So Quickly October Arrived.

Sitting around, waiting to see if someone dies or not, is disconcerting.

Contemplating huge loss, amidst a great fall in these most beautiful and painful of times.

I wanted back to mountains to kill something for myself.

So quickly October arrived.

This is an unprecedented fall.

I am way off my gear.

Collectively and individually, from the micro to the macro, we’re charging into uncharted terrain, whilst shouldering a heavy burden of loss and uncertainity.

I push to be free from it all.

I run from it all.

It’s time to run with the wapiti.

Heading into my first, out of state elk hunt, I wondered if I could summon the strength, focus and resolve to pull off a solo, remote, human powered mission in somebody else’s home turf. I'm proud of my performance and continue to grow and learn out there.

I keep telling myself it’s about the meat.

But hunting fills far beyond my freezer.

Climbing for miles, under your own power, in silent reflection and humble connection to new, unforgiving and unfamiliar terrain is a gift to self.

Suffering and learning, favorite drugs of choice, available in selfishly huge supplies for the addict willing to climb, grind, explore and experience.

Reducing my focus to daily needs of survival, in the pursuit of an intangible, seemingly impossible goal, continues to save me.

The sting of hunger. The pain of thirst. The loss of love;

All powerful teachers, strong motivators and cheap therapy.

Doing this alone leaves no room for excuses. Accontability and honesty govern everything in the backcountry. The natural world is the cruelest and wisest of teachers. These experiences are the ultimate truth.

The fall is big.

Everything is raw in autumn, the most beautiful and painful of times.

Death remains close at hand.

So quickly October arrived.