Saddle Hunting

Saddle Hunting - Is This Latest Rage Justified?

Jump on social media these days, look up your favorite whitetail hunters and chances are you’re going to see a decent proportion of them hanging from a saddle at some point. Not all are converts, but as time goes on it seems more and more are being lured into the cult.

Justified? Who’s to say, but I’ll give it a try.

I too jumped on the saddle hunting train last year and managed to shoot my biggest whitetail buck to date. I won’t go as far as saying I owe it to saddle hunting, I owe it in great proportion to luck! But the more I look back on it, the more I think my style of hunting greatly matches up with the run and gun style that is offered up by the craze that is saddle hunting.

I’ll also be the first to say that it’s not for everybody. There are certainly situations where I’d want a standard lock on style deer stand. For some people it just doesn’t make sense to go this route. I’ll run you through where I thought it was helpful and where I think the more traditional stand would be more practical. 

Advantages of Saddle Hunting Vs. Tree Stand Hunting

Speedy Setup and Less Bulky

I’m a big fan of run and gun style of whitetail hunting because I hunt public land and never know how bad the deer have been pressured or if I’m going to find another hunter in “my” spot. There are so many variables at play when it comes to competing with the swarms of hunters that visit our public lands that you need to play it loose and be willing to adjust. Saddle hunting is a perfect way to accomplish that. You’re not lugging around a heavy stand through the woods. Likely you’ll be wearing your harness in and carrying a tiny platform in your pack along with some climbing stick. Stealthy and quiet and the setup and breakdown time seems to be way faster.

Last year I lucked out and drew a Missouri Breaks tag in Montana for elk. With it being a record breaking drought year, finding and sitting water was paramount. I was hiking a long way to do that and there was no way I was going to carry a tree stand that far. It was an absolute perfect situation for saddle hunting. I could hunt my way in like I typically would and when I got to the waterhole I could set up in a tree.

I can fit all my saddle hunting gear in my backpack for western hunts.

Trees Don’t Need to be as Straight or Thick 

I’ve set up tree stands in less than ideal spots because I couldn’t find a tree straight or thick enough to hang the dang thing on! This problem can be the difference between success and failure when you can’t get to the spot you know a buck is likely to be.

Saddle hunting won’t completely solve this problem for you, but it is a step in the right direction. With the standard deer stand needing two attachment points that space fairly far apart, a somewhat straight tree is needed to safely hang them. Saddle hunting platforms have much shorter attachment points allowing for more variation in the tree. 

So when I’m out scouting an area and I see the trees look like something out of a Dr. Seuss book, I know I’ll be hanging from a saddle in that particular area.

Gives You More Shooting Options

Hunting from a saddle gives you more directions to shoot when compared to a tree stand. In a standard tree stand you are often limited by the tree you’re attached to. This isn’t always a problem if you know the area the deer will be moving, but if you know Murphy as well as I do, there’s going to be one sneaking in the way you least expect it.

Hanging from a saddle in the right setup can give you 360 degrees of shooting. Now of course lanes need to be cut and all the other necessary adjustments need to be made to make this a possibility, but it is possible. 

Disadvantages of Saddle Hunting Vs. Tree Stand Hunting

You’re now a convert! You’re on Craigslist as you read this selling all of your tree stands and praying to the god of saddle hunting to accept you into the cult. Not so fast (unless you got a screaming good deal on that almost new tree stand, then send me the link)!

With the good, usually comes the bad. Here’s what I found to be some disadvantages to saddle hunting and in some cases when I refuse to use them.

Comfort

I’ve read it all and watched it all on “how to make saddle hunting as comfortable as tree stand hunting”. Propaganda.

There are ways of making it less uncomfortable, but you’ll never turn a bar stool into a recliner. I’ve fallen asleep in some of my deer stands, let me assure you, I’ve never done that in a saddle (maybe that should go in the advantages section?).

If I’m in an area that year after year has produced dependable movement on nearby trails and trees allow it, you can bet I’ll be hanging a tree stand for long sits. 

You Need to Practice

That should go without saying, you need to practice from the ground, from a tree stand or any given scenario. But you REALLY need to practice shooting out of a saddle before you hit the woods. I almost lost that “biggest to date” deer I spoke of earlier because I didn’t practice enough from the saddle and made less than an ideal shot because of it.

My home setup to practice shooting from my saddle.

You’re hanging from a rope up there. That gives you the versatility of movement but it also gives you less stability when it comes to the shot. This rope is also in front of you as opposed to behind you like the safety line from your harness on a tree stand. You will need to learn how to shoot to your left, right, behind you and all that with your feet in less than ideal positions.

Your anchor point can easily change if you aren’t disciplined enough to be aware of it, so practice before getting into the field!

Tendency To Move Around

Whether it be from adjusting your position to get more comfortable or the fact that you’re hanging from a pivot point that is the rope you're tied to, you tend to move around more in the tree in a saddle. This can be solved by being cognizant of the situation, but discipline is needed to keep your movements to a minimum.

Saddle Hunting Gear

If you decide it’s right for you, saddle hunting can be a great piece of gear in your hunting arsenal. There are a lot of situations that I feel it’s invaluable. So what will you need to build out your kit? Here are some of the essentials. A lot of what you have from your tree stand gear can be used out there as well.

Saddle

Who would have thought that you might need a saddle when saddle hunting. Could you use your safety harness that you use for your stand? No, not really. You will be hanging from the harness so the attachment point will be different. Besides that important fact, saddles are meant to be hung from for hours and because of this fact they make them in a way to disperse your weight. 

Look online and find some options and reviews. I personally use a Tethrd Phantom. It’s been bombproof so far.

Saddle Hunting Platform

You can go without one and stand on the top rung of your climbing sticks, but boy, you’re more of a man than I. A nice small platform gives you stability and a way to take weight off of your harness. There’s standard platforms that look like a mini stand all the way to ones that have little platforms that wrap around the tree, giving you more options to move around.

I use a small platform that allows me to stand on it like a tree stand but is small enough to fit in my whitetail pack.

Climbing Sticks

You may already have these from your tree stand kit. If so, repurpose. No need to buy what you already own. I’m a huge fan of the speed and safety climbing sticks offer over the old school screw in pegs. Plus some public areas won’t allow you to use the screw in type to prevent damage to trees.

Saddle Hunting Accessories

Some other gear to think about. Some of these you may already have from your tree stand gear. All the better.

Lineman Belt - You likely have this from your stand gear. Safety first!

Tree Tether - Your safety tether from your stand gear could work here. Use this to anchor yourself to the tree.

Ascender or Prusik Cord with Carabiner - this is how you're going to attach your harness to the tree tether.

Daisy Chain - Wrap it around the tree and it gives you a bunch of loops to hang your gear off of. 

Saddle Pouches - A great place to stash gear.

There’s the long of it. Is saddle hunting the end all be all answer? No, nothing will ever be because of all of the variables at play. I would say that I use it more these days than I do my tree stands however. If you’re down for trying something new, give it a go. If you’re old school and stuck in your ways, what are you doing on the internet?!

Hope this helps in some small way.

// Fred  Bohm

The Gypsy

“You’ve inherited my Gypsy blood,” I remember my father saying as I threw my climbing gear in a backpack and told him I was headed to Mexico to put up some first ascents on some towering limestone monoliths.

Potrero Chico

“You’re going to be both blessed and cursed by it. You will see the world and everything that God has meant for you to see, but you will also go through deep bouts of boredom when you sit still. Being sedentary will be the bane of your existence. Careful during those times of inactivity, you will cause problems for yourself and become your own source of unhappiness,” he warned. 

That was half a lifetime ago and the Oracle no longer wanders this world. That warning never left my thoughts, just like the bearer of them. 

He wasn’t guessing, he saw my future because after all I’m an iteration of him, as he was to his father. You like to think you become your own man, that you're different from those before you. The only true difference is the path you chose and how it delineates your course, the starting point is the same. 

I think back to this as I sit in a treestand in Kansas, swaying in the gale force winds like a human metronome. My family is tucked away in our Gypsy caravan, in its warm depths wondering why their patriarch chooses to freeze his ass off in hopes of killing a trophy. 

Sometimes I question the same thing, wondering if this is the best use of my life. It’s satisfying to me, but a convoluted passion that makes little impact on anything besides myself and my family. 

How big are our aims meant to be? What deems a wasted life? Is just being happy with how you spend your time enough?

More questions for the Oracle, if only he were there to answer.

I know everything is temporary, including the current view from my cedar fortress I have myself tucked away in. I’m a voyeur that will be moving on once my goal is accomplished. It will be time for change again soon, it’s the only guarantee we have in this life. 

I look forward to the next unknown, the next town, the next hunt. I look forward to showing my kids that it’s a big world and it’s experiences are not to be wasted. If they don’t already have the Gypsy blood in them, they’ll absorb it by osmosis. 

I think back to a few short months ago. We were rooted in Denver in a home that never felt like a home. It sheltered my family and I, but that’s about it. We had a solid group of friends, but that is something you didn’t lose with distance. 

The walls were closing in and I felt the air getting squeezed from my lungs. Monotony set in and I was getting complacent. Life was easy and that made it mundane. Familiarity was breeding boredom and I saw the energy being drained from me. Was this it? Repeat the daily cycle? Until what, death? 

This was a life based on fear. I knew I would regret not moving on, giving my kids the experiences they looked to me for. 

It couldn’t be. There was more out there and we were going to go find it. When life is too easy, it’s a good indicator that it’s time to split. 

And so we did. To live the life of gypsies. It was time to move on. 

There is no end to this story. It stays continuous until the air leaves my lungs and the dirt blankets me. Until I meet up with that Oracle and ask him if I did this right, or if I missed the bigger plan for me. 

// Fred Bohm

Eden Lost

I feel the creaking of my back as I shift my backpack from the truck’s tailgate to my shoulders. It’s been a long whitetail season of stagnating in a treestand, sipping coffee and noticing my muscles atrophy. I was due for a backcountry hunt in a bad way. I was also due to get out of the cold grasp of Colorado and find a place I can take my bow on a walk in short sleeves. 

As I grab my trekking poles and hear the beep of the truck locking, I mentally prepare myself for the six mile hike in. The elevation isn’t going to be the issue, but a loaded up pack with eight days of food and everything else I need (need is a funny word when it comes to the backcountry) to chase Coues deer and javelina with my bow might be.

I settle into a rhythm, falling into a trance from the consistency of my footfalls. I let the trees pass, welcoming the sight of each one and its difference from the last. The hours tick away and I’m content. The ache from my back reminds me how lucky I am. The pain is good, it keeps me in the present and helps me to enjoy being in the exact place I am.

As I pass by a bend in the path I walk into an old beat down corral. The fencing is sun worn with deep recesses like the skin of a Floridian that’s seen too much sun and years. It’s ramshackled appearance deceives the necessity for craftsmanship demanded of the day, yet no thing that man can create can outlast mother nature and her biggest advantage over us; time.

The sun is growing higher and I know I need to move on if I want to set up camp with the great glowing ball’s help.

Pushing through the sandy washes saps what little energy I have left. I’m ready for camp and I’m ready to canvas the nearby mountains, seeing what they offer up to chase.

I peek down at my phone’s map with increased rapidity the closer I get to my destination. This leads to the last mile feeling like the first five.

One final bend and my map indicates to me that I’m finally at the predetermined camping spot. Picking flat areas to camp often goes awry with e-scouting, but lucky for me this time it’s leveler than an RV campground.

The dull ache in my shoulders forces me to eject my backpack and I instantly feel gravity loosen its grip on me. As I unpack the discs in my spine decompress.

I stand up, a full inch taller, and look at the compound that will serve as basecamp for the next eight days. No Taj Mahal, but no slum either.

The week slides by like with me following my shadow from sunrise to sunset. The land seems oddly dead. There’s no companionship on the other side of my glass. The wind howling is my only reprieve from the silence and I turn to internal dialogue for entertainment.

I know I could move on, look for land that would produce, but I don’t. I stay in the stagnating desert mountains. The animals hold no sentiment to the land. They move where they will be most prosperous. I don’t. I’m locked in on the loneliness of the land and am absolutely content with it. 

