6th Prize
Hunting Journal with Weatherby Logo (100 awarded)
John Presley, Alaska
“There is only one place that comes to mind when I think of a dream hunt, Alaska, and coincidently, I just happen to live there. As a soldier stationed at Ft. Richardson, I have had a residence there for over two years. During my first year I spent most of it on the ranges and training in the lower 48 for our upcoming deployment to Iraq. During my second year, well I spent it in Iraq where I missed two hunting seasons.
During my time in Iraq, my dad and I would talk about hunting in Alaska and how great it would be once I got back. Sadly most of that talk is nothing but wishful thinking because once I return from this trip to Iraq, I will be stationed at a new installation where going back to Alaska will be out of reach and I will have to train new soldiers on how to stay alive in what some consider the most dangerous place on earth.
I have dreamed of hunting Alaska from a child on up to adulthood, reading countless articles about hunting excursions deep into the wilds. They were spurred on by my father who although he could not afford to carry me on a hunt to Alaska, never once let a young boy’s dreams be crushed by pride. I admire my father beyond all other mortal men, growing up in south Georgia his teachings of the outdoors and the morals and dedication that it takes to pursue wild game enabled me to become an Army Ranger, part of an elite group of soldiers in the U.S. Army. When I would come home on leave, we would always go out hunting in the local fields around his house and each time the bond between father and son would become stronger. Later on while most of his friends’ children were going to college, he watched on television as his son invaded Afghanistan and later Iraq, while others we going out hunting with their children, he was taking me along in a picture that he carried with him in his shirt pocket.
So do I have a dream hunt, oh yes, if I could only go on more hunt in my life, I would love to float down the Yukon River in Alaska on a 10-day float trip for moose, my father next to me, hand on my shoulder, as we started this new adventure. Just getting prepared for a once in a lifetime trip as this would be would be half the fun. I haven’t seen him in almost two years and I could only imagine what our conversations would entail. The taking of a moose, though the intent, would not be the main focus. The time spent as father and son, an American Tradition, working as a team to achieve a common goal, learning from one another that is what this hunt would be all about. Waking up each morning watching the sun rise as we prepared for the day’s activities, listing to the guide talk and tell stories, doing everything that we have only dreamt about, just to be afforded the time to sit next to the mighty Yukon...next to one another with no one else around is a dream within a dream.
Recently, I became a father myself and felt for the first time what my father must have felt when he held me. Although I could never repay him for the patience and love of the wilderness he instilled in me. I will make sure that my daughter learns the same lessons that he taught me, so that our truly American Tradition does not end.”