During the week of Thanksgiving 2020, we traveled to Bozeman, Montana, to celebrate the graduation of our oldest daughter, Lara, from Montana State University. While we were here, Lara and I, along with her boyfriend Trenton, went mule deer and elk hunting in the eastern foothills of the Bridger Mountains. While our hunt was not successful, we had an amazing day outdoors (as I often find with hunting, I enjoy the process as much as the product). And, as also often happens with me, I find myself thinking about the what enjoy most about spending time out-of-doors.
First, a bit about our trip. Samia and I agonized about whether it was responsible for us to travel during a spike in COVID-19 cases. We ultimately decided that we would limit our contact with people outside of our family - we drove straight through (15 hours) each way, and we kept to ourselves in Bozeman. We wore masks and washed hands. But we also know there is still a risk - we'll keep to ourselves for two weeks upon our return. Ultimately, we both felt that we wanted to be here to celebrate Lara's accomplishments.
Our hunt took me to a part of Montana I'd never seen - but one that I'd read about. Ivan Doig, probably my favorite author, grew up in the area around Ringling and White Sulfur Springs - and spent his early years up Sixteen Mile Creek on the east side of the Bridgers. When we left the highway near Ringling on our hunting excursion, we crossed Sixteen Mile Creek (and travelled briefly on the Sixteen Road). Our first hunt, on a ranch that is part of Montana Fish Wildlife & Parks' block management program, took us into the hills and coulees adjacent to bottom-land hayfields and cattle pastures. In addition to bringing to mind Doig's memoir This House of Sky, the ranch we hunted reminded me of the hayfields and pastures he writes about in English Creek.
As an aspiring writer (though certainly not of Doig's caliber), I've often thought about how our own landscapes and experiences must shape our writing. Seeing the landscape that shaped Doig's early life, and having some personal sense of the work he did as a kid and young man (including caring for sheep), I find that I have a new appreciation for his writing. The writing I like best, I suppose, reflects my own attitudes and disposition - even if it doesn't reflect my own landscape.
During this trip, I've been reading Chief Joseph and the Flight of the Nez Perce by Kent Nerburn. On the day before our hunting trip, I read of Joseph's cessation of hostilities near the Bear's Paw Mountains in northern Montana. Nerburn's description of the weather, the landscape, and the suffering of the people, were in my mind as we hiked through the blowing snow while we were hunting. One of the things I enjoy about hunting (and being outdoors generally) is testing my gear - clothing and equipment. Even with the snow and wind yesterday, my layers of wool and good boots kept me warm and comfortable. I can't imagine what it would have been like for the soldiers under General Miles' command, even in their winter gear. Even more, I can't imagine what the Nez Perce experienced - facing winter after a 1000-mile flight from their homeland.
As with so many of my hunting trips, yesterday we saw lots of deer and elk sign, but very few actual animals. Driving into the first ranch where we hunted, we saw several does and a nice buck. Once out hunting, we saw a coyote, several pronghorn antelope, and a group of five mule deer does. But despite our lack of "success," I found the experience thought-provoking, enjoyable, and deeply satisfying. I know I'm repeating myself, but being outside and quiet always offers new insights - both to my internal landscape, and to the environment around me.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
No comments:
Post a Comment