Solitude

I opened my eyes when I heard the wind dying down outside the tent. It was getting close to sunrise and the wind was taking it's only break for the last couple of days. I put my clothes on and didn't bother with a fire, I walked outside to stretch out and look around camp. The snow was lit up extremely white in contrast to the darkness of the timber on the surrounding mountains. The starry sky illuminated everything enough to walk without a lantern. I took a minute this morning to enjoy the vast constellations while I took a badly needed piss.
This was the first day I hadn't had dudes around me for quite some time, and I was gonna enjoy it.
I went back into the tent and lit the small single burner that sat next to the wood stove. The small blue flames cast little light inside the tent, adding little to the glow of the stars. I covered it with the black and blue coffee pot, and headed to the corral. Today I would check my traps in solitude, waiting for the next bunch of hunters to arrive. It would be the same attitudes the first day. Lots of energy, lots of questions, all of it familiar.
I thought about my brothers for a minute while I walked through the snow to catch my horse. I wondered how differently their days were starting where they were, a thousand miles away. It was hard to imagine anything but my reality. Sheriff played no games this morning, and silently we had a moment of understanding. I led him over by the tent and tied him down to the rail.
My coffee was boiling when I finished brushing Sheriff and returned to the tent. It still wouldn't be light for an hour at least so I wasn't in much of a hurry. I squatted to my heels and enjoyed the first hot sip of the coffee. The steam rising from my cup opened my nostrils and perked my eyes to the cold air. I sat completely still and took the moment in.
I had a boiled egg left in my pommel bag for breakfast, which seemed to be just like every other one I had ever eaten. My coffee cooled enough to drink in big gulps and it was much enjoyed that way. I finished my breakfast and went to saddle my horse.
This morning was a welcome break from the routine I had acquired out here. I only had to take care of myself, and I welcomed the simplicity. No standing inside the cook tent sipping coffee, waiting for breakfast while the dudes told jokes and chattered about their experience. No waiting to use the latrine. No questions. No orders.
It was somewhat warm this morning and Sheriff stood comfortably at the rail as I laid the blanket over his whithers. I slid my rig over his back and cinched it down. He shifted his weight after I had buckled the breast collar and both cinches were drawn snug. He was ready to go.
I returned to the tent and grabbed my riffle, checked the valve on the propane, and made sure things were in order.
I slid my riffle into the scabbard, and swung up into the saddle. With a squeeze of my heels we headed up the creek and out of camp in the darkness. I thought about the sets I had to check, and what might be in them today.

One More Elk

So far I have butchered two elk, two antelope, and half a deer. I have one more elk to go.
I can hardly wait to be done. My smoker will be working overtime for the next week. I am getting cabin fever, because I haven't been outside very long for more than a week. Hopefully I'll be done tomorrow.

pictures from the field.

Winter mornings

The clear cold air seems completely still, like it is too cold to move. The trees are covered with a fine layer of what seems like snow, but cannot be. Snow only sticks to the tops due to gravity. There is a rare thing that happens when the fog rolls in during the evening and settles as the temperature drops. All the moisture that was in the air freezes to everything it touches, covering it with a layer of white frost crystals that wrap themselves completely around everything like paint.
In the early morning sunlight everything sparkles and shines. It is beautiful, so much so that it doesn't enter your mind how truly cold it is outside.

Love

"Each one of us here today will at one time look upon a loved one who is in need and ask the same question; We are willing to help, Lord, but what, if anything, is needed? For it is true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of our selves to give or, more often than not, the part that we have to give is not wanted. And so it is those who we live with and should know who elude us. But we can still love them... We can love completely without complete understanding." - A River Runs Through It.
There is nothing more upsetting than reaching out to someone you love, who clearly needs help, only to be rejected. I know this feeling better than perhaps one should.
I am consumed by the struggles of the ones I love the most, and always am trying to figure out how to help them. The answer that I am finally getting beat into my thick skin is that there is no answer. You simply can't help people. You can only love them. You can only offer yourself and a hand for them to hold. If they choose to, they might take your hand. More often than not, they turn away completely and pretend that they never saw your hand in the first place. Pride is a heavy stone that will crush and destroy anything in its path.
People will do only what they choose to do. I have given up praying for help as well. Not because I have given up on God, but because I am beginning to learn that it is not up to the Lord. It is up to the person. Sometimes, they believe that there is nothing wrong and other times they know it, but deny it.
All I know is that no one is perfect or above problems. I have my own, so do you. How we deal with them makes the difference.
I have made a lot of mistakes trying to help people I love. I have said things in anger that I wished I had not. Things I can never take back, only apologize for having said. I have become frustrated to the boiling point searching for understanding, only to remain in the dark feeling angry and guilty. Although, my greatest mistake has been taking it personal. Like the whole thing is somehow my fault.
I know that it isn't my fault, but because I love them it becomes my burden too.
I am learning that I can't fix many of these things, even though it hurts extremely bad to admit.
I am learning that sometimes there is nothing that we can do, we can only try. I still refuse to give up and ignore that there is a problem, even though I may be the only one.
I am learning that you don't have to understand completely to love.