Sometimes we need to sit. To breathe in what is offered to us. Continuously striving for success can be exhausting. Sometimes we just need to accept what is in front of us, good or bad.

My eight days are up. Time to go see what civilization has gotten itself into. I don’t see mushroom clouds so I figure there will still be a human race when I get out of here.

I numb my brain and set my feet into locomotion.

“Do you know yer trespassing?” I hear from behind me, pulling me out of my trance.

“I’ve been hiking through here for years. There’s always been an easement here, has that changed?” I ask.

I can see he has no ill will towards me. He looks like a decent enough guy so I decide not to add in that I just looked on Arizona’s Fish & Game website backing up what I had just claimed. No use throwing facts in a man’s face.

“Well there has been. We just bought the property this year. We decided we weren’t going to continue to allow public access. Just too much could go wrong allowing the public through the middle of our land”, he replies.

“I see.”

I can’t say as I blame him. A bummer yes, but I get it. By cutting out public access through his property he now has tens of thousands of acres behind him that essentially becomes his personal hunting grounds. 

“That’s a shame,” I continue, “I’ve been hunting back here for years. I’m going to miss the place.”

A look of understanding comes across his face. He takes a long pull of his black coffee and changes the subject.

“You see anything back there?” he asks.

“Well, yes and no. Not much for deer. Saw a little doe wandering about, but that’s about all. Saw some pretty land though. A little oasis back in there. I’ve never seen it as dry as it is though, kinda disturbing.”

“Yea, we’ve been saying the same thing here. We haven’t seen much at all, hell we couldn’t even find sheds laying about. They musta moved on to greener territory,” comes his answer.

Yea. Must have. 

“I reckon I should be doing the same,” I reply, “Enjoy that piece of earth behind you, that could be Eden back there.”

I move on, filled with nostalgia. Another place that I won’t ever set foot on again. The feeling is so permanent, like waking from a long sleep with a finger missing. You’ll long for it, but you’ll adapt. There’s really no other choice.

// Fred Bohm

Hunting the Big Island of Hawaii - How to Plan a DIY Hunt

The bow hunting and rifle season ends when you want it to end. It’s as simple as that. Some like the finality of closing day after a long season. Soon after they can rest, plan for the next fall and get after some of the chores we neglected during go time.

However there are those of us that absolutely loathe it. We can’t fathom not hunting for the next eight months. We pace, we get the nervous sweats, our spouses want to stick a sharpened pencil through our ear. To put it mildly, we’re a pain in the ass to be around in the offseason. No amount of e-scouting or shed hunting will cure us. Once you’ve tasted blood, the wine is just too thin.

Luckily there’s a cure for the obsessed. 

There are some states and countries that take pity on our poor souls. Places that let your drive and ambition determine how long you’ll spend in the field, not regulations. If there were a heaven on earth, these places would be it.

I’ve gone over how to take advantage of New Zealand’s amazing year-round hunting in previous blog articles. Here are some links in case you missed them:

DIY Bow Hunting New Zealand - Part 1: Pre-Plan an Unguided Hunt

DIY Bow Hunting in New Zealand - Part 2: Equipment List

DIY Hunting New Zealand - An American Bowhunter's Post Mortem

New Zealand can be a pretty committed hunt. How about we stay a little closer, a little cheaper and still in the good ‘ol US of A? 

Hawaii

Hula skirts, luaus and roasting pigs on a beach right? For us hunters, at least one of those is correct. Take the pig, add in some goat and a few sheep and now we’re talking. Hawaii has a long history of hunting. The origins of the animals you will be chasing is still debated, they were originally brought over to by either Captain Cook or the Polynesians before him. Either way they are now firmly planted in the Hawaiin culture and lucky for the rest of us they allow us outsiders to partake in their tradition.

The Big Island of Hawaii to Be More Specific

Almost all the Hawaiian Islands have hunting, but I will concentrate on the Big Island of Hawaii in the article. Why the Big Island you ask? This is a poor man’s guide to expanding your hunting season. It’s meant for those of us that prefer the DIY experience on a budget. This isn’t for those looking for a guide to show them how and where to hunt. This is public land, burning boot leather for the self-sufficient hunter that wants to get the most bang for their buck.

Here is a list of reasons I chose the Big Island:

1. Flights can be flying into Kona Airport.

2. Lodging is reasonable.

3. Car rentals can be obtained.

4. Tons of public land.

5. It doesn’t feel touristy.

If you’re a family man like myself, you can’t find a better option in Hawaii than the Big Island. We take the kids, rent a house and car for a month and have at it. Logistics are fairly simple. 

If you got a couple of buddies together that want in on the trip, it’s even cheaper. Splitting a house and car is the way to go. 

What You’ll Be Hunting

Feral sheep, goat and pig is the name of the game. Mouflon sheep can be found, but aren’t as plentiful and if you’re there during the right time of year, you can hunt turkey as well. They’re here and they’re in abundance. From what I hear the upland hunting is pretty awesome as well, you just need to hit the season right.

For those wanting to hone in their spot and stalk abilities, this is the place for you. Whereas you could spend a whole season chasing elk and only get one shot opportunity, this typically isn’t the case in Big Island. But don’t be fooled, it is still hunting and these animals still don’t like to have a pointy stick shot into them. They will run and they will hide. They certainly can be elusive at times. That being said, it isn’t a high country mule deer hunt either. You should see plenty of animals and get a few good shots in there once you get a feel for things.

For all the details on the hunting seasons and locations and where you’ll find specific species on the Big Island, you can check it out HERE.

Now although there is hunting year-round, you’ll need to know the when, what and how many you can kill in each individual public area. You can almost consider each area as a GMU. What you can hunt in each area can differ. Also, times you can hunt during the week will change from area to area. Some you can only hunt on weekends, some are 7 days a week. 

There are areas, like the Puuanahulu Game Management Area, that have OTC tags that are only good for certain times of the year. So although there is hunting year-round on the Big Island, this doesn’t hold true for all public land.

And speaking of public land, there is plenty of it. Here is what you’ll be working with.

You can find this map as well as more detailed maps of the individual hunting areas HERE.

OnxMaps also has all the public land overlayed on their app. At this point, if you’re not using OnxMaps, you probably should be.

What You Need to Do Before You Go

Like any other state, you’ll need a hunting license. The great part about Hawaii is that the license covers all big game hunting except for a few areas and species. Here’s the cost breakdown:

Non-Resident Hunting License: $105

Puuanahulu Game Management Area Non-Resident Sheep & Goat tags: $25/tag

Turkey Non-Resident tags: $20/tag

You will need to get a hunter education letter of exemption form before you can actually get your license. Fill it out online. Not a big deal.

Bring some hunter orange as well. Unless you’re hunting in an archery-only area, you’ll need to wear it.

Camping

Price: Camping: $18/night, Cabins $50-$90/night

Unfortunately, it’s almost non-existent. It’s not like the mainland where you can camp on pretty much all public land. All hope is not lost if this is the direction you want to go however. With a little planning ahead of time you can reserve one of the few camp spots on the island.

You can reserve sites HERE.

I’m trying a couple out on my upcoming trip. I’ll write individual blog articles on them so keep an eye out in the near future.

AirBnB

Price: $40 ish a night for a private room. $50 - $150 a night for an entire house. 

Controversial in Hawaii, but there are still plenty of homes available. They can book out fairly quickly, so plan on reserving them a few months out from your trip.

This is a good option if you plan on splitting it with a few friends. If you’re planning on an extended stay, this can be the cheapest way to go. A lot of hosts offer discounts for staying a week as well as a whole month. On the home we reserved for our 2020 stay, we received 37% off for staying the month. 

The Hilo side (east) of the island is typically cheaper for lodging. There’s also a hell of a lot more rain than the west coast. The Hilo side feels way less touristy, but still has all the amenities that you’ll need. 

Rental Car

Price: $25 - $100 per day

The pricing on this can be absurd. But it’s an island after all, so I guess the supply and demand model I learned back when I was picking boogers in grade school rears its ugly head. 

You can get away with a standard size car for most areas you can hunt. But for those of you that will want to dig in deep and get back in there, you’ll probably need a Jeep or something with high clearance. Most spots you can hike in from pavement, but some of the cooler spots require a little bit of offroading.

Besides your standard rental options, check out Turo. It’s like AirBnb for cars. The prices seem comparable to most rental companies, but like AirBnB, the owners often offer hefty discounts for one week or longer rentals.

What to Bring

Depending on how you’re going to be spending your nights will depend on whether you’ll need camping gear or not. Camping certainly adds a little to the complexity as you’ll need to bring a tent or hammock with a rain tarp, sleeping pad, sleeping bag or quilt and all the other things that you’ll typically need for camping. It’s more to bring on the flight, but it also is going to save you some cash.

Here’s a quick list of things you may not have thought about:

1. An old pair of boots - The lava rock that you’ll be hunting on can tear up a pair of boots faster than a belt sander. Don’t destroy your good backcountry boots hiking around here. Something with decent support is a must as trying to avoid twisting your ankle will be a daily challenge while hopping around the lava rock.

2. Warm clothing - Not something you might think while hunting a tropical island, but depending on where you decide to hunt, you could be hunting as high up as 10,000 feet. Some of the volcanos exceed 13,000 feet, so take it seriously.

3. Rain gear - Rainfall is highly dependent on what side of the island you’re hunting. The eastern side receives an average rainfall of 130 inches a year whereas the Kona side is closer to an average rainfall of 18 inches. So if you plan on hunting the eastern side to the middle of the island, expect to see some rain!

4. Hunter Orange - Unless you’re hunting an archery-only area, you’ll need to wear hunter orange. Even if hunting with a bow.

5. Snorkeling/Spearfishing gear - I mean, come on, you’re in Hawaii.

6. Backpack - These are big chunks of public land. There’s no issue spending a full day hunting without heading back to the car. Plan on long day hunts.

This should get you started on your path to broadening your hunting universe. There are options out there to make this a year-round sport, you just got to dig.

I’ll follow this blog up with a few stories while I spend the next month bowhunting in the Big Island of Hawaii. After that, I’ll do a post mortem and fill you in on all the things I forgot in this article and screwed up while on the trip. Stay tuned and follow along on the day by day adventures with me through my Instagram Stories → @fredbohm

// Fred Bohm

Luck - A Lesson in Hunting

“The harder I work, the luckier I get.”

— Samuel Goldwyn

“So tell me how it went down,” I ask.

Moments earlier I saw the telltale sign of a successful hunt, a man leaned over at work with blue latex gloves busily moving about. Right in the epicenter of where I made a long circumnavigation to where I had planned to meet up with a buck I had been chasing. 

“It was complete and total luck. I mean I walked over the ridge, saw him bed, walked up slowly from below and shot him,” comes the reply of a man standing over a mule deer I’m all too familiar with.

“How far was the shot?” I pry on.

“Thirty yards. He never got out of his bed. Hell, I think the arrow skipped off the ground and ricochet into him,” he answers.

Son of a bitch. I haven’t been able to get within 95 yards of the bastard and this guy pinballs one off the ground at spitting distance.

I’d been working this mesa on and off the last several days. I had got to know this particular buck quite well. We were quite intimate. I knew his quirks and he knew mine. He knew to hightail ass when he heard the now familiar clicking of my torn up ankle, I knew to look off in the distance for his does to find him laying about overlooking his harem.

Luck, huh? I want to believe you but I know it’s not completely true.

“Again, congratulations. That’s a damn fine buck. One any archer would be proud to wrap his hands around. I’m not so sure about that luck thing, however. Old bruisers like that don’t die by luck,” I say as we shake hands and I let him get to work. 

I start the long trek off the vista and back to camp for a cup of black soup. I need the caffeine and I need to regroup. Most of all I need to make sense of what just happened.

Luck.

I mumble that word over and over as I kick steps in the loose dirt that inhabits the descent. It’s something that I’ve been grappling with for a long time in its relation to hunting. I’ve always felt uneasy about that word. Notoriously a cop-out for failure and an ego-crushing recognition often owed for success. 

But after each and every kill’s postmortem, I would hurriedly skim over certain details not wanting to focus on the presence of luck. I knew it was part of the equation, I just didn’t know what proportion I owed to it.

