Essay on Personal Narrative- Moose Hunt

At 17, a muzzelloader elk hunt in Navada was one of the best things to have ever happened to me in my life. A tag for the Jarbidge WIlderness Area is one of the best spots for it too. It all started out on the 500 mile drive out to destination, followed by 2 solid days of scouting the ranges for elk. Archery season was just ending when we were starting so the elk had some pressure but not as much as in rifle season. There were plenty of bulls that were well worth of shooting so we felt like we had a good chance of getting one. On opening day, a Thursday, we got on 3 nice 5x5 and 6x6 bulls with my dad and my uncle spotting from a ridge away but we either had no shot or we spooked cows before we could shoot. That day I put of about 15 miles and 2,000 feet of climbing. That night we re-fueled and slept had for the long

Archery season was just ending, so the elk had experienced some pressure. The bulls were in full rut and their bugles could be heard for miles. On the 2 days we spent scouting, we had spotted a few bulls from far away that were well worth shooting, so we felt like our chances of getting one on this hunt was good. It was unlike anything else to experience going from hearing nothing but a gentle breeze flowing through the trees on the ridges broken by the deep tone of an elk bugle from a mile away.

I was ten, it was my first time hunting in Hagerman, we finished up with about four ducks shy of our limits, we had came through Hagerman in the dark, so this drive was all new to me. I remember driving through looking in the sky seeing ducks and geese everywhere, it seemed unreal to me. Just when I thought I had seen more ducks than I have ever seen in my life we drove past a pond, my jaw dropped the pond seemed as if this pond could not hold another bird. I instantly asked my father if I could jump the pond, he giggled under his breath and said "That’s the refuge" being ten and not knowing what that meant I said "so". This made my father giggle a little harder, and he replied to me with a sarcastic voice saying " Sooooo, you wanna never hunt again?". Still being confused all my father had to do was look at me and he know he had to go into more detail. He told me all about how those birds will stay there and let you feed them, and how they know there safe there. This still meant nothing to me so I came back with the comment "Then this will be easy!!" Thais is when my dad went on to explain to me how it was illegal to hunt on the refuge. Still being young I just thought that was unfair. Today as an avid outdoorsman I understand the importance in having

killed a moose, “ I now wish I had never shot the moose. One of the greatest tragedies of my

First, At about eleven o'clock I was riding around on my deer lease just listening to music and looking for deer. Also I was checking my game cameras. Next, I checked my deer camera and I thought I would make a circle and see if I could see any deer. So we are about halfway through making a circle and we start seeing some deer. Also, we saw a really big ten point, but it's about eleven thirty now and it's getting frigid .

My dad drove us nearly to the top or the mountain, right about tree line. We parked the truck at the opening of a canyon and geared up. We put on our orange and our fanny packs and grabbed our guns. I was using a Winchester 270 and my dad was using a Savage 7mm.

As we were leaving at dusk to head back to camp after not seeing anything just up the valley from us we heard two shots and later found out that in the area we first started in that morning another person got a moose. The next day we went out at about the same time as the day before and went to a new spot. When we arrived there we walked for about an hour and then stopped because we thought we could hear something down the hill from us moving in the brush. Sure enough it was a moose but it was very hard to see and i couldn’t get a shot at it. We only got a glimpse of it for a few seconds and then it was gone. It is crazy how such a big animal can just disappear like it did without any sign. After that we kept going and the only other sign we saw that day was a shed from the year before that had been partially eaten by mice. We went home after that and the next couple of days were very much the same. Then it came to our final day of the hunt. We woke up very early that morning determined and excited to go to a spot we had to been to yet. We got to the new spot and hiked for about an hour before we came to a fresh trail where a moose had not passed through more than a few minutes before us. We most likely scared the animal as we were approaching the trail. We

One early saturday morning my dad (Shawn), my cousin (trey), and I woke up at 2:30 a.m. to go duck hunting. When we get out there we are one of the first people there and 4:00 comes along and we sent out to our spot. When we come to a spot that boats can't go we have to walk for about 15 minutes. As we are putting out the last of are decoys we here so more people throwing out decoys and they are pretty close. Well, we start talking to them and they are pretty nice and they ask if they can hunt with us and we said yes. Then, daylight comes and a group of ducks come in and we shot but I was the only one that killed one that we could find and it´s a drake which is a male mallard. Then, my dad shoots and we could not find his ducks.

