Hunt2Prove

This past week, while navigating across a stretch of partially charred acreage in Moore County, NC, I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude and happiness – My dream of professional stewardship had come true, my vision for this expanse of land was becoming a reality.  As we traversed to a different point on the fire-line, many years’ worth of thoughts and happenings played out in my mind.

It was the first few days of October 2009.  Savanna was just shy of two months old and still sleeping on my chest most nights.  I remembered the excitement at just the thought of having a new place to spread my wings and grow as a hunter, the curiosity and eagerness that comes with new ground to explore, and the many moments of reflection on where I’d been, who I was, and who I wanted to become.  I remembered my first meeting with the Davidson Family who owned the strip of land that made the Adam’s lands most accessible.  Without their kindness, the prescribed burn we were conducting, the stories from afield and the friendships that have bloomed across these lands – a first deer here, a first turkey there – memories that will last a lifetime, could have all been wiped away just like that.

I wasn’t prepared then.  In just about every aspect of life, aside from being a father and hunter, I was failing, my inspiration lacking.  I had taken a part-time job that I wasn’t happy with, yet needed, selling firearms and hunting supplies at Gander Mountain. Years after the fact, I was still mentally struggling with my short-lived tenure at the top of my class in the College of Natural Resources at NCSU and my departure from school altogether.  And of all the things I’ve done that have a stigma associated with it, this is still the hardest of them all for me to talk about.  On my first walk to the stand I’d erected in an American Beech near a cascade on Little Governor’s Creek, then hidden by mounds of privet and greenbrier, I was filled with excitement.  Much like the water I could hear, my thoughts were flowing, the ½ mile walk up and down rolling hills, good for the heart, mind, and soul.  I had a vision of where I wanted to be, of who I wanted to become, and of all the many changes that would serve to make this property something greater than it was.  In the lack of human activity since the 1^stThinning, the logging road that I found myself on had come face to face with the succession of things, briars and young saplings springing forth from just about every inch of ground that had been scarified by the skidder pulling trees from the far reaches of the property.  I thought of the old logging deck I passed on the way in and mused on just how great it could be as a food plot – with something more palatable for wildlife than the 8’ pine saplings and decomposing debris hidden underneath.  I had a similar thought for the flat, linear patch of ground just before my descent down to the creek.  Through the years, that place where loggers had set up their loader to process wood and load trucks headed for the mills, would forever become known as the “Big Chufa”, even though it’s now planted in Durana Clover that will likely remain for many years to come.  And, the “Straight Away” as it would come to be called, is now more green and open having served as a loading deck itself during the 2^nd thinning of the loblolly pine stand in June of this past year.  The logging slash and woody debris from that silvicultural treatment now sits in a 30’ mound waiting for the right weather conditions and a match. Behind it, a small water hole sits filled to the brim and ready to meet the needs of the wildlife that roam this land, especially once summer sets in and other sources dry up.

Just as quickly as all of those thoughts and emotions came racing into my mind, they soon took a backseat to the task at hand. The baseline for today’s burn had backed far enough from the break for us to encircle the remaining acreage.  My wife took over the reins of the UTV, laying down a blanket of water along the fire-line to help keep our prescribed burn from becoming a wild one.  With drip torch in hand, Chance and I finished igniting the area of focus.

I didn’t know it then, that first day when going to view the Adams property back in 2009, but as Mr. Davidson removed the tree that had fallen in place to block the road, he was removing an obstacle that was standing in between me and the person I longed to become.  And, never did I imagine that one of my firearms co-workers at Gander Mountain would end up helping me become a Certified Burner and actually be with me on this burn.  It’s funny – life, and how things sometimes work out as if they were always meant to be.  It leaves you with a surreal feeling that’s hard to put into words.  I guess if I had to try I’d say that maybe it’s not so much about the land and connection I have with it, so much as it could be about the people that I’ve come to know and work for because of that connection, and the positive impact that my visions and efforts as a steward might have on their lives.