One Nation, Under God

It goes all too quickly

It’s all going by too quickly.

I worry I’ll miss something.

Since Sept. 1 I’ve been hunting more days than not. For the first two weeks of the season the weather remained hot and dry, and I only hunted the first hours of daylight.

Most mornings found me in a creek bottom where there was water for the dogs. They flushed sharptail and sage grouse out of the scant cover, and occasionally I managed to hit one.

Some mornings the grouse were scarce, and the pheasants and ducks -- not yet in season -- offered shots I couldn’t take. Now that both are in season, they don’t seem quite so plentiful.

Hunters, on the other hand, do. At least it appears so to me. I didn’t see another bird hunter until pheasant opened Oct. 7.

I enjoy the solitude, and having what appears to be the whole place to myself. It’s a little troubling, however, that there are so few other hunters out there. And too often those hunters that I do happen to run into are old guys like me.

I understand that some folks actually work, and can’t spend every day wandering the prairie shooting at stuff like I do, but really, it’s a mystery to me why there aren’t a few more irresponsible nimrods out there.

The five-week general big game season opens Oct. 21., and I have a cow elk tag in my pocket that needs filling. There was a time when that would be my top priority, but the dogs have changed things. I’m no longer ashamed to reply “No” when asked: “Git yer elk yet?”

Not that I don’t plan to “git” one, I just hope to do it quickly. And if I don’t, my manhood is no longer on the line.

At least antelope aren’t getting in the way this fall, the state having deemed me not worthy of a tag this season.

Sage grouse season is already closed. Big game season always goes by in a flash, and then it’s December, the last month I can hunt birds for another year.

I’m trying not to miss anything, but by anything I mean opportunities, not shots. I miss plenty of those.

God willing and the crick don’t rise, I won’t.

It’s cooler now and I usually hunt until nearly noon, then tell my wife I’ll catch up on chores later in the day before falling asleep in the recliner.

It all goes by too quickly.

Parker Heinlein is [email protected]

 

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