It's a strange thing, the internet. You can use it to look up facts, you can look up directions for where you are going, you can shop, and you can make plans to drive 23 hours over two days, to meet up with roughly twenty women you only know from Instagram or Facebook, who all just happen to have rifles with them.
So, I did a thing, and if you follow along on social media, you know this, but posting pictures and a few words of admiration for the thing I did, along with these other women, cannot possibly express the meaning or the emotion that resulted from a few days in the Crazy Mountains of Montana.
This crazy adventure started back in May, when I finally met Michelle (Jorgenson) Chandler in person, in Columbus Ohio while attending the MeatEater Live Podcast. Michelle and I were social media friends, mainly due to me being a hardcore follower of all things MeatEater, her being employed by MeatEater, and learning about Michelle through that, but eventually just finding that we had similar interests and we kind of realized we could be friends, all MeatEater things aside. Michelle mentioned that Nicole Qualtieri might be putting together a deer camp for women in Montana, and that I should think about going. I laughed, because that seemed like something that wasn't realistic for me, for a lot of reasons.
I had been to Wisconsin in May to turkey hunt at Doug Duren's farm, I knew I would be getting back from our Wyoming hunting trip only a month before this "camp" might happen, so the expense of a third trip really worried me. It was in Montana for crying out loud, I had never been on a trip that far from home by myself, and while it sounded like a dream trip, it was a little scary. I told Michelle that I would have to talk it over with Chance and see if we could make it happen, but inside, I was pretty certain that it wasn't going to be a reality.
A few months later, I received an invite to a group page on Facebook from Nicole. At that moment, I got butterflies in my stomach. I was excited but hit with instant disappointment. Once again, I didn't see this trip as a reality, I didn't think there was any way I could swing this, nor did I think that I deserved it. I have been hunting for six years prior to this fall, I feel like there are times that I really know what I am doing, and there are times I feel like it's my first day out. I suppose I suffer from a bit of "Impostor Syndrome". I have people tell me that they think I am some kind of badass, because I'm a woman and I hunt by myself, and because I have had some successful hunts. But in my mind, I don't feel accomplished, I fear that people will think I am a fraud. Going to this deer camp in Montana would make me vulnerable to being "found out", they will discover that I don't know shit about shit, and it will be awful. I was hesitant to even bring the camp up to Chance again, as I had laughed it off when I mentioned it to him after meeting Michelle in May. But I mentioned it, jokingly, and Chance responded, "You're going aren't you"? My jaw dropped. I explained the expense was something I didn't think we could deal with and he came back with "We'll figure it out, you can't pass this up, it may never happen again". At that moment, I realized that I was going to Montana. The butterflies were back in my stomach.
Let the planning begin! I started looking at possible routes to Bozeman, I started looking at non-resident deer license prices, I bought a AAA membership, I started looking for a hotel to stay at, on my way out there, I was checking things off the list that Nicole had provided, of items we might think about bringing...for the love of Pete, my mind was going twenty different directions. On top of that, Chance and I were trying to get ready for our annual Mule Deer hunt in Wyoming. Which brings up a funny part of this whole story. Dan and Denise, our Wyoming friends and hosts, had concerns. They were worried about me driving to Montana, a twenty-three-hour drive, alone. Dan had the atlas out, looking at my possible drive and sharing concerns about not just the drive, but also the bears in Montana. Denise even offered to pick me up at the Denver airport if I would fly there from Indianapolis, and then give me one of their trucks to drive the rest of the way to Bozeman. And finally, Dan asked the all-important question "how much do you really know about this lady putting this thing on"? And oddly, I could only say "Well, I don't really 'know' her per se, I just know her from Instagram". His look said it all, he gave me the concerned parent look. I insisted all would be fine, I could make the drive, I felt pretty comfortable about the lady putting the deer camp on and yes, I was taking bear spray.
I started packing a few days before I was scheduled to start my drive. I now had two lists of suggestions of what to bring, but I was still freaking out. I was to leave on Thursday morning, my goal was to be pulling out of the driveway by 4 am. If you think for a second, I wasn't excited, you should know that I packed my truck on Tuesday night, two days before I was to leave. Yeah, I was ready.
The alarm sounded on Thursday morning at 3:15 am, I got up, I showered, took the dog out, I woke Chance up and half-jokingly told him that if I was eaten by a bear, he needed to know that I loved him. Then I was out the door. This was the day I didn't think would be possible, this is the day I ventured out to head west, to drive 16 hours, to my first destination, Spearfish, South Dakota. And let me just say, South Dakota was beautiful. The only downside to the state that I can think of, was that I think I saw about 50 dead deer along the interstate, as I was driving through. I decided while approaching the west side of the state that maybe I would swing through the Badlands National Park.
