The Rockin Johnny B

Wednesday, November 9, 2011


Next year, I am leaving my rie at home
   For the Idaho Press-Tribune
   The hardest part about a hunting trip is coming home. I forget where I work or what I do for a living two minutes into the hunting trip. Once I get home, it only takes a second for all the bad habits and worries to reappear.
   I just returned from a great hunting trip. It wasn’t the best weather for camping, and although 
the deer were cooperating, we didn’t see anything of size.
   I get my best sleep when I’m at deer camp. When I’m home, I worry. I worry about the “what if’s.”
   Once I solve one problem, I worry about the next one, and the next one, and the next one.
   I’m a lawyer, and when I prepare for a case, I start out preparing for the obvious problems and concerns. Then I start preparing for and worrying about 
all the hypothetical problems that may come up. It’s an endless downward spiral.
   If I don’t have anything to worry about, I find something. I seldom sleep past 6 a.m. More often than not, I’m up by 5:30 a.m.
   If I have a trial or a stressful court hearing the next day, I’ll wake up in the middle of the night, thinking about it.
   My mind spirals out of control and I end up just getting up. It doesn’t matter if it’s only 4 
a.m. I’m not going to get back to sleep, anyway.
   But when I am at deer camp, I sleep like a dead man. The only thing I have to worry about is getting from the campfire to my tent.
   Twice during this last hunting trip I was in my sleeping bag by 8:30 p.m. and didn’t wake up until 7 a.m. That’s almost 11 hours of sleep! Why can’t I do that when I get home?
   I arrived at deer camp late Thursday evening. My buddies 
had already been in camp almost a week. Those who wanted to had already filled their tags and were having the time of their lives sitting around the campfire and taking it easy. The only worry they had was whether I brought the cinnamon rolls.
   I wanted to stay in camp all day, but I had to go hunting instead. A small buck ended an otherwise good hunting trip and I had to go.
   Next year, I’m leaving my rifle at home.

What a great story.  Boy, do I relate.  I love hunting and fishing.  I love the mountains.  I love the weather, they streams, the trees, the fish, the game.  I love everything about camping.  Food is the greatest when camping, the sleep is great once I get that first night under my belt and I love my camp partners.

This year, my wife, my brother in law, and myself drew on cow elk and we've been hunting every week since it opened in October.  When we are looking for elk, I don't think about anything except the elk.  None of us have scored, but we keep going because we all feel the same about 'the Getting Out.'  It's the best.

I will continue to hunt/fish until I cannot do it anymore.  I'm getting long in the tooth, but I can still see and aim and cast.  Thank you God for making my later years GOOD YEARS.

No comments:

Post a Comment