With our nephew at his side, Brett shot a cow elk. It was our nephew's first elk hunt and Brett wanted it to be memorable. Wading through the snow and sagebrush, the two hiked out in silence.
The posse returned early the next morning to pack out the meat. Brett's brother and his son joined them. A campfire flickered as they quartered the elk and loaded it onto the polk sleds.
These mountains were where their great-great-grandfather had hunted 100 years before. A rite of passage; this is where boys became men.
Both wisdom and camaraderie were shared that day. The boys were taught how to make clean shots and the proper way to gut an animal. Exhausted, they made their way back to the truck.
Brett said goodbye to our nephew today, but not before making plans for their next adventure. On that trip, our nephew would do the hunting--just as so many generations had before him.