2024Vol41No3NBUJournal

body up so that they are supporting themselves without you holding them.That way you can see the full size of them without your hands covering them. Some advice I wish I got when I started hunting. “Oh, he’s a trash can! That’s awesome!” Lu kept calling Rodger garbage and I didn’t understand why. I thought he was a decent sized buck! Lu explained to me that Rodgers' horns were twisted and extremely asymmetrical, meaning he’s fewer points for trophy hunts. I laughed so hard at this because I loved the uniqueness of Rodgers horns. The thought that someone would have passed up the shot blew my mind.

It was time to announce to the world that I had brought Rodger home. We let our friends at Scheels know and they began to proclaim through the back offices, “Sarah got the Jolly Rodger!” That night was the butchering party. There was a beautiful assembly line in the house where Lu cut the meat, I sorted the cuts, one friend sealed them in vacuum bags, and another friend put them in the freezer. Lu cooked up some of the back strap and served it with his family's chimichurri recipe.

We then pulled out a tarp to skin and quarter Rodger on. I start cutting the pelvis and LU starts skinning at the neck. This has been our technique in the past so that I can get the organs out as quickly as possible and Lu gets the hide off cleanly so the meat can cool down. We had Rodger packed in a few hours and walking back to the truck to get him on ice. I then stood and realized that we had planned this to be a 7 day hunt, and we got the animal on day 2. My first archery hunt went almost too well. As we packed up camp and took down the blind, my mind kept wandering back to the original buck. Was it truly OK? Did I do the right thing? We started driving to the main road, and what do we see but the original three bucks from the morning. And the one in the middle had a small mark on its shoulder blade. It was running and moving perfectly fine. This was the relief I needed. An animal was not going to suffer because of me. Positive vibes for the win!

The amount of celebration for my successful hunt was overwhelming. There is always a bit of jealousy from those who weren't able to fulfil their tags, or only got points for the season. But when a community comes together to help someone succeed, the win becomes a group win. This is what it means to me to be a hunter. Hunting is not for the faint of heart. It takes hard work, research, and a mind set to quickly take a life. And this sacrifice is never taken lightly. The animal's loss is mourned and celebrated all at once. There is an understanding that an ecological balance is put into place from harvesting an animal. Our public land systems are healthier and more beautiful for it. Every bit of the animal is used and respected. While the gut pile was left behind, it will feed a coyote for weeks. The bones were later boiled and made into broth. The meat was preserved and shared with friends. The hide is tanned and admired. And the head is mounted on the wall as a reminder of what it takes to be a hunter, that the mindset is half the battle.

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