I, like everyone else, want to believe that I have complete control over the outcome. Put in the time, put in the effort and eventually success will follow. That’s not luck, that’s determination.

So here’s a scenario. Two men hunt the same woods. For simplicity’s sake, we’ll say they are on the same skill level (that’s a far reach I know). One doesn’t kill in five days worth of effort, the other kills his first hour in. 

Luck?

Isn’t that really just rolling the dice, hoping for it to come up sevens? Roll enough and you’re damn sure to eventually come up a winner.

I ponder my own accomplishments in the field as I zig-zag my way down off the mesa. 

How many of my kills are owed to being at the right place at the right time? Blindly fumbling around the woods only to have some unsuspecting buck curious about the commotion and make the unfortunate accident of standing within range. 

Was it luck? Or was it the sheer magnitude of time I spent in the field to make the encounter inevitable? What part did skill have in it?

We like things in black and white. It’s either this way or that. We are Republicans or we’re Democrats. We root for this team or that team. There’s no middle ground, we are or we aren’t. Success is derived from skill or its complete luck. It helps our simple brains understand complex issues. It allows us to put things into categories, process that information and move on.

But there was cream in this coffee.

Hunting, however, is different. We aren’t dealing with constants. We are dealing with individual creatures that to some extent can think, reason (I’ll use that in loose terms) and sure as hell learn to stay away from danger. And just like humans, they all have different capacities in doing so. What’s more than that they are susceptible to good days and bad days just like the rest of us.

Hell, some days they are just off. Occasionally the oldest and wisest of bucks stumble around and fall into our laps, oblivious of the numerous mistakes we made.

In hunting, we don’t always get what we deserve. There is just plain old dumb luck.

So in my equation that my little brain has put together so far it goes something like this.

Luck + Time in the Field + Skill = Success. 

There’s never been any use harping on what we can’t control. Luck is luck. You have nothing to do with it so take it out of the equation. The only thing you can control is the amount of time spent in the field and your skill. Skill takes a long time to develop and can only come through the experience time in the field provides for you. So the one that looks like we have the most control over would be Time in the Field.

There it is. The more time you spend out there the better your chances are at success. I think I have just written down what could be the most obvious and well know way to achieve success in hunting. I hope I didn’t make you dumber for reading it.

However, I needed to come to this realization on my own. I’ve never been one to learn from others.

So maybe that quote I stole at the beginning of this little story should read more like: The more time I spend in the field, the luckier I get.

I guess I was just lucky enough to figure this equation out and be able to put it to use in future hunts... 

// Fred Bohm   

They Change You

They change you, or they fucking should.

Or maybe they only do if you were doing it wrong to begin with.

I look over at him and there’s not a care in the world. Just a little boy and his fishing pole and the only thing that matters is within an arm’s length. That’s his world. The there. The now.

No fucked up manifestos. No sides taken. Hell he doesn’t even know that at some point in his life he’s going to be expected to take a side. A loose term, it could be anything, but some time in the near future this world is going to expect him to be on one side of the fence or another.

But not right now. If there’s one thing I can squeeze out of all this chaos that surrounds me, it’s that. Make his world his immediate area. Or stand back and do nothing at all, because somehow it’s already that way with him. Don’t intervene for the sake of your own ego, his course is straight, let it play out.

He asks for help, somehow realizing that the plastic Disney Cars fishing pole with a plastic tire for a lure isn’t going to cut it in these gold medal trout waters.

Damnit. More slipping away.

I move over next to him and he sits on my knee as I show him how to cast. He tells me he wants to catch a small one because those are for little boys and the big ones are for daddies.

I don’t want to explain to him that most of the time daddies don’t catch anything at all. Most of the time we stand on the edge of the water looking at our own reflection questioning why it distorts us the way it does. Why it shows us something of ourselves that we didn’t know was there.

It merely reflects. We interpret.

I wonder what he sees in his reflection. Likely nothing. Likely he looks past it into the depths of the water to what he’s looking for. 

I look back at my reflection and then to him,  wondering if I’m the man I want him to be someday. 

I hear excitement in his voice. I awaken to the feeling of the erratic bending of the pole. 

The present calls me back from the future. The messenger is a three year old boy.

// Fred Bohm

Whitetail Hunting in South Dakota - A Lesson in Humiliation and Other Things

It must be a low gravity week.

I’m on my feet in a treestand, swaying with the pulverizing north winds that freezes snot to my face. Moments earlier I’d just released my fourth arrow of the trip. And moments earlier I sailed it high over the back of the fourth deer fortunate enough to be within my range.

“Welcome to Fred Bohm’s school of hunter education,” I mumble to the eight point buck as he heads for cover.

The sting of not knowing what I am doing wrong far outweighs the blast of the northerly winds. I just don’t get it. My brain is not making the connection. It’s not allowing me to rationalize what the error is.

Is it an equipment failure? Is my anchor point off? Has my form gone to shit or am I just getting frazzled.

There could be a litany of excuses, but they do me no good. To blame anything but myself is a way of protecting my ego and God knows I need less of that.

I ease back into the seat of the stand, trying to let the frustration seep from my body. But I know I’m fooling myself if I think it’ll go away.

This just isn’t fun.

You practice year round and base your life around bowhunting. You take it as seriously as anything ever taken in your life. Commitment wouldn’t begin to describe the obsession you have for this sport and come game time you choke. Four Pick-Sixes in a row and GM is making calls to get you traded.

What’s more is the heckling you know you’ll receive, people chomping at the bit, salivating at the opportunity to ridicule.

But perhaps you deserve it. I mean come on… four misses in a row?

I let the evening play out, damn well knowing the hunting gods don’t give fools a second opportunity to embarrass themselves. They’re too compassionate for that.

It’s just the way of it man. If you plan on having a long hunting career you better get used to this. Better yet learn to laugh at it and enjoy the humiliation as a character building experience. It’s going to be a long road and if you let something like this bother you. Hunting is going to eat you alive.

The air is a little less bitter as the day turns to evening. The sounds are peaceful enough and I forget that civilization is only a stone’s throw away.

A horde of sparrows clumped together looking for companionship in the desolate skies. They roar overhead. Alone they are silent passersby, but as a group they make the earth shake.

Why does this matter? Are you, Hazel and the kids going to starve if you don’t get a deer? If that were true you would have shot the first animal that walked by. This is a game. It’s as simple as that. It’s a game where the size of the animal you kill determines your pecking order in the tiny circle of friends and fellow hunters. You’re using these animals as social status.

I know it to be true but I don’t care. Hell, everything we do in life determines where we stand compared to the people next to us. It’s all a show for those willing to look in. One big dick swinging contest.

I willingly participate and know I will continue to do so. I know I’m not just out here for the full freezer. It would be a lie that would receive accolades on social media, but would also be complete bullshit that would make me feel like a phony.

I’m here for the challenge. I’m here to see if I can outwit or more likely out-patience an animal that eludes inept humans for a living. And its merit is based on is the size of its headgear.

I continue to hold my bow, enjoying the deep burn as the cold conducts through the aluminum riser and numbs my hand. Just me, my weapon and my thoughts. Nothing could be simpler and nothing could make what’s laid before me more clear.

It doesn’t matter what you kill. The license allows for the life of one deer, it’s up to me to determine which one. Play your game and the law won’t step in. Media will encourage it. Your ego will thank you for it. Excuses on unfilled tags will abound when you’re hunting giants. Everything is rigged to encourage your to participate.

You’re letting your philosophy, which to be honest is non-existent, on trophy hunting distract you from the real problem here. Incompetent shooting and what it is causes. Missed opportunity.

A spike makes his way cautiously down the trail. His head jerks erratically looking for danger or from the suggestions from the voices in his head. Hard to tell.

I eye him over my neck gaiter that’s pulled up to my eyes. A god looking down on a lesser, determining if he’ll make it through the clearing with his life. Or just as likely spooked by an arrow that skims his back given my recent track record.

Such power. Maybe it’s something we revel in because we know there is something looking down on us at the same moment, determining the same thing.

He walks by without as much as a twitch from my bow hand.

By now the night has dug itself in deep. Things that were once clear only become shadows and memories of what should be there.

I make no move to get up. My hunt isn’t over yet.

// Fred Bohm

Analog Elk Scouting in a Digital World - Why You Should Be Scouting

"Why do you spend so much time scouting for elk? You saw them last year, just go to that same spot?" These are often the remarks when another Instagram post goes up about an upcoming scouting trips or from friends who are headed out to BBQ for the weekend instead of the woods.

In my ears I hear, "Why try at all?"

Elk hunting is so much more to me then the days I actually have my bow in hand. It starts months before that day and in all actuality probably never ends.

There’s two ways to hunt in my eyes. Full on or half assed. There is no in between. Either you want it or you just want to be able to talk about it.

This is why I spend my free time schlepping a forty pound backpack around the wild lands of Colorado and whatever other states will let me chase their four-legged creatures. If
I’m going to do something, I’m going into it pedal to the metal with the brake lines cut.

So is scouting absolutely necessary? To me the answer is obvious, a resounding YES!

But the reasoning may not be as obvious as you might think. As with many things in life, it’s not always what you seek that ends up being the real treasure. Sometimes it’s the unseen benefits that are the true rewards to your effort.

Here are some of the reasons you need to be out there wandering the mountains and honing your skills.

You’ll Find Where the Animals Call Home

Well this one is obvious isn’t it? But hell, this is the main reason we’re out there to begin with. All that pre-scouting sitting behind your computer needs to be put to the test. It’s one thing to pour over maps online, it’s another to commit to planting yourself there on opening day.

In a world where we can scout from the comforts of our own home (why lie, I mean office) we’re becoming extremely dependent on technology to solve all our problems. It’s got its place and can give you a strong starting point as to where to begin scouting, but it’s a far cry from the real thing.

I can’t tell you how many times I thought I’d be busting the next elk kegger the upcoming weekend while cruising the maps on my computer only to walk into an elk ghost town with binoculars in hand and wobbly legs from the hike in. The translation from computer screen to real life is sometimes awfully disappointing.  

So if you’re going to be lazy, expect a lazy man’s results. And “But Elk-Killa_69 from huntinglocations.com told me that it was a hotspot!” is not an excuse. It is however a direct indication to your laziness.

Get out there and see what’s producing. Then wear the buttons out on your GPS unit/phone app by placing waypoints on all pertinent information.

• Where are the cows bedding and feeding?
• Where are water sources?
• Look for escape routes like saddles and pinch points where you can set up ambushes
• Mark all wallows you come across
• Camping areas that give you a vantage point yet won’t disturb the elk
• Rub lines
• Heavily used trails

Learning Animal Behavior

You get to see first hand how these animals act in their natural environment before the camo invaders lays siege to the land. Though it is probably more important to know how they are going to act under pressure because that’s when you’ll be hunting them, it’s also invaluable to know what their natural patterns are.

Animals (including us) like routine. It makes them feel safe. They will stick to these patterns until it is absolutely necessary to deviate due to pressure. By learning when and how they like to move you’re setting yourself up for success. Even if you’re not learning the exact patterns, you’re learning how the animals like to behave in general, which could be just the information needed when you’re setting up an ambush in a few months.

Understanding How You’ll Perform Mentally and Physically in the Backcountry

I’ll preach this one all the way to my deathbed. You need to know how you’re going to perform when you’re in the backcountry. Whether that be alone or with a hunting partner this is a great time to see how you’ll perform when you’re alone or if it’s time to ditch that partner who whines every time the angle gets steeper than a parking lot.

If you’re used to the backcountry, then skip ahead as this will be preaching to the choir.

But if you’re new to this game, this little bit of advice can mean the difference of staying in and getting the job done, or tucking your tail between your legs and generating a litany of excuses as to why you bailed early.

Scouting season is your test period. Your bootcamp so to speak. You’re going to learn a lot about yourself during this time. You’re far away from the modern world and all the conveniences that comes along with it.

And it’s quiet. So very quiet.

Some love it. Some hate it. We’ve become so used to the flashing lights, honking horns and constant grab for our attention in today’s world. Not so here. Nobody is trying to sell you anything, nobody is liking your latest witty meme on Instagram and to be honest, nothing really cares about you out here. You just exist.

