Lessons of Lanai; Hunting Ghosts
In the annals of hunting lore, there are tales of triumph, tales of skill, and then there are tales like ours: the misadventures of three eager veterans trying their hand at bagging some elusive Axis Deer in Lanai, Hawaii. Picture it: Erik, the former Marine from Colorado, Chip, another ex-Marine, and Wyatt, a former Army medic, all armed with bows and a sense of determination as vast as the Pacific Ocean.
Our journey began with all the promise of a Hollywood blockbuster, but reality hit us harder than a wave crashing on the Lanai shore. Armed with permits clutched tightly in our hands (printed, mind you, because we're old school like that), we set out to conquer the wild terrain of this new island. Little did we know, Lanai had plans of its own for our merry band of would-be hunters.
The first day started with the optimism of rookies and the clumsiness of, well, rookies. Tracks aplenty, spirits soaring, we ventured forth, only to find ourselves outsmarted by a deer quicker than you can say "Aloha." While Chip and Erik stumbled upon a makeshift tree stand, I, Wyatt, found myself in a game of hide-and-seek with a deer that was clearly better at it than I was. Lesson one learned: hunting is a waiting game, not a sprint.
Undeterred by our initial setbacks, we pressed on, finding ourselves perched on a ridge, eyes peeled for any sign of our elusive prey. And lo and behold, there it was: a majestic mouflon, taunting us with its mere presence. But before we could even draw our bows, it vanished into the ether, leaving us scratching our heads and wondering if hunting was just a cruel joke the universe was playing on us.
As the days wore on, so did our patience and sanity. Stalks turned into slogs, frustrations boiled over, and the only thing we seemed to be bagging was a hefty dose of humility. Lesson two: patience isn't just a virtue; it's a survival skill.
Not discounting our streaks of luck we fumbled across. We did put together some real professional, “We look like we have done this before” stalks. Playing a game of “Which way is the wind blowing this time” and “peek-a-boo” with some axis. However, we stumbled over ourselves with a poorly communicated plan going into one of these straight to YouTube stalks. Chip unwittingly, playing peek-a-boo a little less skillfully than Erik and I were, with the same group of axis deer, and those axis turned the tables playing “We are getting the hell out of here”. Lesson Three: It’s ok to have a plan, and better to communicate that plan with everyone.
But amidst the sweat, the tears (okay, maybe just figuratively), and the occasional expletive, there were moments of pure magic. Like the time Erik spotted our quarry bedded down, only to have it vanish into thin air at the first sign of danger. Or the moments of camaraderie, as we laughed at our own misfortunes and toasted to the beauty of the island that had humbled us so. Lesson Four: Don’t become the negative Nancy, and always try and stay positive.
In the end, we may not have returned home with a trophy for the mantle, but we did return with something far more valuable: a newfound appreciation for the challenges of hunting, the importance of patience, and the power of friendship. And hey, there's always next year, right?
So here's to the misadventures, the mistakes, and the memories made along the way, and there is lesson five; It’s all for fun, don’t take it so seriously, and there will always be failures to learn from. After all, isn't that what hunting is all about?
