This is an excerpt of one of the stories from my book, “A Woman’s View of Hunting…With Men”.
I came to hunting late. My first husband owned rifles and shotguns. He tried deer hunting a couple of times, he even tried bow hunting once or twice. But I had no interest then to go with him and sit still in the cold and wait for a passing victim. Me – the queen of fidget – no way. Plus, you have to be quiet, well that’s like asking me not to breathe.
After my divorce, I started seeing a man who owned many guns, from handguns to shotguns. He loves hunting, not just any hunting, but upland game bird hunting, more specifically, pheasant hunting. Once a year, for about a week every November he would go with his father and brother and another family to western Kansas to pheasant hunt. For some reason I became slightly intrigued. He would come back exhausted and cranky from spending so many days in close contact with his family, but he told so many stories about someone doing this or that. I was a little jealous.
In the beginning showing an interest in hunting was my way to spend more time with him. I asked Mitch to take me target shooting. I thought I would ease into this slowly. We started with handguns and discovered my first challenge. I’m right eye dominant, but I’m left handed. So I learned to shoot right handed. At first I couldn’t hit the target and I was getting frustrated. After many boxes of shells, I started actually hitting the target. I didn’t hit bull’s eye every time, but I consistently stayed in the circles.
More to come next week.