The Hunt

"pull"...  I sheepishly turned around and met eyes with the guide.  "Sorry" he said, "I didn't hear you".  I turned back around, took a really deep breath and yelled "PULL!" My eyes scanned the horizon where I briefly caught glimpse of the orange disk flying through the air.  Well, here goes nothing - I pulled the trigger which prompted a blast from the .28 I couldn't believe was cocked to my right shoulder.  Although I missed the target (and I'm pretty sure by a lot), I turned back around, a grin plastered on my face.
"You were right there, almost" he said. 
I love when people are encouraging. All I could think was, now I know why I shoved those orange ear plugs in my ear and this is only target practice.

There are few things more thrilling than a first time in life.  Or at least, that's how I feel.  There's a sense of adventure, of not knowing if you'll like it or hate it.  Whether its food - like the first time I ate an oyster.  Or something that pushes your physical limitations - the first time I swam 100 yards of butterfly (that's four lengths of the pool doing that stroke where you dolphin kick while both arms fly out of the water simultaneously... seriously, who thought of that).  Or maybe it's the first time you meet someone truly special in your life.  Firsts are something to be thoughtfully treasured and always remembered.


As you can probably see where I'm going with this, I had a new first this past weekend.  Well two actually. The first time I went hunting and consequently, the first time I had ever shot a gun.  Now I'm not sure how I felt about hunting in the past.  If anyone in my family has hunted (prior to my marriage:-) ), I was unaware of it and I had never thought of doing it.  Frankly, I knew nothing about it except for the less desirable stereotypes often associated.  This hunting expedition was definitely eye opening and I'll admit, downright fun.

The adventure was embarked on with Eric's family.  Their very dear friend had graciously invited us to hunt quail on a guided trek at their hunting club in Southern Georgia.  So my mother-in-law and father-in-law, my sister-in-law and her husband, Eric and I went hunting.  A family affair.

As mentioned, we were hunting quail which involves highly trained dogs that actually locate the birds and point once one has been tracked.  This particular location where we hunted was a preserve with farmed quail that had been set loose.  The guide would let loose two dogs which would leap and bound through the brush, elated to be running in the outdoors and along for the hunt.  I was absolutely in awe of the dogs.  Their ability to find a camouflaged bird in fairly dense brush is truly something exceptional. These dogs have been bred as pointers - their purpose in life fulfilled to be doing just that. 

Surprisingly, I actually got a few birds, something I wasn't sure would be possible for this first time.  Although it was a good time and I really did like being in the great outdoors practicing one of human's oldest pastimes - I couldn't help but think of long ago when humans hunted to put food on the table.  Of course, we would be eating all we hunted as well, but there is a difference in hunting out of the necessity to provide.  To me, being out in the fresh air and experiencing the hunt was exhilarating, challenging and sparked in me a new kind of appreciation for nature.

All in all, this first time experience is right up there in my log of memorable moments in life. I already looking forward to my next "first time" adventure which at this point I am confident wont be as challenging as hitting one of those orange flying targets...