Wapiti at Day Break
Something about waking up early... Coffee and the road... The slow hum of mud tires rolling down the highway. I know that a couple of turns and few more miles ill be out in the wild. I can feel the chilly wind in the thew my long sleeve and up gloves. I reach the top of the ridge at the day break no sign of animals. I throw in a pouch of Copenhagen and sip my water. The crisp morning air at sun rise hearing the birds wake up and sing there songs one by one. My short reprieve is ended abruptly my slight motion of what i think is a bird. I turn my head slowly half expecting to see the landing of a small bird or the rustling of a squirrel. The heavy pulse in my head, the trembling of my hands I all to often over come still hits me like jumping into cold water. Wapiti... I have never gotten how strikingly beautiful elk are in the “Magic Hours” of the morning. There light brown betrayed by the first rays of the day make the just as visible as the blaze orange of my hunters vest. I take deep breaths to steady the excitement of this wonderfully perfect morning. I raise my trusty Bushnell's take aim with my eyes before adjusting my optics to my face. As many hunters do, in the excitement of the first sighting of the year. I breath heavenly right over my knockers before I bring them to my eyes. And just like the small bachelor group is gone in the trees before my fogged lenses can clear. And so the hunt begins.