OK, I have one of those "moments" for myself. I lived in Alaska for 30 years and hunted on skis, snowshoes at 20 below , and other times. But the hunt I remember most was when I was hunting alone. It was in the Black Hills of South Dakota. I had driven my 1965 Ford sedan into the hills. They had lots of accessible fire and logging trails there then. I saw a whitetail buck run in front of me, just as it was starting to snow. I got out of the car and started following the tracks . I saw the buck several times, but never had a shot. After about 1 1/2 hours, the snow was building up to mabye six inches and I realized I was probably never going to catch up for a shot. "Better go back", I thought. Maybe I can follow my tracks, but they were rapidly filling. I went maybe 20 yards ahead and there was my car. The car I had left an hour and a half ago. My heart stopped for a moment , thinking I could have gone back, maybe getting lost. I got in the car and got out of the Hills. Built a fire at home, which had never felt more comfortable.
Last edited by Daryl Hallquist; 03/03/10 11:27 AM.
