To get so close to elk in the dark timber you can smell them.
A ruffed grouse exploding at your feet as you slink along looking ahead.
The deep-freeze cold of a mountain stream.
Everyone owes it to themselves to get in the "big woods" and hunt SOMETHING. Preferably with a bow, preferably with some time. You'll never be the same.
Thanks, Widomaker, for calling those things to my remembrance.
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