It may sound like paradise. But when you’re actually in it, it’s all consuming and it can freak some people out. This is the time to figure out if it does and also the time to find out how to combat it.

I’ve written an article on this previously that pinpoints all of these issues so I won’t be redundant here. I’ve attach a link so you can have a read.

Solo Backcountry Hunter

Test Equipment

You just spent all that hard earned coin on a backpack, tent, boots and solar powered speaker loaded up with all your favorite Justin Bieber hits right?

Well what if that backpack digs bloody holes in your back, the tent leaks like an Iraqi submarine, your filp-flops offer more support than the $350 pair of boots you were marketed into and you realize how bad Justin Bieber sucks and now you’re stuck with him on repeat?

If you’re committed to a nine day backcountry hunt you might just be walking out six hours later. Now you have to explain to your wife and friends why you couldn’t man up and make it happen.

The scouting trips are here to help you keep your man card. Two day tests of your equipment is the perfect time to suss out the winners from the losers.

If the tent sucks sell it and get something you can live with. Boots are a fickle creature, so the review you read on them being “the second best thing that has ever touched my feet” might be fine for the guy who wrote it, but then again he might have webbed feet that can handle wide boots.

You see where I’m going with this. Test everything before you decide to take it in for the real deal. You’re getting a trial run here, take advantage of it. I’d test everything if I were you, but here’s a short list of absolutes you must tests before committing:

• Boots
• Tent
• Water filtration
• Clothing
• GPS and/or map app for phone
• Power supply for electronics (I know, I know. But I’m a realist. We all use them)
• Optics
• Backpack
• Food (this one is extremely important to test or you may need to double your TP)

Technology Has A Place

Love it or hate it, but it’s a part of all of us. There will be those that resist and that’s fine. Each his own. But I can honestly say I haven’t come across a hunter that didn’t have some form of technology on him.

And there is no denying it. It can be an extremely beneficial part of our scouting. Lets go over a few of them and how we can use them to our advantage.

GPS

Besides the obvious of keeping you pointed in the right direction, GPS unit or map apps for your phone have crazy benefits.

Coming back to a tent in the dark after a long day of hunting or scouting can feel like trying to finding my kid’s toy he decided to leave on a shelf at the grocery store. It may require grid searching and/or calling in the Navy SEALS for assistance. Drop a pin on the tent and this never again becomes an issue.

When firing up my GPS and having a look at the GMU’s I hunt you might think you were looking at Yelp map. There are pins all over it. I mark everything. Water holes, wallows, saddles, springs, bedding areas, good feed, rubs and the list goes on.

I know my memory is extremely poor if altogether non-existent. I don’t depend on it to remind me where that wallow is that I should be sitting on if the mid-day temps start to rise.

Use this technology while scouting and you’ll rarely have the “what should we do today?” issues when hunting.

Game Cameras

Those whitetail guys where on to something when they starting using these little gadgets. Though you will be committing to a lot more when taking them into the backcountry with you. First there’s the weight issue. Also if you end up setting some up, you best be committed to hunting that spot or you’ll be making an unplanned hike in to retrieve them.

The information they give you however can be invaluable. You can potentially pattern their movements by finding high concentration areas along with times they like to use that location.

Know that and you got a good chance of putting one in the dirt.

Communication With Family

I’ve got kids and I spend a lot of time in the mountains. This one is not an option. I use a sat phone or my Garmin InReach to be able to communicate with the family.

This is a small concession to make if it means being able to live this lifestyle or not. Besides, I miss my kids’ voices and I want them to be a part of the experience even if it’s in a small way.  

Give Yourself Some Time Off From the Hectic World

Remember one of the reasons your out here to begin with. To unplug.

There are those of us that still contain the urge to interact with our natural environment. Not the one that we created but rather the one created for us.

The more time you spend in it the more that primal urge feels natural coursing through you. We become closer to the animals we walk with and we refine the instincts that once was required to keep us alive.

Not all are privileged enough to do what you do and have the urge to do it. We are the last of our kind. The instinct that still courses through us is what got the human race to the place it currently resides. Without it we would have been part of the 95% of creatures that are on the extinction list.

Scouting is just an excuse to spend more time doing what has been done for hundreds of thousands of years before us. Be human.

So enjoy. Feel alive. And stay safe!

// Fred Bohm

The Cousin of Death - New Zealand Tahr Hunting

You take the pain because you ask for it. You love it because others don’t. Complacency and lethargy is the cousins of death, the searing burn that comes from the effort is your muscles telling you, we are still here, we are still fighting the good fight, if only for a little longer.

Stop looking up, keep your head down and eat the pieces of the elephant, don’t try to jam the whole thing in your mouth.

My toe kicks another step into the soft scree, initiating a mini avalanche, sounding like a million gold coins sliding down a dragon’s hoard.

One step up, slide a half step back. The metaphor isn’t subtle at that moment, rather it slugs me over the head like a baseball bat. It’s no different than my life’s path. The mountains tell the truth, or I’ll adjust my perception to make it so.

Eighteen hundred hard earned vertical feet lays below me. And the mountains still tower over, offering up her treasure if I have the will to overpower her. The barrier to entry is high in her game.

But her skin was brittle, peeling away with little more than the weight of a human being.

It’s like wading your way into a storming ocean surf. Your advance constantly being halted by mother nature’s commitment barometer. She’ll let you pass, but not before she knows you really want it.

The real kick in the crotch is that you willingly did this less than ten hours previous. And now you’re back at it. Repeating the motions, but weaponless this time to save weight… After all the deed has already been done. Now all you need to do is finish the job. The easy part is to think back to how you got yourself here, the harder part is completing the task without the adrenaline infusion of the chase.

Three shots rang out. The first followed by the chaos of a known miss. Reload, frantically try to relocate, a smooth pull of the trigger and the reward of a cantaloupe thump from a hit. He’s now walking, not running. A good sign.

A smoking cartridge cartwheels through the air to make room for another. I wonder if these brass bottlenecks know the importance of their existence and how easily they can end one life to sustain another.

One more punch to my shoulder followed by that sweet sound. He stumbles off to be swallowed by the mountain.

That was then, this is now.

Toe in and hope this sucker doesn’t slide burying me in a rock tomb. Go for the finger of rock protruding out of the gums of the mountain like the shattered teeth from an unfortunate recipient of a kick to the face.

The walking gets easier if not more dangerous with the semi-solid rock. It doesn’t slide on you, but if it decides to shed a layer it’s taking you with it in no uncertain terms.

I make it to the spot where one life form was irrevocably changed forever. The spot where with a simple pull of a trigger you would be absorbing one life into your own. I find it odd at that moment that I find the importance of my own existence more important than his. It’s a fleeting thought, as I know self preservation is at the core of every living thing. I’m no different. My life is more important than his and that’s just the way of it.

Not much time is spent on looking for where his body betrayed him and leaked out his life through a penny sized hole.

I know his trajectory well and know the spot where he spent the night alone with his last few breaths wasn’t far away.

Leveling off my ascent, I adjust my altitude and follow the contours of the the mountain. Series of short bursts are used navigate over the scree, looking similar to a boy trying to cross a river without getting his shoes wet.

I peer down the gut of two tentacles of jagged outcrops.

Nothing. Must be the next one.

Another burst of speed to cross the landslide zone and to the relative safety of the next outcrop.

He’s got to be here.

And he is. The grey monotony of of rock is broken up by a thick patch of waving brown hair, alive from the wind, but what lies beneath certainly is not.

I heel into the rock and work my way down to him, taken back by the sheer mass of the piled up animal. A tank of a creature with four short legs to power it through the mountains.

I look out over what his last view must have been. I wouldn’t complain in the afterlife if this was the last thing I saw before I took the plunge.

My camera comes out of my pack to record this short portion of my life. I like to capture the truth of what really happened, not what my ever lessening memory decides to make of it over time.

It’s beautiful, surreal and terrifying. The first two make sense to most people, the last often needs explanation. This exact moment, this exact thing I am doing right now is why I was put on this earth. And to know that one day I will no longer be able to do this whether from dissolving health or unseen circumstances drives deep into me.

The camera snaps a few photos, guaranteeing I can look back to this as it happened.

I sit for a moment and tell myself to soak it in as this may be the last time you ever see this place on earth.

But duty calls and the animal that I killed needs to be broken down.

The camera goes in its case and the knife comes out of his.

I unfold the blade, check its sharpness and stand over the tahr as I make a long slit up his stomach.

Thunk.

Oh shit.

My eyes immediately move to the empty spot where my camera had sat moments before.

No no no no nonono.

I stop myself short from launching off the small cliff I’m standing on. A small black case no less round than a bowling ball picks up momentum and uses it to free itself from the constraints of gravity.

Stay in the case. Please stay in the case.

By now the speed has added significant vertical lift to each bounce.

The camera is obviously smashed to bits as if it were a bag of ice being broken apart by repeated poundings on the ground… but maybe it will hold stay in the case and a least give you back the SD card.

The SD card. The DNA of this trip. It holds all the memories of three weeks packed into a lifetime in its thumbnail sized existence.

Hold together.

The mountains aren’t listening or at least they aren’t taking requests at the moment.

The bag bursts. The contents within race in opposite directions as if they were magnets repelling one another.

My eyes looks for the body that holds almost all visual information from my entire trip to New Zealand. But it is useless. The whole ensemble is now nearly a thousand feet below me in a shredded mess.

My heart sinks.

The cycle is complete. The physical pain is now complemented by the mental anguish.

You’re alive, you have the experience, but damn it, this sucks...

// Fred Bohm
 

DIY Bow Hunting New Zealand - Part 1: Pre-Plan an Unguided Hunt

Making the leap into the unknown. Traveling for the sake of experiencing something new and with the intent of purposely changing one’s perspective. Easier to do today than ever because of technology, but still there is that residue of instinct in us to remain in one place, to stay where we are comfortable and where we know what dangers are nearby. Better to know the devil you know than the devil you don’t.

I decided I wanted to shake hands with the devil I’ve never met by bowhunting the Southern Alps of New Zealand. Now granted, it’s not like I’m exploring some unknown region in Papua New Guinea with the potential of getting my head shrunk by the local tribesman, but it sure as hell does involve a bit more legistics than tossing my bow in the truck, grabbing food on the way and jumping over to the next state for a hunt.

So I did what any smart person would do. I bought the plane tickets first before making much of a plan at all. Commitment. That’s the hardest part, the rest you’ll figure out along the way.

OK, now I know what country I’ll be hunting in, but now what? That’s about as useful as saying, “I’m going to hunt the United States.” Yea great slick, there happens to be millions of acres you can wander through but you might want to narrow it down a bit.

What species? Are you looking to chase the infamous red stag, fallow deer or how about tahr? High or low elevation? Backpack or truck hunting? Bow or firearm? What time of year is best? What gear are you going to need? What’s the permit system entail?

The questions are endless. It’s not hard to fall into “paralysis by analysis” when trying to plan a trip out of the country. Try to answer all of these at once you’re just as likely to get a case of the “fuck its” and giving up on the trip all together.

I’ll try to break it down as simple as possible in a three part series, giving you the info I come across as I find it. This one will cover the pre-planning it will take to make the trip a success, however you define it. I’ll also do one on the gear I’ll be taking as well as a post mortem when I return so you can learn from my mistakes.

This isn’t meant for the guys headed over to New Zealand on a fully guided hunt, chasing monster stags behind high fences. If that’s your deal, good for you, you’ll find resources on plenty of guide’s pages. This is for the DIY hunter trying to do this on a budget.

Here are the things I’m working through/have worked through to get this hunt off the ground.

When to Hunt New Zealand

This will depend on what you plan to hunt and the assumption that you’ll be trying to catch the rut. Know that there are other times you may want to hunt New Zealand, but this will cover the rut. Remember their fall is our spring, so a good time to go will be sometime in March through June. Here’s a breakdown on rut activity according to species.

• Chamois: May and June

• Tahr: May and June

• Fallow Deer: April to mid-May

• Red Deer: Late March through April

• Rusa Deer: July to August

• Sika Deer: Late March to early May

• Wapiti: Mid-March to late April

Buy Plane Tickets

I didn’t do this way in advance, just two months before leaving. A huge help for me was Google Flights. If you’re a bit flexible with timing this site can help you get the best deals on plane tickets around.

