The Hunt is On....

"Come on Grandma, come on let's go for a walk," whines Cole.

"Where are my boots?" yells Sage from the back bedroom.

"Somebody needs to move Joe's truck," says Grandpa.

"I'll do it," says Sage running out the front door.

"No you won't, " I respond.

"Do you know how to drive it?" asks Grandpa.

"Grandma, come on..." pleads Cole.

"Where are my hunting pants?" asks Art.

"Should I know?" I ask.

"Is the truck okay?" I quiz Sage as he comes back into the house.

It's a hunting weekend in Nebraska.
Hunting runs in the Stape family. Fall would not be Fall without deer or elk hunting,
And it's impossible to forget the turkeys, pheasants, ducks and geese that find their way to my dinner table.

I'm married to a hunter, but I don't hunt.
I tried it ONCE...
At the time, I was sure that what Art loved I needed to learn to love.
What better way to learn than to go and experience the thrill of the hunt.
I'd grown up in the city, so the only deer I'd ever seen was in the zoo, but
Art would be my guide and teacher.

Art's relatives homesteaded in the Aspen area and he had grown up hunting with his dad and uncle in the mountains near Snow Mass.
It was still dark with frost on the ground when we started up the mountain that first morning.
Keep in mind that my idea of hiking was a walk around the block so that when
we hiked for hours, up one side of a mountain and then down the other, I was not happy.
Over the years, Art has learned to slow down when walking with me, but at that time I had to try and keep up with him and do it in silence. If we talked we could scare the deer away at least that is what a rather exasperated Art explained to me.
The day ended in exhaustion and no deer...but Art and I bonded in a special way.

I was determined to experience Art's world, and the next day started the same as the first.
We climbed in silence, well mostly, you can only imagine how impossible it was for me to keep totally quiet.
Early afternoon Art got his deer. I don't remember if it was a buck or doe, but I remember dragging it down the hill to the truck and it was huge and heavy, and that was after we removed the guts.
Yes, I said guts, and an animal that big has lots of guts. I had no idea.
I had only seen meat after it had been packaged and priced, or cooked.
I probably would have lost my lunch that day if we had eaten, but instead I gagged and complained all the way back to the truck.

When it was all said and done our weekend had been a success.
Art got his deer, and I learned that there are some things that a husband and wife don't have to enjoy together.
For us that would be hunting.
It is not my idea of fun.
For forty years I've supported the hunt from home...
Art goes and I enjoy my week alone.


I can hold the gun and pose for the picture, but I'm not leaving the house except to walk with Cole.