Picking My Shots

In hunting, as in life, we have to pick our shots.

When an opportunity presents itself, sometimes we have mere seconds to decide whether or not . . .

It’s too risky
Our family needs it as much as we want it
The timing is right
It’s meant for someone else
We’re ready to both take the shot and carry the load

Today I chose to pass on two small muley bucks. The hubs downed one right before my opportunity came (and brought home an antelope last week), so we weren’t desperate for meat. We also weren’t desperately in love with the idea of dragging out not one, but two animals after a grueling 2-mile hike in which we gained 2,200 feet of elevation. What comes down must also go up. . . on someone’s back, game cart, or pack animal.

So I passed, but I have no regrets. Spending a sunny day in the mountains with my number one hunting buddy was glorious. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll have another chance at the monster buck that got away from me last weekend.

(Photo credit: M2d Camo)