![]() All of the guys I worked with were devoted elk and mule deer hunters, and, when I arrived, bow season was in full swing. ![]() When I moved to Wyoming in September 2005, my perspective on hunting quickly changed. Through those years, I always enjoyed fishing and bird hunting, but never really considered them to be truly adventurous, challenging, or hardcore.* The adventures intensified through my teens and into my early twenties – a college semester spent mountaineering in the North Cascades, a climbing trip to Argentina’s Andes Mountains, pushing myself through long distance triathlons. Not particularly adventurous or challenging, especially when you consider the ridiculous numbers of whitetails in eastern North Carolina.Īs a boy, I was in perpetual motion and chose to spend my non-school time participating in more “interesting” activities – chopping trees, building trails, and exploring the woods behind my neighborhood, fly fishing for Tar River bluegill and bass (while avoiding copperheads), and becoming proficient at rappelling out of my 2 nd story bedroom window. ![]() ![]() As a young kid, it all seemed pretty boring – get up before sunrise, sit still in a cold tree stand for hours on end, (hopefully) shoot a deer, throw it in the back of a truck and drive home. Growing up in North Carolina, I was never drawn to the idea of deer hunting. ![]()
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