The Last Day

   The alarm jarred me out of sleep. It was December 8, 2024, the last day of Northern Zone rifle season in New York. I had been going straight-out since mid-October, never missing a day and out of bed every morning before 4:30. Although I had loved every minute of every day, my body was finally beginning to feel the aches and pains associated with bushwhacking through swamps, scaling cliffs, climbing mountains, and crossing rivers. With the exception of two travel days, I had found myself in the woods every day from sun-up until sundown. While I've heard many others say they've done the same, I've often doubted it because I know how difficult a task it is to accomplish. 

  The embers in the wood stove shone brightly as I cracked the door open and stacked a few pieces of wood on top of the burning coals. Although the fire was just about gone, the fresh flow of air gave it some life, and there was a slim chance of hope that the newly added wood would catch fire and burn slowly until our return. A 12-hour burn is asking a lot, but my internal fire was still burning strongly. Was it wrong of me to ask the wood stove to join me and keep the fire burning?

  While looking outside, reality slapped me in the face: I had one day left to fill my tag, or I would be looking at my first unsuccessful year in doing that since 1984... 40 years ago. Although thoughts about it had crossed my mind in the last week, I looked beyond the surface and realized if that happened, I had chosen my path to get there. In the first week of the season, I passed three bucks, including a really good 8-pointer that most people would kill to see, let alone kill, especially in the Adirondacks. It was a once-in-a-lifetime deer for many. Even 20 years ago, I would've let the "Widowmaker" bark and do its job to lay the buck in the leaves for its final sleep. However, times have changed, my goals and aspirations have seen things that create different thoughts, and I am completely satisfied with simply enjoying the hunt and not worrying about filling a tag. 

  As Dad and I began our trek into the woods, I knew the walk would take us upward of an hour and a half to get to the area where we would split up to go our own ways and create our own memories. Making our way up hills and through dense cover, the snow fell from the trees. Melting, it ran down my spine and found a home near my waistline. I was tired... exhausted, but I knew "today was the day." 

  After all, "today had been the day" for the last month and a half. I felt the same thing every morning I woke, and it never ceased to be in my mind until I had gotten out of the woods. This day was no different. However, the freshly fallen snow would most likely keep deer from moving too much. In my experience in the area where we found ourselves, deer rarely moved while the snow remained hanging on the branches. I managed to ignore the thoughts of it and continued telling myself "today is the day."

  When Dad and I finally got to the place where we would separate, the clothes on my upper torso were soaked from a combination of sweat and melted snow. My year seemed to sum itself up in the darkness below the big pine. Looking into the abyss of nothingness, I wondered if I had made the right choice to take time off after being laid off last March, collecting my severance, living life, and regrouping when deer season ended in hopes of having a clear mind and better picture of where I want to go and what I want to do. Unfortunately, as I stood with my father, I questioned my choices. My life seemed to have followed the same path as my hunting season right to the place where I stood. Realizing I might have wasted a few months of valuable time, I knew there was nothing I could do. Instead, I needed to keep marching forward on all the paths in front of me, including giving it everything I had on the last day. 

  About a half hour after leaving each other, I found myself changing my wet clothes and putting dry ones on. This quickly took the chill from my bones and gave me new life, changing my entire attitude and thought process. 

  An hour into my sit, I welcomed the reality of what was happening. I was not overly satisfied with the results of my season, but being able to hunt had still given me the inner peace I always strive to find. It also gave me a lot of laughs, some great memories, and a gentle reminder that this life is not easy. Just like deer hunting, life challenges me and forces me to adjust on the fly. 

  Then, my thoughts were quickly distracted when I saw an animal moving across the snow behind me. Turning to get a better look, I could easily see that it was a deer... a buck. After getting a better look, I identified it as a buck I wanted to shoot. 

  Easing the two-position safety forward, I found a hole in the timber in front of the deer and waited. When the deer stepped into the hole, I put the cross hairs on the shoulder and applied pressure on the trigger until a thunderous roar was quickly engulfed by the snow. 

  Walking toward the area where the deer had been standing, I saw a clump of hair and some blood. Within seconds, I knew I would be walking up on the fallen buck. The snow was painted in a deep red; a sight that only hunters can relate to on an intimate level. Then, I spotted the deer. My season was over with eight hours left on the clock.

  After snapping some pictures, I began dragging. I planned on taking most of the day to get back to the road. I wanted to fully enjoy the experience. The freshly fallen snow would make the drag easy. 

  Nearing the end of my trip, I sat on a log and stared at the water trickling in the stream next to me. As the water passed, I realized it signified life... and hunting season. Time does not stand still for anyone. Our efforts don't always lead to great things or even good things, but if we keep on track and never give up, we give ourselves opportunities that may have been lost had we chosen to tap out. 

  This year has been physically and mentally challenging for me. It started at the beginning of 2024, a year in which I hoped to achieve great things. Then, in the blink of an eye, my life changed and hasn't stopped changing the entire year. In January, I was diagnosed with some pretty serious heart issues. In all my years of being a Type 1 diabetic, I had never experienced any of the complications associated with the disease. I have always done my best to stay on top of things, but then there it was... staring me in the face. I couldn't escape it. 

  Within a month of finding out the news, I was informed that the company that employed me for the last 33 years was reorganizing and my job was being eliminated. Then, my mom fell in the driveway while Dad and I were in Alabama at an ASA event. She fractured her humerus in multiple places. As the year progressed, things began piling up, and I had the worst year I've ever experienced in competitive archery. Then, I went to my annual diabetic eye exam and found out I had lost the depth perception in one eye as well as losing a lot of vision in one eye. After getting that information, the doctors decided they had to operate on my mom and put in a new shoulder due to the complications associated with everything that was broken. 

  All of that stuff led me to the day I sat on the log and watched the water pass by me. Things have not gotten better, but hunting season allowed me to be alone, sort through my thoughts and make plans for the future. I'll figure it out, and I'm glad I had hunting season to help me along the way. I saw things I will never forget, and I became one with the creatures of the forest. 

  Starting over at 55 years old is not an easy task. While most people are thinking of retiring, I'm going back to the year I got out of college when I had to find something to get me started on a career path that would allow me to chase my dreams and do the things that brought me the most happiness. Being in that same place now, it doesn't seem as easy as it did back then. I look forward to 2025 and hope for a little luck along the way in finding something that fits perfectly into my life and allows me to use my skills to help everyone involved. 

  I also learned throughout the hunting season and competitive archery season that it's difficult to achieve great things when you are distracted by life changes. Life changes bring new opportunities. Although I haven't capitalized on any new opportunities after nine months of trying to figure things out, I was able to capitalize on an opportunity the last day of hunting season. Just like that day, every day I wake up, I say, "Today's the day." One of these days will be the day I start a new adventure, and I'll hop on the train and see where it takes me.

  Until then, I'll be going at it from sun-up until sundown because I don't know any other way to do it. I've always given everything I have to whatever I've done, and I don't expect any changes in that arena. Although this year's deer was the hardest buck I've ever earned, I'm beginning to think that scoring a new job will rival that. In the end, though, I'll sit on the log again and watch the water pass by. They say all water heads to the same place in the end, and I'm doing the same. This game of life is incredible and has different challenges for each and every player. In the end, nobody gets out of this game alive, so we have to adapt and realize we are just like the water I watched that day. We glide along and let the stream take us where we belong. I'm thankful for every step of my journey up to this point, so I have no reason to believe the stream won't drop be into some more amazing places on my journey to the final destination. Here's to another hunting season and another year!