Some people live for the winter, when they can strap a pair of planks to their feet and rocket down a snow-covered slope at break-neck speed. Others look forward to the spring. These are the people who are most likely to utter the phrase, “Spring is a season of rebirth and renewal.” Crikey, turn down the gain on the sap amplifier. And another group is never as happy as they are in the summer, broiling their skin until it’s a nice golden-brown.
There are parts of all these seasons I enjoy. But if I had to pick a favorite season, it would have to be the fall. Fall in Wyoming has a little bit of all the seasons. We have ninety-degree temperatures one day, followed by eighteen-inch dumps of snow and near-zero thermometer readings the next. We get rain and the green grass that comes with it, and we get the vibrant colors of the changing leaves.
But best of all, we get hunting season.
I’m not a blood-thirsty killer. In fact, I hardly ever come home with meat. I just like to be out in the wilderness with everything I need for survival on my back.
There’s also the feeling of being on a hunt. You can’t duplicate it doing anything other than hunting. It’s a sensation that comes only from knowing you’re stalking your quarry the way an alpha predator should, or from knowing at any moment, you could trip on a rock and impale yourself with a three-bladed Muzzy broadhead. All those things add up to a delicious mixture of adrenaline, excitement, anticipation, and maybe even a little bit of fear.
For most Wyoming hunters, the season really gets started in October. That’s when the bulk of the rifle seasons open. So get your work done now, and then get out there and get hunting.
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