So, I made it to camp, I saw two familiar faces now, as Nicole had made it back to camp and greeted me with a huge hug and kind words, I was starting to feel a little more at ease. That didn't last long.
As Michelle and I were starting to construct her wall tent, the mountains began to howl. Lindsey and Anna helped us get the frame together, and the canvas pulled over the frame, which was a chore in itself. But as we started to get the tent staked down, we faced a challenge that quickly left me wondering what in the hell I had gotten myself into. The ground was fairly soft and with every five stakes Michelle had beat into the ground, one big gale wind would swoop through the campsite and not only pull the stakes from the muddy ground but lift the entire tent as if it were a flimsy paper receipt, blowing across a grocery store parking lot. I wrapped both arms around the metal frame and used my entire body, to hold the tent down. Lindsey and Anna came back to help and did the same with every gust of wind. We got to where we could hear the wind coming, yell out a warning of "here it comes" and all brace ourselves firmly on an overhead pole, hanging on with all we had until the wind passed us by. I distinctly remember Michelle saying "Man, I don't know about this" and that if we couldn't get these stakes in the ground, she was going to pack it up and say forget it. But she didn't quit. She ran around feverishly trying to get stakes through the rivet holes and finally after switching to the outside, and the wind giving us a short reprieve, the stakes held. We quickly started moving our gear in and placing the heaviest items on the flap of the bottom of the tent. Less wind was coming in, and the stakes were staying put. We had a tarp that covered the majority of the ground, but we quickly realized that we would be living in a mud pit for the remainder of weekend.
What I didn't realize, is that while we were frantically trying to get our tent together and prevent it from blowing half way across Montana, the larger wall tent that was constructed a day before, was also trying to leave where it was planted. We couldn't figure out why no one was coming to help us, as we were getting our asses kicked by the wind, and it was because everyone else was getting their asses kicked as well. The stakes of the bigger tent were pulling loose from the saturated ground, the snow was blowing, and I think, quite possibly, we all collectively, and maybe only for a split second, questioned if this was all going to work out. We fought through it, the wind had started to lay down for the evening, and everyone seemed to have the situation under control. At that moment, I took a deep breath, and thought to myself, "I can do this, WE can do this".
Once we had moved into our tent, got the stove set up and split some firewood (that was all Michelle), we went "next door" to the larger tent, which housed the food, some camp stoves, and is the place we would come to realize by the end of this weekend, was a place that laughter was frequent, tears were occasional, and truths were powerful. Oh, and I would be remiss if I didn't mention the fact that there were dogs. Yes, if anything was going to ease my anxiety, it was the four-legged, wet nosed, furry critters I love so much. You have no idea how happy I was to see the dogs. Everyone gathered in the big wall tent after coming back from the day's hunt, to give a report of where they went, what the saw, or didn't see, and to have something to eat before settling in for the night. It was a place that you could put yourself out there, you could share your successes and your failures, and all while being surrounded by a group of 17 other women (and five dogs) who didn't know each other, but somehow understood it all.
Friday night, I wasn't nearly as social as I wished to be, but in all seriousness, I was exhausted from the two-day drive, I was exhausted from the nervousness of what was to come, and I was exhausted from almost being blown half way over the mountain, with a wall tent parachute.I sat off to the side of everyone else during our dinner of elk tacos, not really knowing who anyone was, or what to say to anyone. I just observed and listened to what everyone else had to say, just to get a feel for the group. I slowly made my way into the circle of camp chairs, occupied by the other ladies, and we went around the tent, and told our names, where we were from, and what kind of hunting experience we had. I dread these exercises, I mean DREAD THEM. I did my thing and listened intently as the conversation made its way around the circle. I quickly realized that these ladies were cool as shit. I was impressed with how nice everyone was, and I say that only because I don't hang out with women that often, so right, wrong or indifferent, I'm often leery. I wanted to visit more, and suss everyone out, but I literally couldn't keep my eyes open. I glanced around for Michelle, and noticed she had left the tent, so I slipped out, and back over to our tent, thinking she may need help getting the fire going or whatever else you do, when camping in a wall tent. This was all new to me after all, I usually sleep in a five-man tent during the summer months of July and August in sweltering Indiana humidity, not in blowing snow, in the mountains of Montana. I really didn't know what the hell I was doing. I basically just went in the tent a crawled into my sleeping bag, she crawled into hers a short while later and we settled in for what would become a very cold, sleepless night.
After a short break, and chat with the others, I broke away from Michelle to go with another pair of hunters in our group, so she could get some work done. She edits and manages the podcast and social media for MeatEater, and the podcast was to come out on Monday, so some final edits were in order. I moved all of my gear into a fully equipped, off road racing truck, owned and driven by a pretty bad ass chick in her own right, Elise. Along with Elise, who has been a hunter for a couple of years, was a woman who was along as an observer, who had never hunted, but was intensely curious and wanted to experience the process to see if she wanted to pursue hunting further. I would later find out that Charissa had the ability to physically whip each and every one of our asses, as a black belt in Karate. Her sweet disposition and soft-spoken approach left me a little caught off guard when I found out this little tid-bit about her. We followed Nicole into a piece of public ground near a river bottom, to look for some whitetail. She wished us luck, and was off to herd cats elsewhere. There were orange clad hunters all around, as it seemed like we had picked some fairly popular spots to look at for notching our tags.