Car Rental

It’s actually easy to set up a car rental. Any online service you typically use (Expedia, Orbitz, etc.) can get you set up. The prices seem comparable to the USA. Careful though, apparently they still use lances or swords over there, because these guys drive on the left hand side of the road (that’ll give you something to Google while you’re bored at work).

Find Where You’re Going to Hunt in New Zealand

This one was a bit trickier. Here’s some ideas:

• New Zealand DOC: Great resource that gives you all the public land available (which is substantial. They even go as far as letting you enter the species you want to hunt and then recommending spots to hunt. A great starting point.

• New Zealand DOC Map of Public Land:

• Local Advice: Local advice is the best advice. Here’s the rub, who the hell wants to tell you their favorite spots to hunt. This is where you need to be willing to part with some of your own. Nothing in life is free, and this certainly applies to good hunting locations. I talked with people on forums who were visiting the USA to hunt. I advised them on areas I knew well and they reciprocated. Here’s where the Golden Rule comes in. Don’t be a dick. Make sure you hold up your end of the bargain when the time comes.

Permits and Flying with Weapons

• Since you’re bowhunting life is a lot easier. No firearms permits are needed. Safely pack your bow and you’ll be set.
• If you are hunting with a firearm there is some great information from Big Game Hunting Adventures here.

• New Zealand DOC Permit: It’s free, but you’ll need to carry one on you while hunting. These permits are for open hunting areas. Note: there are restricted hunting areas (much like our limited entry hunts) that you’ll need to apply for in our fall time if you want to hunt those areas.

Passport

Probably don’t need to explain this one, but I’ve had trips delayed because I was a knucklehead and forgot my passport expired.

A preview as to what will be in the next segment. Gear, gear and more gear. This will be an extensive list that will be considered carefully. You only get so much weight when flying and you’ll want to be mobile when you’re there. I’ll break down all the gear I will be taking, how I pack it and why I’m taking what I’m taking. Look for it in the near future. Sign up to my Newsletter to get it sent straight to your mailbox.

// Fred Bohm

Backcountry Hunting - The Art of Being Uncomfortable

“Will you meet with him?” an old buddy from my former life as a motion designer asked over the phone.

“We don’t have to hold hands or kiss afterwards do we?” I replied back sarcastically. I felt like he was trying to set me up on a date. I wonder if he knows I’m married (to a woman) with kids.

“He just wants to talk bow hunting. He’s new to it and the lack of success has him frustrated. I’ve seen your pics, you’ve caught stuff. He just wants a little help,” came his reply.

Being that my old friend was in the advertising industry, you’d think he knew what editing and “selective” visuals were. My kill to days in the field ratio was outright embarrassing. Not every model you see on Instagram looks like that when they wake up you know… selective freaking editing.

“Yea sure,” came my reluctant reply. Being he was a friend and having a soft spot for those in the struggle, I agreed to meet up.

I sat at the a local brewery sipping the latest hops infused concoction. Another mediocre beer in the sea of the mediocre brewery craze. Just add more hops than the next guy and you deserve a gold medal these days.

“Fred?” I heard over my shoulder.

I turned on my stool to what I took to be a skinny-jeaned lumberjack straight out of the Pacific Northwest. All the trimmings of one at least. My eyes instinctively go to his hands. Those hands never held a tool in their life. Great.

I spent a short stint in Brooklyn (Williamsburg to make matters worse) some years back for work. What I learned was to be a woodsman you need to drink PBR, wear flannel, carry a hatchet on your hip and to NOT spend a single moment in the dirty, scary, disgusting woods. Deep in the heart of the city is where lumberjacks are born.

“Heeeeyy,” came my drawn out response. I knew I was in for it.

After five minutes of the typical pleasantries, I felt the need to get on with it.

“So backcountry bowhunting? How’d you do last year?” I asked. I wanted to see what I was working with.

The floodgates opened. If felt half psychiatrist, half high school adviser.

After the typical excuses as to why he didn’t see anything came the pleas as to how to make the hunt more comfortable and enjoyable. Not successful mind you, but more comfortable. Interesting.

I had three choices.

1. Lie to him and tell him it gets better.
2. Get blackout drunk and hope through my inebriation and therefor slurring of words he would slink away from the conversation and head back to his logging camp.
3. Bluntly tell him the truth.

I pushed my beer away and opted for a combination of one and two.

A summarization was in order to make sure I got it right.

“OK. So you don’t like being cold or dirty? You’re terrified of bears? You don’t particularly like hiking? You rank sleeping in as high on your priority list?” I asked. “Why do you want to hunt again?”

I tried but failed miserably to keep the amusement out of my voice.

“Everybody says it’s the healthiest, cleanest meat out there,” came his reply.

Oh wow. A lumberjack and a Crossfitter.

“And working out is the best way to stay thin, but liposuction is always an option.” I muttered under my breath.

“Huh?” came his response, leaning in as he obviously didn’t catch what I was saying.

“Nothing,” I quickly tried to recover.

I went on to tell him that all the things he hates about backcountry hunting is the precise thing that us backcountry hunters love about it. We embrace the suck.

“So is it hopeless?” He asked. “Should I just give up on it?”

“That’s up to you my friend. It depends what you want out of it. Are you using it for a growing experience? Essentially are you using it to find something out about yourself and better yourself as a human or do you just want the clean meat and the ability to say you’re a backcountry hunter?” I responded honestly. “Do you want to be uncomfortable for the sake of making the your everyday existence more comfortable?”

Now I know this was an extreme case. But it did give me the opportunity to sit back and reflect on what we’re doing out there. Acquiring meat, right? Horseshit. There are WAY easier ways of getting clean, healthy meat. For one, spend less time hunting and more working your job in order to be able to afford Whole Foods obscene prices for organic, grass fed animals.

Those of us in it know it’s so much more than that.

We make the situation harder than it needs to be in order to test our mettle. We do un-ordinary things to make the ordinary more bearable.

That might be the why, but how about the how?

There are many things that contribute to the success of a hunt. Let’s throw luck out the window, as it is something that we can’t plan for and can’t work at to acquire more of it (spare me your “Luck is when opportunity meets preparation.” speech in the comments section. I get it. I use other people’s quotes all the time to feel clever as well).

I won’t beat training into the ground. There are more marathon hunters in the backcountry then there are hunter hunters in the backcountry these days. Believe me I know, that’s typically the first thing they are quick to tell me.

So, what’s left? Hunting skill? Sure, but before we can get to that we need to stay in more than a day to acquire it. Let’s talk about how to do that.

How to Stay in the Backcountry

Wow that title sounds stupid. I might as well have named it “How to Breath and the Advantages of Doing So”.

Sounds simple, however I would bet it is the single biggest factor as to why people aren’t successful in the deep. I wrote an article a few years back about it that still applies today → Solo Backcountry Hunter

Instead of regurgitating previous information, I’ll instead try to be useful and talk about one of the specifics in there and what I have spent a lengthy amount of time with this introduction to get at.

Here’s the summary in one sentence: You need to be ok with being uncomfortable to be ok with being a backcountry hunter.

At first being ok with it will work. But to eventually embrace and really enjoy it, you need to be more than ok with it, you need to look forward to it.

Humans love comfort. Look back since the beginning of time. Besides just trying to survive in a world that was trying to kill us, what were we doing? Trying to get comfortable. We made fire to stay warm. We made weapons to make acquiring food easier. We created modern houses with heat, running water and soft beds to get comfortable. Nine to five jobs? To comfort us into thinking our futures are secure. Watching television? To distract us long enough with other people’s problems so we don’t have to think and fix our own. I can go on like this forever, but I won’t. Let’s just say that I firmly believe that most conveniences we have created is to allow us to be more comfortable.

When we volunteer to hike miles into the mountains and give up all the comforts that the modern day gives us (Well most, we still use tents, legit clothing and instant coffee. Come on, I’m not a total sadist.) we make a conscious decision to be uncomfortable. It’s part of the appeal. We give up the conveniences of the world as we know it for the TEMPORARY discomfort of a simpler, more primal existence.

And that big bold word in the previous sentence is the key to it all. The key to the art of being uncomfortable. The key to staying in the backcountry and the key to the city of success.

Much like life, it’s all temporary. Being cold, wet, sleep deprived, scared of critters, achy, lonely. Whatever is making you uncomfortable while in the backcountry is only temporary. Take comfort in that.

What isn’t temporary is giving up and the psychological effects it will have on you. That I promise sticks with you and defines you as a human.

Leverage this knowledge. Repeat “it’s only temporary” while you’re waiting out that mountain shaking lightning storm, the deep loneliness that you feel will last forever or the fear of the unknown.

Leverage that and walk out of the woods on that predetermined date with the knowledge that you’ve lived with discomfort and you could do it again. Hell, maybe next time even welcome it.

“I want to learn to be ok with being uncomfortable.” Came the unexpected reply. For a minute I almost forgot someone was sitting next to me.

Hazily I came back to it.

“Well you’re starting off on the right foot”, I exclaimed, “those tight jeans seem to be the perfect training tool.”

OK. Numbers 1 and 3 were covered, I gave him a little bit of truth as well as being blunt. Maybe I added a little of #2 in there as well for my own sanity.

// Fred Bohm

Arizona Mule Deer Hunt - The Tea Party

The tea was poured for my imaginary party. I had my pinky up in true form, pulling my first sip through tight lips to keep from burning my palette when I saw him out of the corner of my eye. My pity party was rudely interrupted by an uninvited guest. Well he was invited but his arrival couldn’t have come at a worse time.

Minutes earlier I plopped down on a rock in disgust with the morning. I wasn’t getting my way and I wanted everyone to know it. A few mulies had been seen, but nothing to my liking. The ailments of a first world hunter.

I looked down at my bow laying next to me warming itself like a cat in the mid morning sun. Passing up the four arrows perfectly lined up in my quiver, I reached down to the one laying on my rest and plucked it off the string.

“My fingers are filthy.” I murmured to myself. It was true, six days in the backcountry and every surface and crevice that wasn’t covered in clothing looked like it had taken a mud bath.

Ten minutes into my spa day and I had finished nine digits of my manicure. God damn I was looking fine.

As I dug into my last finger that’s when my guest decided to make his appearance. Now this honestly shouldn’t have come as a shock to me. For the previous six days I dreamed up vivid stories in my head how one day I was going to be that guy where sheer dumb luck was going to set a giant animal into my lap.

You know the story. Some dipshit in sweatpants and a Packers jacket that stumbled off his four wheeler half hammered draws his wife’s bow back and takes the state record… that sort of story, although perhaps less bitter. This was that day.

“Hello dipshit.” Came the voice of a well racked mule deer.

“You gotta be kidding me.” I don’t dare mumble as our eyes lock.

He had beelined it towards me on a path I must have missed during my sulking session. He didn’t pretend to know I wasn’t there, but he also didn’t know exactly what to do with me either. I mean he obviously had a rendezvous with some sweet little thing further down the trail and if I wasn’t going to make a move, well then he aimed to keep that appointment.

I kept telling myself not to move my eyeballs. Stay still and let him make the mistake. Well, that was part of my brain telling me to do that. The part that never wins.

The bigger part of my brain (maybe that should be read “smaller”) saw myself doing a forward roll, scooping up my bow, loading the arrow (oh, and finishing my manicure mid flight) and launching myself horizontally through the air as I drew back, blew a kiss to my endearing fans while my arrow split his heart in two.

What actually happened was none of the above. I tried to sit there still, but the deer didn’t need a sixth sense to know that I was up to no good.

He spun on his hooves and started his trot to the outskirts of the field.

“Well sitting here looking stupid isn’t gonna help the situation.” I coached myself as I reached for my bow and sunk the arrow into place.

I saw the arch he was on and had a good idea where he was going. If he stayed on the same trajectory he would be within shooting range in a few seconds.

I reached for my rangefinder and pre-ranged the spot I expected him to appear at. The grass was tall and made for a bit of a guess job as to where I actually had the crosshairs.

Sixty-seven yards. Doable if he did the typical mule deer thing and froze when he saw me again.

