6th Prize
Hunting Journal with Weatherby Logo (100 awarded)
Brendon Hill, Washington
“My little voice tells me I'm running out of time. I have a rare liver disease that requires a liver transplant. I am not ‘sick enough’ for a transplant but I have been waiting to get sicker since 1994. I have the same illness that claimed the lives of two of my heroes, football great Walter Payton and country music star Chris Ledoux. Since being diagnosed in 1994, I have tried to go about my life with a business as usual attitude. I have recently seen the birth of my sixth child (fourth boy).
As I said before, my little voice says I am running out of time. As I wait for the disease to progress I am at high risk to develop cancer in my liver. I have recently began to realize that there is a chance I may never get to have that dream hunt with my sons. My dream hunt is a simple horseback elk hunt in the mountains of Idaho. My oldest boy is 11 years old and a great lover of the outdoors. I work as a Field rep for the NRA and spend a great portion of my time away from home. I get the opportunity to spend time with Casey when he helps me at the charity banquets I organize. Casey has a true passion for helping others and serving the NRA. We talk constantly of taking hunters ed together next year in preparation of fall deer season. Casey is an excellent shot and is responsible enough to act as rangemaster when he takes his younger siblings outside to shoot air rifles.
My desire is to spend as much time in the field with Casey to prepare him to do the same for his younger brothers. It's hard to explain how hard it is to discuss and prepare your son for your eventual or likely departure but if I don't I am risking too much of their future. Casey and I both enjoy horses and John Wayne movies, a horseback elk hunt would be a dream of a lifetime. I can picture the weeks of anticipation as we sight our rifles in and make too many trips to Sportsman's Warehouse to get just what we need. The sleepless nights leading up to our drive to meet the outfitter. I can smell the musty scent of horses mixed with the sweet aroma of mountain air. My pride would swell as I look back at Casey who is taking the ride as serious as a astronaut on liftoff...all business to make sure he doens't make a mistake. Camp would be a rustic look into the past with tent cabins and meals cooked over the fire allowing all to reminisce around the warm glowing coals. Stories of old, some true and some not, told and re–told, for future generations and what I call campfire classroom. The telling of stories that help the listener to learn something new about the majestic and magical moments that occur only in the field.
The calm but exciting stalk and the heartpounding anticipation of getting off a shot to the sad but rewarding feeling of walking up on downed game. The unforgettable taste of backstraps cooked over the fire with a celebratory chug of a really cold beer. Re–telling all the details around the campfire for those who weren't there to appreciate details and color of a mental picture usually seen in dream. These are the things I long to leave with my boys. My voice says time is running out so I look to invest in my oldest in hopes he can pass a long this love in years to come.”