Official 2026 Montana Draw Thread

What season will you be hunting this year?


  • Total voters
    95
  • This poll will close: .
I asked ChatGPt to write us a poem for the day:

The page stayed still.

No numbers,
no names,
just the same quiet screen
we checked at dawn
like it might whisper something new
if we cared enough.

Coffee went cold beside us,
boots by the door
like they already knew
they wouldn’t be needed yet.

All winter we carried it—
that thin thread of September air,
bugles breaking morning fog,
frost on the edges of a promise
we hadn’t even been given.

We told ourselves,
“Today’s the day.”

And today came—
and passed—
like a trail that fades
right when it matters most.

Somewhere,
those elk still move through timber
without knowing our names,
without knowing how close
we felt to them this morning.

The mountains didn’t change.
The wind didn’t answer.

Only us—
standing there
refreshing a silent page,
holding onto a hunt
that, for now,
is still just a hope.
 
I asked ChatGPt to write us a poem for the day:

The page stayed still.

No numbers,
no names,
just the same quiet screen
we checked at dawn
like it might whisper something new
if we cared enough.

Coffee went cold beside us,
boots by the door
like they already knew
they wouldn’t be needed yet.

All winter we carried it—
that thin thread of September air,
bugles breaking morning fog,
frost on the edges of a promise
we hadn’t even been given.

We told ourselves,
“Today’s the day.”

And today came—
and passed—
like a trail that fades
right when it matters most.

Somewhere,
those elk still move through timber
without knowing our names,
without knowing how close
we felt to them this morning.

The mountains didn’t change.
The wind didn’t answer.

Only us—
standing there
refreshing a silent page,
holding onto a hunt
that, for now,
is still just a hope.
IMG_3028.gif
 
I asked ChatGPt to write us a poem for the day:

The page stayed still.

No numbers,
no names,
just the same quiet screen
we checked at dawn
like it might whisper something new
if we cared enough.

Coffee went cold beside us,
boots by the door
like they already knew
they wouldn’t be needed yet.

All winter we carried it—
that thin thread of September air,
bugles breaking morning fog,
frost on the edges of a promise
we hadn’t even been given.

We told ourselves,
“Today’s the day.”

And today came—
and passed—
like a trail that fades
right when it matters most.

Somewhere,
those elk still move through timber
without knowing our names,
without knowing how close
we felt to them this morning.

The mountains didn’t change.
The wind didn’t answer.

Only us—
standing there
refreshing a silent page,
holding onto a hunt
that, for now,
is still just a hope.
 

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Why is it still pending for me????? (just bitching, I can wait haha)

Edit: it’s because I’m a resident idiot and this is the *permit* drawing, not tag drawings.
 
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