I am learning that maybe all I can really do is Love.

People who earn our respect.

In my line(s) of work I am fortunate to meet a wide variety of people. Most of them good, others well... I would rather forget I ever met them, except that they painted a clear picture of what I don't want to be like. I have to say a small thank you for that.
One thing that almost all of them have in common is money, lets face it their outings are not cheap. Some of them are wealthy, others are good at saving and going after what they want, none of them are poor.
One thing that generally separates them first, is how they came about their money. Many of them simply inherited money. Others inherited some money, but then made their own out of what they got handed to them. The last are self made men, who acquired all they have from good fortune, hard work, and risk. Not necessarily in that order.
I would like to tell you that most of the time the self made men are the most respectable. Not the case at all. Life is full of surprises, and sometimes they turn out to be good surprises. I am generally surprised when people who inherit their wealth turn out to be very kind and respectful, especially when they are from back east, or California. (Lets face it, they think differently than we do.)
Lately I have been surprised a lot. Most wealthy "trust-funders" treat me like a servant and use only manners for public display. They feel entitled to everything, and are rarely genuine. This past year I have had the privilege to meet a lot of "trust-funders" that are very genuine and polite, some who even help out. It has been a real breath of fresh air.
I have also had my fill of self made people who are so full of their own shit that it seeps from every orifice. I respect that they made themselves what they are, but they need a dose of reality to remember that they are just people. I am very honest and open with people like this, some of them appreciate my outlook on life, and others are offended. I remind them that money has very little influence on me. My pride goes beyond pushing and shoving.
I met one man in particular last year who immediately earned my respect with a hand-shake and a smile. Sometimes you can tell an awful lot about someone by your first impression. His name was Bryce and he had the look of a man with a lot of money, but a very strong grip and a kind eye.
Bryce is a fit man in his sixties. He was born and raised in an Indian village in utmost North Sasketchewan. His father was a "bush pilot" who learned to fly in WWII. Bryce was raised in very humble means with a sister. He grew up fighting with the natives almost every day of his life. When he refused to fight with them, they threatened to hurt his sister. Anyone who knows what it is like to have your butt kicked can only imagine a tiny glimpse of what he went through. Daily.
School was the only thing that mattered where he grew up, he said there was no such thing as sports, or electives like music. He earned a scholarship to Purdue, where he went on to study Nuclear engineering. When he finished his undergrad he moved to texas to pursue a doctorate in his early twenties.
To pay for his schooling, he began working for a man who painted parking lots. He soon started his own business painting parking lots. Next he began painting streets in subdivisions, and later started painting Hi-ways.
He quit pursuing his doctorate once his business really took off. After years of hard work he built a business that painted 70% of America's Hi-ways. Now they have 80% of the world market!!!!!!!!!
They have factories in nearly every country that produces the paint, as well as reflector posts and signs. Bryce built a Multi-billion dollar business from scratch. It took knowlege, luck, grit, risk, and most of all sacrifice. He worked everyday except christmas and half of thanksgiving for almost his whole life. He missed out on a lot of his family and their lives. I could see pain in his eyes and obvious regret when he talked about what he gave up.
Bryce never once told me about this on his own, it was on the third day of the trip before I knew anything about what he did for a living. He never acted like he had money, but to one who knows it is easy to tell. He was truly a prince of a man. Very grateful and polite, charming and respectful. He never complained, even though it poured rain for four straight days and the fishing stunk.
What I admired most about Bryce was not his money. It is easy to say that you want money like that, but very few are willing to make the sacrifices it takes to get it. I don't have it in me, quality of life is worth more than billions to me.
I admired how honest and respectful Bryce was. He was what I like to call a "real" person. He didn't let the money change who he was, and how he treated people. He had a ton of knowlege, and real ability. He was the kind of man you would go to when you needed advice or help. That wouldn't change even if he didn't have wealth.
I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up. I do however know what kind of Man I want to be. I want to be the kind of man people call when they need help, because they know that they can rely on you, and you will be there for them. I want to be the kind of guy that will find a way, even if I'm not sure. I want to be the kind of man who backs down to no one, and is honest to a fault. I also want to be the man who gives his whole life to his family and friends, afterall money is not the only wealth.