Let me start off by saying that I’m not the most poetic, so writing up hunt stories are difficult for me. So, here goes mine.
Like most nonresidents, this hunt started with buying points about five years ago. Well, my group drew a Wyoming elk tag and plans started. I really wasn’t getting too excited cause my Dad, whom had been battling cancer for several years, was not doing well at all.
I told the guys in my group that I wasn’t going on the hunt because Daddy was too sick. Of course, they understood and that was that.
Well, Daddy’s condition took a very fast turn towards the worst. Daddy died October 2nd and we were able to be there by his side when he passed.
After the funeral, my Mom asked when I was leaving on my trip. I told her that I wasn’t going cause Daddy had been so sick. Mom told me, “you know your Daddy would want you to go.”
So in a whirlwind trying to get things together, we left for the long drive on October 12th.
Opening morning found me in the same spot I had killed a good mule deer buck a few years back. Well, at around 8:30 on opening morning, I filled my tag on a bull elk.
The happiness of the kill quickly vanished, cause my first call after a successful hunt is to my Daddy. I suddenly realized that I won’t ever get to do that again. Well, a phone call wasn’t made, but I certainly talked to Daddy that day when I knelt next to that bull.
Like most nonresidents, this hunt started with buying points about five years ago. Well, my group drew a Wyoming elk tag and plans started. I really wasn’t getting too excited cause my Dad, whom had been battling cancer for several years, was not doing well at all.
I told the guys in my group that I wasn’t going on the hunt because Daddy was too sick. Of course, they understood and that was that.
Well, Daddy’s condition took a very fast turn towards the worst. Daddy died October 2nd and we were able to be there by his side when he passed.
After the funeral, my Mom asked when I was leaving on my trip. I told her that I wasn’t going cause Daddy had been so sick. Mom told me, “you know your Daddy would want you to go.”
So in a whirlwind trying to get things together, we left for the long drive on October 12th.
Opening morning found me in the same spot I had killed a good mule deer buck a few years back. Well, at around 8:30 on opening morning, I filled my tag on a bull elk.
The happiness of the kill quickly vanished, cause my first call after a successful hunt is to my Daddy. I suddenly realized that I won’t ever get to do that again. Well, a phone call wasn’t made, but I certainly talked to Daddy that day when I knelt next to that bull.