I had made good time to that point, I had never been to a National Park in all of my 42 years, so why not? I hit the exit and committed.
Friday morning, I started out around 5 am, in the dark, once again. I swung down through the northeast corner of Wyoming, following Interstate 90 through Gillette, and then up through Sheridan. It was then that day started to break, and I caught my very first view of the mountains. I don't know where I really was, but there were mountains, and they had snow on them, and they were the biggest things I had ever seen. I really don't know what happened or where the emotion came from, but I was overwhelmed. I felt inspired, I felt joy, I felt strong, I felt independent and I felt some sense of redemption. I don't need to dive deep into this, but I spent eleven years in a marriage riddled with domestic violence. I had my ass handed to me regularly, I also took a verbal beating almost daily, but somehow, I made it out. It took me a long time to do it, but I survived, and I had to somehow get my life back. In a situation like that, the abuser leaves the abused feeling like dirt, worthless, insecure, with zero self-confidence or self-worth. It has been almost 8 years since I walked out of that house, and only in the last year, have I felt like I am returning to be the person I was once was, but very different at the same time. Different in that I am stronger because of the situation, different in that I am quicker to take chances now, and do things I would have never imagined myself doing prior, because I suppose I feel like I lost so many years that should have been the most exciting years of my life, and I can't afford to lose any more. So, in that moment, I felt like I had made it, I had survived and I was going to do some amazing things with the rest of my life. Damnit, I was in the midst of something amazing, right then and there.
I should mention that I made a phone call after I pulled myself together. It would be ridiculous to leave one very important factor out of this whole situation, and that is Chance. When we started dating a little over 6 years ago, he mentioned to me that I should learn how to hunt. I thought he was crazy, I had no desire to do so and yet, he persisted. Many have heard the story, so I'll keep this simple. He took me, I was intrigued, I became determined, and then pissed, and then frustrated, and then I killed my first deer, all in a matter of 6 weeks. I was a hunter. If Chance hadn't encouraged me, if he hadn't taught me (although through a very tough love method), I would have never found this passion that has changed my life. If he hadn't have encouraged me to hunt, I never would have experienced some of the most amazing moments of my life. And if he hadn't have encouraged me to hunt, just seven hunting seasons ago, I wouldn't be on the road to a deer camp in Montana, that would again, change my life. I called him and went from speaking in an intelligible fashion while thanking him for making all of this possible, to sobbing and then him telling me to get off the phone and pay attention to the road before I crashed. Funny side-story that hilariously ties to this whole bigger story about going to meet people whom I really don't know, is that Chance and I....we met online.
I left Bozeman and followed Nicole's (and Jenn's) advice by taking the "scenic route" out highway 86, so I could get the full Montana experience as I headed toward the Crazy Mountains where camp was set up. It started a rainy/snowy mix not long after I let town and almost immediately, I lost cell service. Unfortunately, I forgot to download my maps on my onX Hunt app, so I had to go off of memory and the occasional forest service sign to find camp. Nicole had mentioned to me on Thursday afternoon, on a phone call that the roads up to camp were in great shape. After driving up the mountain in a slushy snow and mud, I considered having a serious conversation with her about what her definition of "great shape" was, and how my definition differed. I have to admit though, the scenery was stunning.
I grew concerned as I pulled into camp as there was one wall tent and one truck, but I didn't see any people. I pulled up behind the truck, nervous because I couldn't have called anyone had I wanted to, and I thought for a moment I was lost. Then a girl got out of the truck and smiled. I rolled down my window, and like a dork, said "Am I in the right place"? Jesus Cindy, how does this girl even know where you're supposed to be. Awkward moment number one, out of the way. She assured me I was, she introduced herself as Lauren and told me everyone was still out hunting. She told me she was sitting in her truck as to not burn through all the firewood in the tent while everyone was gone. I told her I'd stay in my truck too, to decompress from the drive for a bit. After a while we got out and went into the tent to start a fire in the stove. Another lady, Lindsey, and her daughter Anna, showed up soon after and activity picked up steadily after that. I heard a truck pull up and it was Michelle!! A friendly face made me take a deep sigh of relief. I don't know why, I have talked to her all of about 10 minutes EVER, but she made me feel at ease. We hugged, said we were happy to see each other and jumped right in to setting up her wall tent. Good God, that wall tent.
TO BE CONTINUED.........................
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