I've felt compelled to respond to a few different threads touching on this topic the past week and figured I'd just start a new post to open up a conversation regarding this. The contrasting outcomes between the thread Ron's wife put up regarding the pause in her husbands' SPOT check-in's and the thread regarding the goat hunter who died carrying out his billy make us all face questions about the risks we take and our pursuit of the experience. Both stories definitely made this real for me. I'm curious to hear where some of you stand and how you convey that to your families.
I've always ascribed to the mantra of "I'd be happy to die doing what I love" and took big risks in the mountains and in most other pursuits. But after getting married 4 years ago and even more so with the birth of my son last year, I've have to dial that back and it isn't a natural thing for me.
I carry a SPOT for my wife's peace of mind and also to give myself the best possible chance of coming home alive, I prepare for every contingency and am pretty prideful, it would take a lot for me to hit that "911" button, but I know there are situations you simply won't be able to get yourself out of while hunting solo, as I typically do. It hurts my pride to even carry the SPOT, but I know there are good reasons to bring it.
I had a friend go missing a few years back, our group of 5 had been scrambling up a remote river canyon and didn't make the progress we'd hoped, he was a more experienced climber than any of us and when our party decided to turn back, he opted to go on ahead. After hours of him not coming back, I went looking for him. I found his body at the bottom of a cliff, he'd fallen about 60 feet. From the looks of things a SPOT wouldn't have saved him. I still question all the time whether being there myself would have prevented that outcome.
The effect the experience had on me as an outdoorsman was profound, faced with the reality of the risks we take, it confirmed in me that they are pursuits worth following. If I didn't truly love this life then, I know the experience would have soured me to it and I would have given up all of this. More than before, I sought out exposure, risk and solitude and found it more fulfilling than ever.
It is an absolute tragedy that "TJ" did not return home to his children. But had he made it through, no doubt, that experience would have probably been at or near the very pinnacle of his hunting career. Reading about the climbers that found him, still alive, it cut to my core because I've been there. Going into this season I was faced with a very real reminder of some things I don't like to think about. But again it makes me accept and embrace what we're chasing when we strike out for the hills. And what we take down from the mountain with us are things we can get no other place.
My wife knew that when she married me, probably years before that, and she trusts me to make rational decisions when I'm out by myself, I have to respect that and it changes the way I operate. I still do things that every single person I know thinks are crazy. I'm sure most of you can relate. There's no definite line we can say, "as long as I don't step over that line, I'm perfectly safe, and I can still enjoy myself on this side" A lot of people out there do have that line, but as a group that chases wild animals in wild places, that line doesn't exist.
I envy the man I was who didn't have a SPOT, or a mortgage, or a plan, and had months to waste away in the wilderness. But I wouldn't trade where I am today for a bit of that. To be honest, at times I find myself resenting the responsibility that keeps me from taking things to the levels I want to, only at times, but to come home from the field with meat for my family and a calmed spirit, I know is a stronger counter to those feelings.
My wife still cries when I leave for a trip, my son doesn't understand why I leave, our friends don't understand the way I am, my bird dog I figure is the only one who gets it. Maybe some of you guys do too, we're a strange breed, I know.
Have a good season. Kiss your wife, hug your kids and go find what you're looking for.
I've always ascribed to the mantra of "I'd be happy to die doing what I love" and took big risks in the mountains and in most other pursuits. But after getting married 4 years ago and even more so with the birth of my son last year, I've have to dial that back and it isn't a natural thing for me.
I carry a SPOT for my wife's peace of mind and also to give myself the best possible chance of coming home alive, I prepare for every contingency and am pretty prideful, it would take a lot for me to hit that "911" button, but I know there are situations you simply won't be able to get yourself out of while hunting solo, as I typically do. It hurts my pride to even carry the SPOT, but I know there are good reasons to bring it.
I had a friend go missing a few years back, our group of 5 had been scrambling up a remote river canyon and didn't make the progress we'd hoped, he was a more experienced climber than any of us and when our party decided to turn back, he opted to go on ahead. After hours of him not coming back, I went looking for him. I found his body at the bottom of a cliff, he'd fallen about 60 feet. From the looks of things a SPOT wouldn't have saved him. I still question all the time whether being there myself would have prevented that outcome.
The effect the experience had on me as an outdoorsman was profound, faced with the reality of the risks we take, it confirmed in me that they are pursuits worth following. If I didn't truly love this life then, I know the experience would have soured me to it and I would have given up all of this. More than before, I sought out exposure, risk and solitude and found it more fulfilling than ever.
It is an absolute tragedy that "TJ" did not return home to his children. But had he made it through, no doubt, that experience would have probably been at or near the very pinnacle of his hunting career. Reading about the climbers that found him, still alive, it cut to my core because I've been there. Going into this season I was faced with a very real reminder of some things I don't like to think about. But again it makes me accept and embrace what we're chasing when we strike out for the hills. And what we take down from the mountain with us are things we can get no other place.
My wife knew that when she married me, probably years before that, and she trusts me to make rational decisions when I'm out by myself, I have to respect that and it changes the way I operate. I still do things that every single person I know thinks are crazy. I'm sure most of you can relate. There's no definite line we can say, "as long as I don't step over that line, I'm perfectly safe, and I can still enjoy myself on this side" A lot of people out there do have that line, but as a group that chases wild animals in wild places, that line doesn't exist.
I envy the man I was who didn't have a SPOT, or a mortgage, or a plan, and had months to waste away in the wilderness. But I wouldn't trade where I am today for a bit of that. To be honest, at times I find myself resenting the responsibility that keeps me from taking things to the levels I want to, only at times, but to come home from the field with meat for my family and a calmed spirit, I know is a stronger counter to those feelings.
My wife still cries when I leave for a trip, my son doesn't understand why I leave, our friends don't understand the way I am, my bird dog I figure is the only one who gets it. Maybe some of you guys do too, we're a strange breed, I know.
Have a good season. Kiss your wife, hug your kids and go find what you're looking for.