Thankful for Outdoor Friends

IT STANDS OUT in my mind as if it were yesterday.

A beautiful ringtail (ringtail cat) crawled out of a hole in the base of a live oak that had been cut nearly to the ground and sat atop as if it owned the world.

I had seen ringtails before but always at night crossing the road or around the barn on our Menard County deer lease. Seeing one in broad daylight, just before the sun started to fade behind the hills was exciting.

It was more brightly colored than I thought and just an absolutely beautiful creature.

That was 26 years ago when I was a junior in high school and had saved my hard-earned money to get on a deer lease in the Hill Country.

The sheer amount of game in that part of the state blew my mind and getting to spend extended time there was motivation for me to save the money and help make it happen.

A close friend of mine saved up money that year to get on the lease too. I used to drag him through the woods behind my house when we were in elementary school and hunt rabbits and squirrels.

He had an interest in deer hunting that year, but it was obvious from the first weekend up there it was not going to last long. We put him on the best spot on the lease, at the juncture of a 100-acre oat field and a thicket with a fence line just behind his blind, but he said he never saw any deer.

The fourth weekend of the season I found out why.

I walked to his blind because he did not come in for lunch and he was dead asleep. Oh, and as I approached, a yearling doe stood up not two feet from his blind and quietly slipped away.

I was frustrated.

We hunted that lease one more year before moving to one near Brady, but after the 90-91 season, I never hunted with my friend again.

I was his best man, and he was in my wedding. We worked out together for more than a decade, but there was no more hunting.

Growing up I thought it would be great to have lifelong hunting and fishing friends, and today only one remains. My dear friend Lewis Hogan still loves the outdoors, but is not quite as enthusiastic as I am. He might, by the way, be the most fun person I have ever spent outdoor time with-intentionally and unintentionally.

I remember that 90-91 season as one where I pushed harder and focused more than the other hunters. I walked a mile to my blind every day (one way) and stayed in the field long hours. At home, I studied books about whitetail behavior and did everything I could to be successful.

I felt truly alive as the sun peeked through the oaks along the creek bottom and the coyotes howled in the distance. Life seemed grand as I encountered my first genuine monster buck at near point-blank range. I started dating my wife Lisa around this time and had wonderful times with her showing her the sights of the beautiful Hill Country and sharing my passion for all things wildlife.

I say all of this, because I truly believe some people need time away from the city, away from all distractions to be absorbed by true wilderness. Some of us need a connection to nature.

My friend walked away from the wild. I walked further beyond the pavement and down the trail of an amazing pursuit that has led me to this point in life.

I thank God for that opportunity and for that beautiful ringtail that so interested me on that autumn day.

I shot a buck just before dark that day and another a couple of weeks later. It was a successful deer season. However, my greatest memory was of that tiny mammal sitting proudly on the tree. It taught me that some of the greatest prizes from our hunting trips are not antlers or even a nice bowl of warm deer chili. It was the encounters.

And now I have new outdoor friends like Josh, Todd, Mike and Pastor Chris, and they all bless me. We along with Lewis seek those encounters.

There is something about encountering the elusive that continually draws me down the path of wildness. It was the right place for me at the right time.

There were many formative wildlife experiences before that, but I was at a crossroads in my junior year in high school. That year I took the path less traveled and it took me here.

That’s not a bad place to be.

Email Chester Moore at cmoore@fishgame.com