Growing up in the Appalachian Mountains there are few people in my childhood who didn’t hunt. As a small child, when angry at my father, would threaten to joint PETA when I grew up just to piss him off. I clearly was the only non-hunter in a long line of hunters.

So when I married Brian, and my life combined with his, I promised that I’d at least give one of his favorite past times a try. Not long after moving to Alaska I took my hunter safety course. That was as far as I was able to get mentally.

Six years later, Brian won a veteran Oryx tag on the White Sands Missile Range. As a once in a lifetime opportunity, I didn’t want to miss the chance so I started mentally preparing myself. My plan was to shoot the way I’d come so comfortable with, Nikon in hand. However, as a secured military and missile range, cameras were not allowed, so my D4 stayed home while we scouted the range. Only a single photo, under strict guidelines was allowed by a point and shoot (or smartphone).

The hunt itself was over in less than two hours. I thoroughly enjoyed scouting & driving the dirt roads of a scenic place with such restricted access.

Most importantly, I am so thankful for all of the delicious meat that now sits in my freezer. I’ve never understood trophy hunting, but there are plenty of meals that may have passed by in my childhood were it not for the ability of my father to set the table with the food the land provided. Delicious, nutritious, and another happy memory.