Just like I had hoped for. He crossed the aforementioned spot, slammed on the brakes and looked over at me. He froze like he was looking at Medusa herself.

Bingo.

I slowly dialed my sight in. Sixty seven on the dot.

My shot sequence went off without me knowing it. The pin was centered.

“Squeeze your back man. Pull through the shot.” I thought, trying to keep that rack out of my peripheral.

My draw arm flew back indicating that the shot was off.

I watched through my housing as the arrow increased its revolution, screaming towards the course I sent it on.

Crack!

“That didn’t sound good.” I mumble to myself as I watched the mule deer high-tailing ass out of the country.

I looked at my bow as if demanding an explanation.

“What gives?” I ask it, feeling betrayed. I was dead on and rock solid on the shot, this I knew, but the arrow sailed over his back.

With no response forthcoming, I got up and walked over to where the buck had been standing only moments before.

Turning around and ranging my backpack which was making my shooting location and this genius had the mystery of the century solved.

“Fifty four yards you say?” I said as I shook the rangefinder, figuring this would fix whatever was wrong with it.

I re-range it, with the growing fear of my stupidity.

“Yup, it’s official, you’re dumb.” Is all I could say to comfort myself.

After collecting my arrow that was a perfect 10-ring in a tree, I walked over and grabbed my gear.

I looked at my watch.

“Shit, your late for your next tea party.” I said as I walk off to find another place to sulk.

// Fred Bohm

 

We Are Killers

“It’s not in what you say anymore, is it? It’s all in how you say it.”

— Mr. Parker, Way of the Gun

Harvest… Used by hunters, this word has bothered me from the first time I heard it, but I never took the time to really consider why.

“Hey Fred, did you harvest a deer this year?”

“Uhh… Fuck no. My deer combine was broken down. So I went out there with my bow and killed one. Isn’t that what you’re asking? Did I kill a deer?”

I follow Cam Hanes. What can I say? The guy is a beast and he inspires others (me included) to be a better person. Occasionally some anti-hunter antagonizes him on social media. Cam posts the negative comments aimed at hunters for his followers to see. Then the legions come to his war cry and unleash hell on the thoughtless soul that thought they could make hunters guilty for what we are.

We are killers.

The comments pour out, sometimes filled with hate and malice from hunters that are having a bad day, some are thoughtful and try to help the individual understand our side. But one topic is universally brought up.

“Do you eat meat? Do you have a pet that does? Do you wear products produced by animals?”

All valid questions. The answer is often that they in fact do eat meat or have a pet that does, but they aren’t murdering innocent animals like us neanderthals.

I hear your chuckles now. A ludicrous response that we all know is all so prevalent due to the distancing the packaging provides and the fact they never see the blood they are paying for.

This isn’t some new revelation, I think it’s been beaten into the ground by now. They hide behind their cash and plead innocence.

But we can’t say that the pressure isn’t working. They are changing the way we speak and therefore how we act. Semantics right?

We tone it down in hopes of slipping by the opposition unnoticed. We’re not killing anything after all, just merely harvesting them. As if you water them a little, hose it down with pesticides and wait for the sun to do its job. Bam! up sprouts a perfect elk backstrap.

If it were only that easy. We who still have that primal urge know what it takes to fill that freezer. We know what actions are necessary. We know exactly what we are doing and we know something has to die to make that something happen.

By hiding behind tamed words we are unknowingly admitting that what we are doing is wrong. We are admitting that we feel so guilty that we are not even able to say and therefore admit what we are really doing.

Don’t call it what it really is, but instead compare it to how we secure our vegetables. The lie is just more digestible. If we don’t call it killing then they can look the other way right? We cannot feel guilty about what they tell us we should feel guilty for.

Well I’m a killer. I don’t pay others to do it for me and I’m not going to dull it down to make it easy for those who enlist mercenaries to do it for them. When I hear the death cries of an elk or deer I know what I’ve done and I don’t always like it.

There is a certain weight that killing another being carries and I am fully aware of it. I respect it, I know that it was my decision to make and I made it. This animal is not my enemy, it did nothing to deserve what I did to it, but I knowingly took its life to feed mine. And most of all, it deserves the respect of me knowing what I did to it. They mean to much to me not too.

I know what I am, I’m a killer.

// Fred Bohm

What to Do When You Don't Draw Your Tag

Tears are shed over many things. Death, heartbreak, failure and of course, not pulling your hunting tags. Ohhh the agony! First world problems at its finest.

Every morning for two weeks straight before the Colorado draw date, I’d fire up the computer and search the back door results to see if I’d pulled my tag. And every morning I’d nervously say, “Tomorrow it’ll show.”

Tomorrow never showed and it looks like this fella is joining the hordes that’ll be swarming the mountains with OTC tags in their pockets.  

But to be completely truthful, I don’t care much. I’ve never hunted a “premier” unit and I’m no less the worse for it. I enjoy knowing that I’m going to have to outwork and outsmart (alright, just outwork) my backcountry brethren.

And honestly I enjoy the freedom of an OTC tag. Out of the 186 GMUs in Colorado, 137 of them you can hunt on public land with an archery OTC tag. That’s a sizable portion of the state to explore.

Now we all have our own individual reasons that attract us to hunting. Some it’s the camaraderie, others it to put meat in the freezer or some combination of the two. For me, my satisfaction heavily relies on exploring new country.

I’ve been told this is self sabotage. Anyone who knows much about being successful at putting some fur on the ground year after year knows that learning and hunting one area can significantly increase your odds of success.

Is it a pain in the ass to become familiar with a new unit? Yes. Does it satisfy what hunting means most to me? Absolutely. Am I hindering my success? Well, that’s not as easy to answer.

To me, success typically equates to staying in longer. Or another way of saying it is just long enough to put an animal on the ground.

I learned that one of my weaknesses long ago was boredom. I can’t sit in one place and do the same thing for more than a moment. Hell, I’ve already peed twice, changed my laundry, started dinner and reallocated my assets in my Roth IRA by the time I put a period on the end of this sentence (.)

So, if I had to sit in the same GMU, looking at the same mountainside year after year, I’d probably pack up my tent and head out of there before the first elk bugled.

So why fight it? Learn your weaknesses and adapt. I switch out GMUs just about every year in hopes of seeing something new and fantastical. Maybe there’s a new waterfall with a ten foot tall 14x9 bathing elk shooting rainbows out of its ass that I just need to see! Who knows, this is my magical little world!

All that aside, there’s really only one way to look at anything that is out of our control and that’s positively. Me throwing a temper tantrum in no way changes the outcome of not pulling a tag.

So I just go with it. See it as a sign to go explore something new. I get to look at the same computer screen almost every day of my life, I sure as hell don’t need to take that same feeling of familiarity into what I deem the most unpredictable of sports I take part of.

Hunting is about trying your hardest to get a particular, pre-envisioned outcome to come to fruition. Lay that beast on the ground. Enjoy time spent with hunting buddies. Take the unpredictable path to the unpredictable outcome. Explore.

// Fred

Homemade Energy Bars

If I could conveniently sum up all of the USA’s current problems in two easy words what would it be? White sugar.

Ok, perhaps that’s an oversimplification. But I’ll go as far as saying it’s the new smoking. It is something I’ve experimented with eliminating from my diet and I can honestly say at age 38, I’ve never felt better or been stronger.

It goes beyond sugar. It’s eliminating everything that comes in a box or eating anything I can’t pronounce.

Good for you, yes. Convenient? Absolutely not.

This can prove to be a HUGE problem when it comes to hunting season and the backcountry. Carrying steak and vegetables with us probably isn’t an option.

Just looking at the sugar content in something like a Cliff bar cold put you into a diabetic coma. Many of the other “health bars” are not far off. Don’t let the marketing fool you, your health is not their first concern.

Well shit, now what? Avoid prepackaged food? What are we going to take with us then? Pine cones and twigs just aren’t going to cut it.

Luckily making your own bars is almost as easy as buying them. I’ve come up with a recipe that tastes damn good and contains only whole foods.

Warning: These suckers aren’t for casual eating. They are meant for fueling your body through the rigors the backcountry will inevitably throw at you. They are calorie bombs and if you aren’t exerting a herculean effort, you’ll blow up like a puffer fish.

* I am not a doctor. Hell I don’t even play one on TV. I’m just an advocate of eating whole, natural foods. Feel free to veer off of my recipe to get to something that may suit your needs better.

Get the blender ready, it’s time to put these sugar saturated “energy bars” out of business.

Ingredients

• 3 Cups of Walnuts
• 2 Cups of Almonds
• 2.5 Cups of pitted Dates
• 1 Cup of Unsweetened Dried Cranberries
• 0.5 Cups of Unsweetened Coconut Flakes
• 0.75 Cups of Egg Whites
• 1 Tbs. of Cinnamon
• 1 Tsp. of Matcha
• 1 Tbs. of Chai Seeds

Directions

1. Blend everything together using a blender. The dates will make it extra sticky, so add these to the other ingredients a little at a time.
2. Line an 8”x8” Pyrex pan with parchment paper.
3. Scoop mixed ingredients into lined pan.
4. Heat in oven at 350º F for about a half hour.
5. Cut up into 8 servings and let cool and store in a Ziplock bag.

I like to freeze them until I’m ready to use. They’ll last the week or so you’re in the backcountry easily. Feel free to comment below and suggest other ingredients.

// Fred

Solo Backcountry Hunter

“If you really want to do something, you’ll find a way. If you don’t, you’ll find an excuse.”

— Jim Rohn

Backcountry hunter. That title is getting thrown around a lot these days. Visions of ourselves, battling it out deep in the mountains. Digging our feet into the soil, spearheading forward and pitting ourselves  against the most violent of elements. Studying our quarry for days on end, learning their habits, their patterns, all in hopes of that one slip up, giving us the chance to sneak in and bring them down.

A baddass.

Flicking the middle finger to the modern day conveniences that have made us so soft, so detached from our once natural surroundings and heading off into the great unknown. Backpack, bow and a healthy portion of testosterone to keep us company in the deeps.

The solo backcountry hunter. The Navy Seals of the hunting community. What a vision.

Easy to visualize, not so easy to do.

It’s a loose term at best. I’m sure we all define it a bit differently. Two miles off the road for a day hunt? Eight miles deep for a ten day sufferfest? It’s your fantasy big guy, define it how you want.

But I’m going to go ahead and say it’s at least a three day trip. My blog, guess I get to take some liberties.

Working your way deep into an area that sees very little hunting pressure due to it’s “inconvenient” location, sure sounds like it will up your chance of success, right? Animals that have seen so few humans that they will eat an apple off the end of your broadhead.

So if it’s really that easy, why are so few backcountry hunters unsuccessful?

My theory: Not staying in long enough. Plain and simple.

So I Need to Train to Become A Backcountry Solo Hunter?

Short answer: yes

I’m not saying some people aren’t naturally meant for the loneliness of backcountry hunting, but they’re few and far between. Ever truly been alone with nobody to talk to for ten days straight? Some people lose their shit. I was one of them. I would talk to every fury or feather creature that would lend an ear.

I wasn’t above talking to a female deer asking her, “Hey, where are all your menfolk at?”

Lizards? Easily captured and therefore a captive, albeit unwilling, audience.

With the loneliness will inevitably come the excuses.

Excuses. Holy good God, the excuses. We will rationalize them as valid, but I assure you, we only do that to save our ego. They are full on, full blown excuses, no matter what way you look at them.

These excuses will gnaw at you until you justify your decision to quit. To leave the playing field with that handy excuse in your back pocket, ready to be pulled out and used on the first body with a pulse. Lord you can’t wait to use that excuse, have someone stamp their validation on it to heal that wounded ego.

But like everything else, I promise you, with mental preparation this can be overcome.

This is where the training comes into play. Find our excuses and we’ll find the key to the puzzle on how to stay in there for the planned amount of time, thus increasing our chances of success considerably.

Let’s have a look at some of these excuses and how we can weed them out.

The Keys of Staying Power

Guilt.

Wrap everything up at home. This one is crucial. If we feel like we pissed off the significant other or left business unfinished at home because of our hunt, I can assure you this will dig deep into your psyche when you have very little else to do besides glass and burn ants with your binoculars. Get this cleaned up before you go. Make sure you have your spouse’s full support and there is no other family or work business to take of.

