The Last Walk
When the alarm went off at 4:30 a.m. on Wednesday of the final week of late muzzleloader season, I rolled over and hit the snooze button. After lying in bed for a few minutes and staring at the ceiling, I made my way to the bathroom and looked into the mirror. I just wasn't feeling it, but I also knew I should probably take a short hike before the snow consumed the sky and made driving unsafe. I would be able to retrieve a few things I had left in the woods, and I might see some sign that could help me next season. After all, I had limited time to hunt this year due to work obligations and life's priorities getting in the way. Well, the man looking back at me in the mirror shuffled his way back to the side of the bed, pulled the covers aside and climbed back into the cozy spot waiting for him. Was there really any reason to go to the woods three days after filling a tag on the last afternoon of the Northern Zone rifle season? I stared at the ceiling and...