An early walk

Finally back in Steamboat, my dad and I woke up at 4:00am for some sunriking with bows, AKA hunting. We packed and headed out to one of our favorite spots. Unfortunately the weather and lunar cycle for my planned week of epic bow hunting isn't the greatest. It is hot – really hot, meaning the elk aren't gathering into their herds, but are spread out in ones and twos. The moon is full, meaning that the elk are up partying all night and sleeping all day, and we aren’t quite into the rut (mating) yet, so the elk aren’t bugling a ton. Other than that, the timing was perfect, so my dad and I set off hiking, sniffing the air and looking for any deep tan or brown colors amongst the trees. Hiking is one thing. Bushwhacking is another. Bushwhacking while trying to keep the wind in your face, flexing every micro muscle to make as little noise as possible, and wondering all the while “if I were an elk…” is downright exhausting. Within the first twenty minutes, I was sweating through my shirt. By the thirtieth, crunched leaves made me cringe, and every broken stick felt like a stab. A bird flew and I jumped; a squirrel cackled and I barely stayed on my feet. After four hours or so of tiptoeing, I started looking at my feet, just following my dad. The next thing I knew, I saw the only catch of the day – a moose shed (moose shed their antlers before winter). No bugles or fresh elk poop, but a nice shed for the buffet table my dad and I built and a good workout before one in the afternoon. My peanutbutter and jelly never tasted so good.