I recently left for a ten day trip into the backcountry of Arizona to chase desert mule deer. This was easy to do when I was a single man with literally zero responsibility. That ain’t the case these days. With a four month old son at home and a beautiful and supportive woman manning the helm while I was to be away, I needed to be in contact. I typically love being out of communication from everyone while on these trips, but hey, a small request from the woman who was letting me wander the wilds like a carefree hippy.

Enter technology.

Use technology. Embrace technology. Technology can be your friend. I took a Spot satellite phone with me while out there and I don’t ever think I’ll go in again without one. I was able to assure her that I was alive and kicking. And just to hear my little man’s babblings, I would have carried a phone the size/weight of a cinder block if need be.

I knew by bringing this technology I would alleviate the guilt of being out of contact for ten days. I foresaw this problem and remedied it. That excuse was as good as dead.

Keeping in contact in the backcountry.

Hunting Pressure. 

Hearing this one kills me. So easy to work around, yet I hear this excuse all the time.

“The valley was packed! I don’t think Super Bowl 50 is going to have as many spectators watching as there were hunters watching for elk in there!”

Yeesh… Backcountry hunting right? If you see other hunters, get in deeper. Simple as that. If you don’t want to, use the other hunters to your advantage. Know the animals escape routes and let the hunting pressure push them to you.

You need to be flexible in these situations. Scouting a new area doesn’t always tell us how much pressure an area receives. If you’re using the hunting pressure to your benefit, maybe you won’t attempt to spot and stalk, but rather setting up an ambush on escape routes.

With the amount of public land in the western states, this one simply is not a valid excuse. The two backcountry bowhunting trips I did in 2015 resulted in not seeing a single person in the deeps. Fifteen total days of hunting and not a single biped, oh and by the way, they were in OTC units.

Be an F-ing Gladiator.

Do you need to be in ridiculous shape to hunt the backcountry? Yup. I’ll catch shit for this one, but I’m gonna stick to my guns. I can’t think of a time that I said to myself, “You know what? All that training was a complete waste of time! I could have been plowing back Cheetos and sinking into the couch watching other motivated warriors kill each other over a football.”

Training does two things for you. It allows you to get where ever you want and makes you think that you’re badass enough to kill whatever walks in front of you.

For me, physical training throughout the year boosts my mental game more than anything. Believe me, you can’t have enough mental game when it comes to being a true backcountry hunter.

Never Give Up.

Unlike most team sports, the success of a hunting trip can change in a second. This is SO imperative to understand. You could be out there for two weeks and see nothing but your own shadow. Then the last hour of the hunt, bam, there’s that trophy animal staring you down forty yards away.

But the key is, you have to be in there for that to happen. Every second you spend hanging in there gives you another chance of taking that animal.

So find your own mantra. A key word or phrase that you say over and over when times are rough. When you want to give up and find that excuse as to why you should leave. They will come pouring in, by the hundreds. Don’t play that victim game with yourself, man up and stay in there.

For me, I picture this image and repeat over and over, “Never give up.”

Cheesy? Perhaps.

Equipment Failure.

This is probably the easiest excuse to make. Why blame ourselves when we can blame something that can’t defend itself. If our equipment fails, we are the ones that really failed. We buy it after all.

So do the research, then test it!

“My tent leaked. My boots fell apart. I didn’t have enough food.”

Lame. This is what the preseason is for, weeding out these problems. You’re out scouting anyway, so this is the perfect time to test everything out. If you don’t like it, sell it on Craigslist and start over. No excuses.

Finding Our Weaknesses

Time for a trial run. We are going to actively seek out our weaknesses with a test run.

Don’t have the time you say?

Instead of spending your money in that new bow or spotting scope, buy a few days off of work. I mean this quite literally. Do whatever it takes, but get yourself four or five days off in a row and plan on heading into the backcountry on a solo scouting trip. Do this well before the hunting season starts. Your goal here is to learn what excuses will arise and you can’t do that if you have someone else to help rid the loneliness.

Take a small notebook with you to write all your thoughts down. Don’t rely on remembering what you were feeling, you may be so flooded with emotions that you couldn’t possibly remember them all.

Field Notebook

Write down all the doubts and fears that come to you while you’re out there. All of them. These WILL become your excuses later on as to why you quit.

Learn them well right now and you can work on countering them before the big trip.

Some examples of what I found out about myself and how I countered them:

• detachment from my newborn son → brought a satellite phone with me
• sketchy area with illegal aliens and drug runners → carried a handgun (not always legal when bowhunting)
• feeling like I picked the wrong spot → reminded myself that I did my homework, there were animals in here, though they wouldn’t be tied to the rocks. Have some patience.
• violent storms → had an alternate camping area that was lower in elevation if the storm really pounded the area
• hopelessness → found my inner motivator, a frog choking out a bird while being eaten. NEVER GIVE UP

Backcountry solo hunting has become an obsession with many of us. It’s the most primal and exhilarating way to experience hunting. It tests us physically but most of all mentally. Like anything difficult, we don’t become experts at it overnight. But like most things in life, the things most difficult to achieve tend to be the most rewarding to us.

Share the same passion? Well freakin hit me up in the comments section and tell me about them. I’m not here to just spit my opinions at you, let's hear what you got!

// Fred Bohm

Brain Leather

“Do the thing and you will have the power.”

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

Vague at best. Yet ever since I first mouthed that sentence, it has crept into the stem that holds my brain in place with increasing frequency. I find myself subconsciously repeating this little statement when there is a hard decision to make. Maybe not even hard decisions, but ones that will require some effort on my part. Something that is easy to do, but just as easy not to. The small decisions that when made, keep us from having to make the big decisions.

Well here was a small decision. I needed to get the hell out of Denver and escape the heat of my festering neighborhood. I called a good buddy to see if he wanted to venture up to the high country to sling some arrows (that's what we tell our significant others at least) and for some general bullshitting. He's in.

Fifty arrows later, three worn out dogs and a roaring campfire with the conversation greased up by some Yuenglings, we get on one of my favorite conversations; the conversation of success.

Of course this starts off with hunting stories of our heroics, but my partially inebriated brain is drawing some correlations to success in more general terms. Work, family, love, and life. You know, the little things.

We go through the obvious culprits that breed success: Drive, hard work, being at the right place at the right time. Nothing new here. But that voice, that incessant voice that has been reverberating through my core says "Do the thing and you will have the power".

Enough already. I want the power, but what the hell is the thing? These damn riddles with their open ended interpretations. Give me the answer and I'll do whatever it takes. But we all know by now that it isn't the answer that matters, but the questions we ask.

I snap back into it as Shaun is discussing physical toughness, him being a personal trainer, it seems like the natural place to take the conversation.

"This attribute is what leads to success in the forest chasing game that we could never hope to match in strength. These animals do this for a living. They punch in to the clock the day they're born and don't punch out until my arrow slices through their heart or the nagging from their old lady makes them end it themselves. And all the time in between they are honing their skills to make me look like a fool while chasing them." he explained.

Meanwhile I sat behind a computer well into the night working towards the "worlds pastiest" award for computer nerds, I think to myself. I have to say I think I'm a step ahead of the competition.

"That can't be it. I have a better chance at winning the bronze medal in women's gymnastics than I do out performing an elk's physical toughness." I fire back through the haze.

"Glad to see you're still with us." comes Shaun's retort.

Ignoring this, I continued on. "You see, I'm often successful on my hunts. And I've thrown luck out the window when I heard Selma Hayek married that rich fella, so I refuse to believe it's that. As for physical strength, I agree it helps, but unless I punch an elk to death, it's not that either.

"Yea, but physical toughness is one of the ingredients for mental toughness." Shaun said.

"Now you're on it."

Mental toughness. Everything else is just a part of what leads to this. The thing. This is what separates the Cameron Haneses from the rest of us. This is what we strive to gain in the off season, gain with every naysayer attempting to crush our dreams because they refuse to chase theirs. We gain or lose this with every decision, whether we know it or not. Mental toughness, the THING!

Mental toughness is the stacking of experiences, physical toughness (depending on the situation), drive and above all our integrity. Yes integrity, the ability to be honest with ourselves. NEVER making excuses as to why we didn't succeed.

Excuses quite simply, are lies. Lies to ourselves to protect our egos and lies to those we seek to impress and/or hate to let down. Make them enough and we start to believe them to be true. We are creating our own reality after all.

We then become victims of our circumstances and don't take our lives into our own hands. We wait for others to hand us what we deem as "ours" by right. And if we don't get it, the fault is never our own. Instead we have an excuse in our back pockets ready to be pulled out when the first signs of hard work are in site.

Do the thing and you will have the power... DO. Not "I'll give it my best shot" and  when I can't accomplish it, I'll have an excuse ready to cuddle my poor ego and tell it that everything will be alright. DO THE THING.

"You with me there buddy?" I heard Shaun through the fire.

A sharp pain in my stomach faded me back into reality.

I felt the landing gear settle into place. Stewardesses prepare for landing, we're bringing this bird down.

"Uh... yea. I'm here." I paused. "I have to go do the thing."

Shaun gave me a puzzled look as I walked towards the truck to grab a roll of toilet paper.

"I'm going to go do the thing behind that bush... Maybe tomorrow it'll give me the power." I mutter behind me as I waddled off into the woods.

Not sure, but I think I may have missed the point of what Ralph meant.

// Fred

Visit with Kifaru International

A steady wall of snow pounds my windshield as I drive to an appointment at the warehouse district of Denver.  Any form of outdoor activity has been thrown out the window for the day--playing with snow at this time of year is about as appealing to me as driving in it. So I pick the lesser of the two evils. "Six more weeks you say? How is it that you are right more often than a weatherman with every form of technology at his disposal?" Comes the mumble out of my mouth.  That damn groundhog and his eerily spot-on predictions.

I'm at Kifaru International for a tour of sorts. After meeting one of their ranks, Aron Snyder, at a little death march he puts together for offseason training, I'm invited to stop by and have a look at their operations. Aron's a fella that plays the part of knowing what the hell he's talking about when it comes to the needs of the backcountry.

Picture G.I. Joe taken from the big screen,  bow in hand, a plug of Copenhagen horseshoed in his lower lip and the ability to motivate a group of guys to throw fifty pound packs on their back and march up a hill just for the" fun of it".

If he's this dedicated to helping others achieve their training goals, I'd be curious to see what his motivation does for the Kifaru lineup.

Kifaru

Deceptively Small

I step through the front door and all seems normal. A display room with a bunch of packs hanging from the wall and some well placed taxidermy.

From the back room a bald headed, linebacker looking gorilla walks towards me. A smile comes across my face as I am reaffirmed yet again the direction our sport is headed. I'm pumped to be a part of this revolution. From weekend hobbyists to fully committed mountain athletes and guys like this are spearheading the charge.

The ceremonial handshakes are given and we get right to it.

"Come on back, I want you to see something." Aron says.

We head to a back room, where it became apparently obvious that this is where ideas are hashed out and put to paper. A printer the size of a Volkswagen sits poised and ready to vomit out paper according to its masters wishes. And this case, it's master is Erik Bender, one of Kifaru's product designers.

"What do you think of this?" Erik points to a new concept the team has been working on. "Would you use it in the field?"

Alright then, I'm guessing these guys aren't afraid to ask for an outsider's opinion. I turn the prototype over in my hands and slowly start to see the many ways this could make my life easier when I'm away from the comforts of home.

"We've been working on it since this morning. I want to test it out on an upcoming trip." Aron explains.

My mind reels. Spitting out a prototype in four hours time is nothing to take too lightly. If creations evolve through generational turnover, this business model is sure to keep Kifaru ahead of the game.

"How did you get this designed and created in four hours?" Comes what I deemed as logical question.

"That's the next stop in the tour." Aron says as he motions me out of the room and into the bowels of the building.

I should have known something was amiss when I walked into the tiny showroom. That was just a fraction of what the building held.

M'erica

The heart of Kifaru is here, where hands are creating the products that the rest of us depend on to haul our life supporting gear into the backcountry.

People glide between monster sewing machines and grommet presses. You can feel the room pulse with the pride of its operators.

