Personal Narrative: Muzzelloader Elk Hunt In Navada

On November 12, 2016, Briana Kowalke got her fifth deer, while deer hunting in Nevis, Minnesota. The event occurred during the second weekend of deer season in the evening. The deer was the biggest that Kowalke had gotten in her 8 years of hunting. After the occurrence, Kowalke stated that “Deer hunting has always been a tradition in my family, and it is important to me to continue that tradition.” This was the first deer the 17-year-old got while hunting on her own. Briana’s mother, sister, and cousin were all on scene after the event. The entire Kowalke family was excited to see another successful deer hunter during the 2016 hunting season.

Black Elk plays a major role in retelling the history of the Lakota Native Americans. Having witnessed the Battle of Little Bighorn and living through the transfer of Native Americans to the Pine Ridge Reservation, Black Elk can attest to the treatment endured by Native Americans. Black Elk tells the story of a people injured in war and subject to sufferings for the years to follow.

Oscar Zeta Acosta was a powerful activist in East Los Angeles. In “The Autobiography of a Brown Buffalo,” Acosta describes his life after moving to East LA, where he attended law school in San Francisco and became an attorney and counselor in the Legal Aid Society, helping women who were abused by their husbands. Not finding himself in this daily routine he quit his job and eventually ended up in in East LA where he was greatly involved in the Chicano Movements. He described himself and along with his fellow Chicano race the “Brown Buffalos,” comparing his kind to a herd that meant no harm yet can kill with a stampede. Although, they were no threat they were still slaughtered for the pleasure of others, “hanged as trophies.”

At age 17, a muzzle loader elk hunt in Nevada was one of the coolest things that could have ever happened to me. And a muzzleloader tag for the Jarbidge Wilderness Area 072 was one of the most awesome places for it to happen.

My family and i all went on a hunt for deer but we ran into trouble.There was a elk charging at us.Here is how it all began.

My dad drove us nearly to the top or the mountain, right about tree line. We parked the truck at the opening of a canyon and geared up. We put on our orange and our fanny packs and grabbed our guns. I was using a Winchester 270 and my dad was using a Savage 7mm.

The story of Nicholas Black Elk was one that was reluctantly told, a Lakota medicine man, a visionary of his own sort. Written by John G. Neihardt, Black Elk Speaks captures the essence of what the Lakota culture based its teachings off of, as well as exhibiting who Black Elk really was. When Neihardt began his dialogues with Black Elk he knew which questions to ask, his plan was clear from the beginning. There were choices made by Neihardt that seem controversial, such as why he decided to end his book at the Battle of Wounded Knee instead of continuing through Black Elk’s life and his conversion to Catholicism. The steps taken by Neihardt succeeded in portraying Black Elk’s own story, and the importance of his vision on his life.

My first year of high school I had a great opportunity that helped me grow up into the person that I am today. I had the opportunity to go on a moose hunt in Vermont. Growing up in Upstate New York where moose are a rare occurrence I knew this would be one chance to ever get to hunt a moose and maybe my only chance to ever get to see one. My trip started with a four hour car ride through the Adirondacks to Lake Champlain and then Burlington Vermont. The first day me and my dad woke up after spending the night in Burlington we got up bright and early to meet our guide for the hunt. He lead us to the camp we would be staying at for the next week. We were right on the Canadian border in the northeast corner of Vermont. There was not much in this

This can take hours or even several attempts to see a deer, but for some reason it was my lucky day. We didn’t even have to wait for 20 minutes before we saw two bucks and a doe. My adrenaline has never shot up so fast in my entire life; it was like electricity flowing through me enhancing all my senses. I don’t remember blinking once because my eyes were open so wide taking in all this new excitement. I raised my gun slowly resting it on a shooting board that was in front of me, and looked down the scope to see the bucks a little closer. There was one off to my left about 150 yards away that was only a three pointer. As for the other one, it was a monster buck. I remember counting over 10 points on its rack and it was about 125 yards directly in front of me. I was shaking more than I ever had and I knew it was buck fever. The monster buck was walking across the far tree line headed to my right. It had stolen the doe from the little buck and was taking it to the thick woods out of sight. I was following it with my crosshairs as it walked so gingerly not having a clue on how it was being watched from afar. I had just started putting pressure on the trigger getting ready to take the shot when my scope went black. I looked up and I had let the buck get beyond my vision from the tree that was rooted in front of me. That’s when I knew it was too late and I was disappointed but only for a moment because I knew the small buck was still grazing in the field off to my

James Nelmark of Embarrass, Minnesota is locally known by friends and family for his skill at deer hunting. Nelmark has taken part in deer hunting since he was given his first deer rifle from his great uncle Ed Carlson at twelve years old. Over the years, his experience and love of the hunt has only grown.

Have you ever wanted to go scorpain hunting. I have and it is one of the coolest things you could ever do. It was a hot summer's day in Arizona I was ten and me and my family were visiting my cousins that day we had already went swimming and my uncle was making burgers. When we finished are burgers my uncle and dad said "who wants to go scorpain hunting of course all of us wanted to

It was a hazy morning, It was the opening day of rifle season. We had just sat down and we were getting all settled in, We were hunting on state land just outside of Tawas Mi. We had been hunting for about 3 Hrs and we were getting hungry so we decided to head to town and stop at a restaurant and pick up some cheeseburgers for us to eat for lunch.

Everyone kills, and everyone eats. Not everyone eats what they kill, but these remain two of the most intimate forms of communing with our environment, whether we recognize them as such, or not. Almost 40 000 Americans are killed each year as the result of homicidal, accidental, and suicidal uses of guns; in all, Americans wielding guns intimidate, wound, and kill hundreds of thousands every year. These were the kinds of ideas impressed upon me as I grew up in my urban home: Guns were beasts, as were knives, arrows, spears, indeed anything could become a weapon if held in a particular way. We sprayed each other with the hose instead of water guns, and spent many long hours as a family "communing with nature" through long walks on the

I went deer hunting for the first time when I was 2 years old. My dad took me hunting. As I got older I started to bring my own guns along. Even though they were only toy guns. I would shoot the deer but they would never die.

As he thumbed off the safety, he allowed himself one last, stolen glance at the sculptured head, arching up to grasp an apple. Jamie swallowed and shot. He could remember the sound of the trigger being pulled as the bullet flew through the air and missed the deer. He missed the shot his voice sounded like a flame going up. When he turned he found the deer had left. He didn't know what to think, he thought that he could maybe find another deer or maybe he shouldn't threaten animals life either way he still missed the shot. Jamie felt as if a fireball flew in his stomach as his brain boiled. He was lost and angry at the same time not knowing what to do he got up and went looking in the forest for more deer. As the time passed he didn't find