Last week, thanks to a birthday gift of time and a guide, I went elk hunting for the first time and clipped my tag at the end of a long, frigid day with biting winds. After nearly nine hours of following a herd across steep terrain, my legs felt stiff and incapable of one more step, my toes had long since lost all feeling, and my fingers only functioned thanks to the ample supply of hand warmers I’ve learned to pack when hunting.
Hunting for the story of gratitude
Last week, thanks to a birthday gift of time and a guide, I went elk hunting for the first time and clipped my tag at the end of a long, frigid day with biting winds. After nearly nine hours of following a herd across steep terrain, my legs felt stiff and incapable of one more step, my toes had long since lost all feeling, and my fingers only functioned thanks to the ample supply of hand warmers I’ve learned to pack when hunting.
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