We moved into the thick timber and looked for some deer sign, showing Charissa what we were looking at and why it might matter. A few different hunters told us on their way out, that they had each caught a glance of a small doe, on the other side of the river. We decided to split up and find a place to sit, close enough we could see each other, but far enough away that we were hunting separately. I went off solo and watched the other side of the river, they stayed deeper in the timber looking the other direction. We sat for probably an hour and a half or so, I saw one small buck running like his life depended on it, while Charissa and Elise didn't see anything other than more hunters. We moved out and headed back to the truck. As we walked back to the truck, we saw five other hunters going the same direction. To say these woods were dealing with heavy hunting pressure, would be an understatement. We all squeezed into Elise's truck to drive back to camp, which wasn't easy with three people and no back seats, But I squeezed in the back anyway. Nicole met us a short way down the road and offered to let me ride with her. I gladly peeled myself out from behind the seat of the truck I was in, and we started back up to camp.
It was nice to have a moment to talk with Nicole one-on-one, because we had only known each other via Instagram, prior to meeting in person, the day before. She was everything I expected and more. Super easy to talk to, smart, and so genuine. I know I keep mentioning that it was hard to accept the fact that I was in this place, with these people whom I either didn't know at all, or simply followed on social media, and held in very high regard, but it was surreal. I came into this sincerely wanting to like these people, who I created in my mind, to be so great, and they for sure didn't disappoint. You always run the risk of meeting someone that you think is better than sliced bread, only to discover that they are complete assholes in person. Well, Michelle and Nicole WERE better than sliced bread, they were like sliced bread that was toasted, covered in marinara sauce, mozzarella and pepperoni. What I mean is, they were the best kind of bread, and they weren't assholes.
After we arrived back at camp, we put our things back in our tents, I took a necessary pee break, which happened to be a fairly easy feat since we had a small building with outhouse style facilities. Look, I'm not too good to pee in the woods, by any means, I do it regularly, but a toilet seat to sit on with four walls around it, was a welcome campsite feature. Nicole's mom, Colette had arrived at camp and brought a bunch of split firewood, which was such a blessing, because the wood Michelle had brought was really dense and hard to split, and I forgot to bring any at all. Again, Michelle was a machine, and was out in the snow the night before with a maul, trying to get all of her wood split, this girl can hold her own, no doubt. But we for sure were happy to load up on wood that was already split. This way, we could keep the stove hot and happy all night, which meant we would be warm and semi-comfortable while trying to get some much-needed sleep. We all made our way to the bigger wall tent, to enjoy antelope steaks that Michelle brought from her husband's recent harvest, and then we had some elk stew, from Lindsey's first ever elk harvest, which took place earlier this fall. We ate like queens, and what made the food so good was the fact that it was meat acquired by a hunter.
the whole experience, while it was happening.
As we moved from person to person, I was started to truly feel connected to these women, it was a foreign feeling for me, but I felt excited for them to tell their stories, as each one was as unique as the person telling it. My favorite high of the day had to do with Anna, who is 12. While she spoke of how it was cool to actually be out looking for the animals for the first time, Nicole followed up with the news that Anna had decided that day, that she wanted to take Hunters Education! That was a high for everyone in that tent, that you can be sure.The stories of hunting with women for the first time and how incredibly empowering it was for different people, was so significant. For some women, this was their first ever rifle hunt. These women were out there, making decisions on where to go, how to go, and what they were going to do once they got there. Some had only hunted with their husbands, or boyfriends or guy friends, or they had simply hunted alone, prior to coming to this deer camp. This experience was new to most of us, but it was a welcomed change and enjoyable experience.
When we made the second loop around the tent, we talked about what started out as, where we fall on the "badass scale of hunting abilities" which very quickly transitioned into simply describing our favorite hunting experience, since becoming a hunter. I spoke of my successful mule deer hunt that had just taken place a month earlier in Wyoming, and of the morning I doubled up on my ten-point buck and doe combo, a few years back. Anna, who was sitting next to me, piped up and said that I was definitely the word she wasn't allowed to say. He mom, Lindsey, laughed and gave her permission to say the word, on this special occasion of deer camp, and while it took some encouraging to get the words out, she suddenly threw her hands in the air and yelled "You're a badass"!!!
Up at 5 am, in the truck and on our way. We were going to get to the sign in box early, hopefully before anyone else, so we could set up in a great spot, for a chance at filling our whitetail doe tags. However, we arrived to find two other trucks already there. We signed in and made our way up to "the bench". There were about 50 deer feeding in the private field just on the other side of the public land we were on, and they didn't seem too interested in coming our way. Michelle and I stayed on the bench, which was basically a long narrow ridge that overlooked a a bit of land, that ran parallel with the river, to one side, or a large ag field to the other. Sarah and Charissa moved deeper into the property to see if they could catch some deer on the move in a drainage.
