As I sit here, five days away from opening day of archery antelope here in Colorado, my mind races. Anticipation, excitement, and the realization that I soon will be reunited with the wild landscape that holds the dearest place in my heart, the prairies of the west. When you ask someone what they envision when they picture the west, you will often get stories of mountain peaks, golden aspens, and the overwhelming beauty of the high country. My soul is free and I thoroughly appreciate the mountain landscapes of the west, but my true love lies elsewhere. In this article, I want to shed some light on why I enjoy time spent in the high prairie so much.
Spot the lizard…
The great prairies of the west appear desolate, lifeless, and even boring at first glance. An endless sea of grass and nothingness, shadowed by vast skies, vagrant clouds casting down onto the canvas of greens and golds, begs for attention. For those who slow down, spend time here, and have patience to see the prairie for what it truly is, the reward and fulfillment is without bounds. Over the past several years antelope hunting with my bow has forced me to become familiar with these primitive places, and looking back I am eternally grateful for that.
The waining darkness slowly surrenders itself to a sliver of light on the far horizon. The air is crisp, humid, and clean. The deafening silence is only broken by the faint and drowsy chirps of birds on the prairie. As my boots hit the dirt, the grass, still wet with dew from the evening, brushes against my pants. Opening day is here, and my mind is finally able to relinquish the stress of daily life. My pupils widen to absorb the vast sensory overload I am begging them to ingest. A brilliant, magnificent red fills the horizon as the sun breaks through the twilight. The calm I am surrounded with is contagious, the prairie comes alive and I immerse myself within it. As I leave the gravel of the road behind, the swoosh of the grass against my legs reminds me of hunts prior. Heading along a white sand coulee, the sun now illuminates the waves of green. Chest high willows reluctantly bow to my advances as I move further along the cut in the hillside. These terrain features are plentiful out here, but you would never know it from the road. Rolls, folds, cuts, and dry river beds reveal themselves once you show them you are here for the long haul. This seemingly flat wasteland becomes ever more complex. Learning these nuances of topography is a prerequisite to hunting with a bow and arrow, especially when oftentimes it is truly a game of inches.
The first time I went out to hunt antelope with my bow, I knew it was going to be difficult, but that vague idea was all I had. Learning how to utilize a minuscule change in the contour of the land, I have been able to get within bow range of dozens of antelope. The sheer size of this country is often overwhelming, and it soon will become obvious that antelope are built for it. Walking along the coulee, I soon found myself looking at a nice antelope buck 200 yards away, that was staring right at me. When you can see for miles in every direction at any give time, you need to do just that, LOOK! I learned very quickly that finding a stationary position to observe my surroundings was a much better strategy than trying to absorb the massive amount of country I was presented with.
Spot the antelope…
Thinking back to the first moment I knew these prairies were my favorite, I find myself sitting atop a hill overlooking an enormous valley at daybreak. Ten miles of visibility in all directions, I felt so small. I believe that in today’s world of convenience, comfort, and concrete, that feeling of helplessness, of weakness, of uncertainty is incredibly necessary to remind us that we need to be put in our place every so often. As the daylight materializes, I look through my binoculars and spot an antelope buck nearly two miles away, still bedded from his evening rest. Leaning up against my small backpack, I continue to watch him. Trying to imagine living out here every day, how well he must know every hill, every fence, every feature, then he stands up. I observe his path of travel and decide to try and cut him off. After a 1000 yard sprint out of his view, I soon learn that I am not as familiar as he is with these great grasslands and he somehow gave me the slip. Oh well.
Spending time in the grasslands has given me many things, although archery success on an antelope is not one of them. I have found peace after the loss of my younger sister, solitude from a busy work schedule, calm away from the rush of daily stress, and a sense of belonging thanks to the subtle rustic beauty of a landscape. The glaringly obvious beauty of the high country is simple to see and absorb. When you realize that taking the time to look deeper into a beauty that is not so easy to see, you may be surprised at just how breathtaking the plains can be. Life is everywhere, from the plants, to the bugs, to the little camouflage lizards, to the pronghorn antelope. If you find yourself with a spare weekend, get yourself an antelope tag, and go see for yourself. Happy hunting everyone, it is nearly our time. Welcome home.