"Nothing that goes into our gear is from anywhere but right here in the USA. Not the material, not the zippers, not a single stitch comes from foreign soil." Aron explains. I can tell this point is important to him, Aron coming from a military background and all.

American pride runs strong through the pipe works of this place, apparently down to the last stitch.

"We are able to remain nimble because of this room right here." Aron continues. “We can concept an idea in the morning and have it created by the afternoon. Test it, refine it, then produce it. All right here."

"I remember that pack you were wearing on our training hike. Do you know why you were struggling and falling behind?"

As one to always let my ego get in the way, I respond, "Because I was carrying more weight than everyone else?"

"Unlikely. Because the pack you were carrying can't hold weight for shit." He says with a straight face.

I could tell he wasn't bad mouthing the brand of pack that I was using, just making an honest assessment of the situation.

"And your guy's packs have a way of defying gravity huh? They work on a different law of physics?" I couldn't help myself.

"Just try this." Comes his patient response.

He hefts a nearby pack on my back. I go through my procedure of buckling it down and bounced around a bit.

"Not bad. Super stable." Comes my response.

"That's 60 pounds." He smiles.

A dumbfounded look comes over my face. Newton might have missed this one. I've lifted small babies that felt heavier than this.

"The right fit and a well thought out suspension system can go a long way." Aron states.

We push on through the factory with Aron pointing out some of the highlights to their designs. All very hunter specific type of stuff. A sleeping bag that zips in the front to allow for glassing while still in the bag, a lightweight backcountry teepee, a wood burning stove that collapses small enough to allow for a small leprechaun to fit it in his back pocket. You know, stuff like that.

I've never seen anything like this in the market before. My gut tells me that once this stuff gets in front of the public's eye, the sky is the limit for Kifaru.

"So where are these ideas coming from?" I ask.

"Heard of Mountainsmith?" Aron's eyebrow went up as he asks a question he already knows the answer to.

"Indeed I have." Comes my response.

"Patrick Smith founded, owned and was the lead designer back in the day. Today, he owns Kifaru. The guy knows what's what in the game and has hired the best to help support and advance the company." Aron explains.

That's like Bill Gates going out and starting another software company, it's bound to have at least a little success.

After digging a little deeper, it sure appears that Smith is the real deal. His background alone speaks wonders, but that's not what impresses me the most. After decades working in the industry, his enthusiasm for perfection hasn't appeared to wane. He spends over 200 days a year camping out and testing his designs to this day. How many of us have that level of dedication to our work?

"Impressive." Is the only keenly witted response that comes to mind.

Drinking the Kool-Aid

I liked what I saw in Kifaru. An all American company with experience and dedication all the way from the helm to the employees manning the machines.  All the elements of a successful company were certainly there, but the proof is in the pudding as they say.

"Next time we're out training and you're handing me my ass on the mountain, I'll throw one of those 60 pound gravity defying packs and see what it can do." I say to Aron as I walk to the door.

"Oh the pack will do fine, it's whether those chicken legs of yours will carry you up the hill. That is the question you should be asking yourself." Comes the response.

Like the weather man, technology will only take you so far. And like that damn ground rat said, I still have six more weeks until spring. That should be plenty of time to get these chicken legs in backcountry shape.

//Fred

After doing a little online research about the creator/owner of Kifaru, Patrick Smith, I knew I had to find a way in there to talk to this guy. He was kind enough to grant me a meeting, which I recorded because my memory is shot to hell, so remembering what he said would be out of the question and I can't read my own handwriting, so there was strike two. Recording the conversation proved to be the way to go.

What I ascertained from the meeting is that this guy was a certified badass, no question about it.

So next up, some deep down insight on the hunting industry from one of its pioneers. Will it be Hunting the Rat's first podcast? Or another poorly spelled post? We'll just have to see.

Tomorrow

I've learned to hate that word, tomorrow. It's never really sat well with me, not when I was a kid and not now. "Don't worry sweetie, we'll go tomorrow." I'd hear and wonder to myself why tomorrow was a better option than today.

It's become a lame excuse; a way to put off what should be done today in hopes that it will be easier the next day. It's almost as bad as "someday", only this lie inflicts more damage.

At least with "someday" you never really believe that you're going to accomplish what follows that word, nor does anyone else you're proclaiming this statement to. It's a harmless, far off dream that you never really intend to chase anyway.

"Tomorrow" on the other hand is the true killer. It allows us to believe just enough that we are really going to obtain that goal, that we really are as committed as we wish we were. That tomorrow we will take the necessary steps to wrestle that dream to the ground and make it ours.

The lie needs to stop if we want to take what is ours. There is no tomorrow, but there is a today.

Post Season Post Mortem

As my season comes to an end, I look back at the good and bad of what went down. What I was happy with and what I vow to change. It's the perfect time to reflect, as the pain of defeat still festers like an open wound, burning enough to make us want to avoid its repetition. Looking back allows us to systematically go over what led us to failure and take steps to avoid letting it happen again the next year. Sure there are instances that we have no control over, some would call it bad luck. But those are few and far between and if we're honest with ourselves, we more than likely had some control over those situations.

So what was it that kept you from success?

I'll review some of mine with you and hopefully we can look into some of yours as well. Write down what prevented you from success and come up with clear and concise ways to solve the problem. Don't wait for tomorrow to do it. Fire up your word processor, get out a piece of paper or scribe it into your forearm, I don't care how you do it, just do it!

Work

This one, well this one gets in the way for most of us. I missed my most coveted hunt this year because the "need" to work. What actually caused it was the lack of planning. I allowed myself to get caught up in work because I didn't plan far enough ahead to get the required work done in order to free my time up for this hunt.

How will I resolve this?

Once I have the dates of the hunt in the calendar, it's set in stone. Just like a meeting with a client would be treated. This is time that I make with myself to pursue what makes me happy. Don't put off  what you love on the back burner because of lack of planning. Treat yourself as your most important client and don't accept "no" for an answer.

Fred at Work

Preparing for War

Not being prepared equates to excuses in the field. We as humans have the ability to come up with an excuse for just about anything.

"It was too cold out there, the animals were hunkered down and out of sight."

"I missed the shot because the moon was in my eyes."

The list goes on. The funny thing about these excuses is at the time, they seem legitimate. When we have a chance to look back we realize that we actually created them in order to get us out of an uncomfortable or painful situation.

There are three things that make it onto my list of being prepared for long backcountry hunts.

Physical Training

I know, this is all the rage these days. There's a good reason it's popular, it freakin' works. Feeling physically powerful when I'm deep in the woods affects more than just what I can carry in and carry out. It makes me feel like I'm the king of the domain, that I'm quieter, faster and more in tuned to my surroundings. It has a profound mental effect on how we see ourselves at the head of food chain, not just some tourist asking permission to spend a few days in the animals' kingdom. Don't underestimate the underlying effects of physical strength.

How do I prepare for this?

I treat hunting the same way I treat any other competition I involve myself in. I train like I'm going to the Olympics for bow hunting or upland game hunting in the backcountry. I find competitions such as Train to Hunt and sign up for them. I don't allow myself the excuse of not attending these events because of a lack of preparation. I go to the event regardless of how much I trained, not allowing excuses to keep me from the embarrassing failure that is sure to follow if I don't prepare myself properly.

I also sign up for bike and adventure races. We as hunters are naturally competitive, let that push you to the next level.

Leadville 100

Mental Training

Training should include more than just the physical aspect. Breaking down mentally has sent many a hunter home empty handed.  What about the ability to handle the loneliness of the backcountry? A day can feel like a week when you're out there by yourself, especially if you don't know how to handle all that time alone. The mind wanders into odd, sometimes all to revealing arenas when it doesn't have the stimulation from our day to day interactions.

This is probably what causes most people to quit. Something will always come up on why you should walk out, there will be no lack of excuses, I can assure you that.

How do I prepare for this?

Get out there and see what your mind does when you're by yourself. I started out with just going a night by myself, as to not freak myself out. I take a notepad with me and write down whatever excuses that start to come up on why I should leave. This may not happen the first time you're out there, but keep this pad with you as you start to lengthen your stay in the backcountry.

Once you have a list, you can start to analyze it from the comfort of your home. What comes up out there?

Example: I noticed a pattern about myself when I would get lonely. If I didn't see any game moving about in a relatively short amount of time, I would convince myself that they weren't there and that I should just pack up my gear and head out. After all it was futile to be out there hunting if there weren't any animals to hunt.

The thing is, I knew there was game out there. I allowed myself the cop out of walking out because I was uncomfortable being alone in an unfamiliar area, not because there wasn't any game. It was just a convenient coincidence that I didn't see any game at that immediate time. A convenient excuse. By being able to analyze it later, I was able to see my weakness and not allow myself to succumb to it again. Find your weaknesses then make them your strengths.

Gear

This is a fun one. I'm a total gear head and love trying to find the perfect combination of equipment to become as efficient as I can in the backcountry. There certainly isn't a lack of it these days. There are several hunting companies that built their brand around making strong, lightweight equipment that would make any alpinist jealous. Because of these options, we also have an unlimited number of excuses as to why we can't hack it, blaming equipment failure instead of our own. Know that your gear functions properly ahead of time and you can scratch it out of the excuse equation.

How do I prepare for this?

We have plenty of time to scout and camp with friends and loved ones during the spring and summer to test our gear. Use this time to hone your system in. Again I carry that same little notebook I talked about earlier to help me perfect my gear choices. I write everything down that I am using on that camping or scouting trip. I check off what I end up using and make notes of what I only use occasionally. Anything that doesn't get used at the end of the trip has to have a damn good justification on why it will be with me the next time (ie. just because you don't use your first aid kit, doesn't mean you shouldn't bring it the next time out, use common sense here). I even refine my list on hunts. The key thing is make sure that everything you're taking with you has justification for being out there with you. Look for ways of doubling up on uses.

Example: If you're taking Mountain Houses with you, don't take bags to use for your garbage. An empty Mountain House works terrific as a garbage bag. The top seals back up preventing all of its now nasty contents to stay securely within.

Black Diamond Bivy

That's the start of it. Get a plan laid out and do it NOW, not tomorrow. Tomorrow is for suckers.

What's your excuse? Hit me up in the comments below and let's get a conversation going.

//Fred

Lifestyle Design

“The revolution is not an apple that falls when it is ripe. You have to make it fall.”

— Che Guevara

It's Tuesday morning and my eyes snap open as the alarm blares in my ear. In my peripheral the glow of the clock is telling me it's 2:15 am. Few thing will get me moving at this time of the morning, hunting is one of them, the other, well, I'm keeping this post PG.

At the sound, Sage is at my side and he knows as well as I do, it's been far to long since we put down some ducks. Time to remedy that situation.

I can tell you a long winded story about making my way back up to the mountains to take down water fowl, but I won't. This one right here will do that for you. However please look at the pretty pictures of Jon, Sage and what appears to be us hunting in Siberia.

What really has me smiling this early in the morning is the fact that it is Tuesday and I have the day to do as I please. Freedom. It's what Mel Gibson and Zack de la Rocha from Rage Against the Machine have in common, they both like to scream it. Add me to that roster, because this morning I have it as well and what I'm realizing more every day is that this freedom is bringing me happiness. And even what's more important to me is the fact that I'm finally making an effort to gain it for myself.

We are creatures of habit, to this I am certain. What I am also certain about is that more often than not, these habits are created for us, not by us. We are taught at a young age through excruciating repetition on how we are to behave to become conforming, contributing members of society. Let's keep the machine well greased and moving forward.

And that works, for a while at least. Then we hit a point where we start to question, "When the hell did I agree to this?"

So today, I don't agree with it. Tuesday is a workday, well not for me, at least this week. Tuesday is a hunting day. Tomorrow, I don't know, but every day I take a piece of that control back is a day that I find a piece of me that I never new I had.

No, I don't think Che Guevara would be patting me on the back for this little internal revolution. In fact, he might be punching me in the face for my political and social views, but that is irrelevant. What's important is that we take action and make the decisions that will create our own personal freedom. So join with me, take the step and design that lifestyle you've always wanted.

Oh yea, and go shoot some ducks.

// Fred