Hunting Trip

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to go hunting with my dad. I have been hunting since I was twelve-years-old, but because of different circumstances—living in California, being pregnant, recently having a baby—I have not had the chance to go hunting with my dad in years. But the opportunity finally arrived, and I was more than happy to take it.



We woke up Saturday morning at 4:00 AM, in order to be on the road at 4:30 (even though it was early, I woke up almost every hour the night before, because I was so excited). But the appointed hour finally arrived, and I couldn’t have been more eager.



We had to drive for over an hour to get to the trailhead that leads to the open hunt. Once there, my dad and Caleb (my dad's friend's high school son) unloaded the horses and prepared our packs. After getting everything packed and secure, we headed up—and down—the trail. Now, I am not the most comfortable girl on a horse—they sometimes scare me—but my dad and Caleb assured me that this horse was very nice. So I rode the horse, Bo, on the skinny trail along the mountains and cliffs with not much fear. We saw lots of dear—mostly does—and we really had a fantastic time.



After a while of riding, we made it on the top of a mountain, and my dad and Caleb were eagerly scanning the draws, with their binoculars, looking for bucks. They finally found a small one—only a two-pointer—that was bedded down. We decided to tie up our horses and sneak up on the deer along another ridge. So we tied the horses, hiked down the steep cliff, and got on our stomachs on the ridge opposite the buck. And to our luck, by the time we got there, we saw six bucks making their way out of the draw and over the next ridge. We were prepared to shoot, but it was going to be a quite a distance. And I guess our hesitation was too much, because we never had a chance to get a shot in.



My dad, who has lime’s disease, did not think he could make it back up the steep hill to where our horses were waiting. He told Caleb and I to go get the horses and meet him on the next ridge over. So, Caleb and I hiked up the hill, and got the horses ready. Since we had four horses (one for each of us to ride, and a packhorse), Caleb decided to lead my dad’s and see if the packhorse would just follow us. It seemed like a good idea, until the pack horse refused to follow. It took off in the opposite direction, and Caleb had to go after it. He handed me the halter to my dad’s horse (Caleb forgot the bridals, so my dad and I were riding with only halters) and took off after the packhorse. Bo was none too happy about being left, so he started to stamp his foot and turn circles. I tried to calm him down, but without a bit in his mouth, he would not listen to me. My “Woa! Woas!” did little to pacify him. Eventually he had had enough of me, and he just took off running after Caleb’s horse (but remember, we are on the top of a mountain). I was a little freaked out at this point, and I dropped the halter rope to my dad’s horse, and just tried to hang on to the saddle. I then attempted to pull Bo back and stop him, but he was having none of that. He started bucking. At that point instinct kicked in, and I bailed off into the rocks and sagebrush. My camera got knocked, and my batteries fell somewhere, and I hit my leg. But other than that, I was not hurt. And Bo happily trotted over to Caleb, as did my Dad’s horse.

After my non-graceful landing, I got back in the saddle—even though I did not want to. But we needed to continue our trek to the next ridge to get my dad. But, unfortunately for me, after the last incidence, Bo decided he could do his own thing. So, instead of walking up the next hill, he jumped over sagebrush the whole way up. Then he went fast and scrambled down the other side (all my efforts at sitting well in the saddle went right out the door—I was holding on for dear life). Then, we got to the point where it got really steep. We were supposed to go down several small steep hills to reach my dad, but after the recent events, I knew I could not go down the really steep one. I expressed to Caleb my fears, and I’m sure at 15, he did not know what to do with me. I said I would lead the horse down, but when I tried, the horse would not budge. I was about in tears at this point—okay I was in tears—because I did not want to go down another steep hill on Bo. Caleb, finally found some large rocks and tied Bo and the packhorse to them and told me to wait there. He then went and got my dad and they came back to meet me.

When my dad got back I told him I was hiking for a while—meaning, that I hiked down that entire mountain without one complaint. I did have to ride Bo through the creeks, and over some points, but I was done for a while. But when we finally reached the original trail, I got back on Bo and road him out to the trailhead. And I wasn’t too scared.

It really was a beautiful trip with many more crazy incidents—the one trail being washed out, two of the horses taking off, trying to get one of the horses to pull my dad up with his tail because it was too steep to ride and my dad’s feet are not so good anymore, and our truck dying on a hill 20 minutes from home. But even with all of the crazy incidents, I enjoyed every minute of the trip. And I can’t wait to go again (on a different horse, of course).