Next thing I knew, it was February 12th, the night before my big hunt. I was so ecstatic that night, I could not sleep. I stayed up through the night cleaning my gun and making sure I packed everything. I ended up sleeping on the five hour drive to the hunting grounds. The next couple of hours we spent setting up the tents and gathering wood to make a fire. We got to sleep early that night so we could get up early and scout the area.

After that we sat in silence for about 20 minutes until the cold began to nip at my feet and the tips of my fingers which made me very restless but I tried to do my best so I would not scare away the deer. When we hit the 60 minute mark I was bored out of my mind, I thought I would go crazy, but suddenly my Father grabbed my coat and pointed out Words the west side of the field that we were watching. I

IF YOU REALLY want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is why I love to hunt so much. To me, hunting season is probably the best time of the year. The weather is wonderful, not too hot and not too cold. It's basically a tradition to go to hunting camp every year. It's probably what I look forward to the most in the fall. When I go I am normally there with my dad, my uncle, a family friend named Kevin, and his dad named Archy. I go to hunting camp on the opening weekend of hunting season. The first day my dad and I set up everything at our blinds, and then head back to the camp. We spend the rest of the night hanging around with all the guys. It's super fun, we play games like 500 rummy and cribbage while watching whatever football games are

Throughout my life, the outdoors have been a large part of me. I was lucky enough to be raised by a family of hunters, being brought into the sport by my grandpa, dad, and uncle. Each and every year we take part in hunting white-tailed deer and turkey. When we're together, hearing stories of past hunts is routine. Looking at the shoulder mount of a buck or the spread fan and beard on the wall never fails to stir something up. Our family addiction has carried on through generations. However, as time has passed so has hunting.

the toughest decision i've had was last night i last night i let an 8 point walk by my stand at 7 yards so i was debating on killing him because there are only 2 weeks of deer season left and i still have a buck tag i sat there and watch him come in debating on it but i ended up letting him pass and did not kill him. It was so tough and i regretted it after but it's part of hunting and he will be a heck of a deer next year so who knows i may see him again this year or maybe next year when he is bigger only time will tell. i sat there watching him walk away as i was beating myself up for not killing him. 100 times that's home many time i regretted not killing that deer last night it was around 26 degrees and the sun was shining the leaves were

It was about 13 degrees out and the sun had just started to peek over the mountains behind our house. It was a magnificent morning. It was one of those crisp, cold mornings with no wind and I could hear for miles and miles. I remember hearing my neighbor’s dog, Orvis, barking two miles away. I kept walking for about a quarter mile until I came upon a field that was always a hot spot for deer in the morning. It was an exciting feeling to be out in the woods with the deer, yet at the same time, a terrifying feeling. Was I going to fail yet another year of not bagging my buck? I was anxious as to what my family and friends would think of me. I needed to get a deer in the worst way.

My dad spoke to me the morning of November 2nd “Get up. Get up. GET UP! Get out of bed if you wanna go hunt”. I checked to see the time and the clock read 4:30am. I laid in my coffin sized bunk for a minute or two, gradually climbing out by flinging one leg over the edge and then the other, and sliding off the top as slow as a sloth. I stood up and shuffled over to the table where I plopped down across from my dad. As my uncle Kirk made breakfast and coffee I asked my dad “Are you having a good birthday weekend?”. He replied “It 's been great, now lets go get one.” We all ate our breakfast and prepared for the hunt. As I was putting on layer after layer I got a strange feeling. I did not know if I felt good or bad, so I stayed positive and thought today would be the day. I climbed into the truck and we lumbered down the road.