Just before starting to break down the large wall tent, that held so many memories and will always hold the stories told by these amazing women, we heard a vehicle pull up. Nicole went out to see if it was the Michigan girls and whether or not they were successful. Those of us still in the tent heard what can only be described as a squeal of utter joy. We knew that a tag had finally been filled and our camp wasn't going to be skunked! Courtney, who is one of the coolest, most low key, funny women I have had the pleasure of meeting, had tagged out. She got herself a doe and was beaming. Her hunting partner Amiste was beaming. What you must realize, is that we were ALL beaming, just as bright, FOR her. We all felt like this was a success story for all 18 of us, because we were all pulling so hard for each other. I have never witnessed a group of women hunt so hard, with so much enthusiasm, who would leave before dawn, hunt all day in rotten weather, only to return to camp well after dark. We would anxiously await the last group to come back each evening, holding our breath that they were coming back with a heavy load.
There were tears shed, at Courtney's success, and honestly, relief was felt in some manner by all of us, because let's be real, we know that there are people who would expect us to leave those mountains empty handed. There are those who still believe that women cannot perform in the wilderness at the same level as men, and sadly there are probably some who wanted us to fail, just as a finger wag and an "I told you so". Courtney had just put that to bed.
Breaking down camp and finding a place to put everything was quite a chore. Once again, we all worked together, laughter ensued, of course we lamented about the fact that this was all coming to an end. If you have never been part of a full-blown deer camp, let me tell you, it is a LOT of work. You are in the mountains, you have to take everything that you are going to need, to survive from day to day. You have to take all of your hunting gear, which is a LOT of stuff. And you have to work together with the people you are camping with, which becomes a whole different ball game when you are all complete strangers. But we did it. We set it up, we soaked in every minute of it, we told our stories, we laughed, we cried (well, I cried), we tore it all back down, and we kicked ass every second of this weekend spent together.
By the time everything was packed away, and all of the trucks were loaded, we were losing daylight pretty fast. Much to my disappointment, I was once again behind the wheel of my own vehicle, which meant that I had to drive back down that damn mountain, on that snow-covered forest service road, that I was pretty certain I would die on, before ever making it to the bottom. Strangely, the drive down was pretty easy, that kind goes back to the lesson we all learned from Sarah on Saturday night, sometimes what we fear the most in our heads, actually turns out far better than expected. We made our way back to Jacob's Bench, where Sarah, Amiste and I broke off from everyone else and headed up the trail to squeeze the last bit of shooting light out of our Sunday. I stayed close to the truck, but Sarah and Amiste ventured much further into the property. I watched about forty to fifty whitetails, in the same field that I had watched them earlier in the day, and they still seemed to be pretty content on private land. I lost my light, couldn't see the deer anymore, and made my way back to my truck. I stuck around for a bit, waiting to see if the girls would show up, but after touching base with Nicole, decided to head into the little town that was close by, to meet up with her, Courtney and Elise. I found my way to the bar, and happily sat down to order a cheeseburger and french fries. I felt like a grade A jerk for ditching Sarah and Amiste. I was worried about being out there by myself, with no cell service, and truthfully, I wasn't even sure how to get to town. I panicked, and I left. I regret that.
I ate my burger while sitting in the bar, fully decked out in my hunting gear, muddy boots and all. I was still soaked from the morning sit in the rain, and I made the decision to start my long journey home. I knew that if I hunted in the morning, and if I had the fortune of shooting a deer, it would mean that it would make my departure time way later in the day, which would make me even more tired, and the drive home much more difficult. So, I was leaving, and I would drive as far as I could, before stopping for the night. It was hard to drive away, it was hard to come to terms that I didn't know if or when I would ever see these women again. But it was time to start my drive back to Indiana, and go back to life as I know it, which happens to be pretty alright. Just like that, I was off, leaving with memories I will hold onto forever, and leaving a little bit of myself in the Crazy Mountains of Montana.
Saying goodbye to these women, after experiencing this weekend, in those mountains, in Montana, was really difficult. I don't think anyone really knew what to expect when we all showed up to camp. I don't know exactly how everyone felt throughout the course of the weekend, but I bet I have a pretty good idea. The stories that were told, were told with sincerity. The laughter that was loud and often, was hearty and real. The emotions felt while telling, and listening to, how this experience was so amazing and meaningful to each one of us, because it was so different from anything we had ever done, was moving and inspirational. These women hunted their asses off, these women are strong, capable, unique, fierce and the type of women that ALL people, not just other women, but men too, should aspire to be. These women are hunters. They are women who I will remember for the rest of my life, and if I'm lucky, they are the same women I will see next November, in Montana, back at deer camp.
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