Page 8 - Safari Trails Dec 2020

out foraging for his breakfast destination. On the way, my dad
this morning. always has great stories to tell
about all the times he hunted with
I drag my sleepy body to the bath- his father, my Grandpa, on this
room and take a quick scent-free same piece of hunting land. He
shower to wake up my brain and tells me of the successes and fail-
wash away the scent of home. Af- ures he experienced at my age. I
ter I put on all my hunting clothes, like to tease him about the “big
I head to the living room to meet bucks” that always seemed to get
up with my dad who has been away and we laugh at his misfor-
ready a while and has been impa- tune and enjoy this special time
tiently waiting on me to make my together.
appearance. I begin to help him
quietly gather our guns and gear As we arrive at our family land, I
for our hunting trip. begin to imagine how my dad must
We both try not have felt and his dad before him. I
to wake up my wonder if their heartbeat raced
mom in all of
our prepara- with excitement at the prospect of
encountering their “big buck”
Senior Division Girl hurry because we are whenever they stepped foot on this
tions. Dad and I
land? I am convinced they did
Grade: 11 Teacher: Ashlie Rideneour both beginning to get since hunting is part of my heritage
and I know mine does. I wonder if
overheated thanks to
Age: 16 School: Stuart
the thick and heavy
camouflage we have on. On our it is because their blood runs
through my veins.
Sharing The Heritage way out the door, we grab a break- We quietly make our way to the
fast sandwich that my dad had pre-

pared and wrapped up for us the tree stand that we strategically and
The shrill sound of the alarm night before and a bottle of water. painstakingly put up months be-
wakens me and I hear the sharp fore. I am positive that every step I
wake-up call from my dad from the I am very thankful that my dad is take on the leaf covered ground
doorway. “Time to rise and shine always so thoughtful and prepared sounds like crackling thunderclaps
girl”, he calls. I roll slowly out of because I always seem to be starv- to every living creature within a 2
bed. I can see that it is still abso- ing by the time we reach the mile radius. I concentrate on being
lute pitch darkness outside my bed- woods. We manage to devour our as quiet as I possibly can. Dad
room window and I think about breakfast in the truck on the way to doesn’t complain, so I must be do-
how I am thankful there wasn’t a our hunting land. I don’t know ing it ok.
full moon last night. This gives me what it is, but his breakfast sand-
hope that the big buck that I have wiches always taste so good on (Continued on Next Page)
been hoping to harvest all season these early morning hunting trips
didn’t venture out to graze under with him. The southeastern Okla-
the full moon’s light and will be homa scenery flies by in a dark PG 8
blur as we travel the miles to our