the same leaderless crankbait, I brought a fifteen-pound pike close enough to touch. Buddy was choked when it broke-off. I was happy that we didn’t tip the canoe or catch ourselves on an errant treble hook.

It is spooky to feel incapable when off-grid. But so it is. Eventually, all that I could think about was the moose hunt, one month away. It hurts the worst, the anticipation of having to tell your hunting buddies that you are out. One less person to work the camp and hunt, a set of hands however skilled, a set of eyes to help will a moose into view. There is a lot that gets done to earn that week-long hunt. It feels like an accomplishment and privilege to even being able to try for moose. Bowing out felt weak and entirely crushing.

Thankfully, the boys went out there and got it done. For the first time in many attempts, there was a young bull moose hanging in camp to show for our efforts, plus encounters with other bulls. The meal that night, paired with grouse, I can almost taste, almost. I will be in camp to hunt next year. And it felt better to get together upon their return for the good part of a day to butcher all that fine meat.

I felt like I had something to prove going into deer season. My property is in the zone where a second deer tag is available, and I feed two teenagers. That morning, I took a doe, one of two that appeared from nowhere at forty yards. That evening, I tagged the biggest buck that I have shot in my twenty years of whitetail hunting. I was happy, so happy, and dumbstruck. Breathing heavy and heart racing, then quiet and present, feeling the weight of the animal, and grateful for the chance to get my head right again.

Other buddy also experienced his share of setbacks this year. We hunted most every weekend through bow and muzzleloader and rifle seasons. While others saw deer most every sit, he had little opportunity. Then, he watched the biggest buck on the property make a scrape inside of seventy-five yards from his stand. When the shot presented itself, he quite calmly whiffed it, a clean miss, likely a deflection from an unseen branch. Devastation set in hard. And it was into December until redemption came with another two-deer day.

Over the holidays we got together for our annual Shanksgiving dinner. This originated when I opened my big mouth about how good deer shanks can taste. Prior, no one wanted shanks and I would end up with more legs than a ZZ Top video. Now we share in the feast of Shanksgiving to remind ourselves of our great pursuits and those moments each season when everything negative in life goes silent and your surroundings become amplified. We thrive in wait for that opportunity to catch something good. It all seems tastier when made to feel that hunger first. n

The field work of Dr. Vince Crichton is now archived at www.docmoose.com. Please visit this dynamic website to learn more about moose in Manitoba and to share in Vince’s writing and resources for moose hunters.

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