Eva Shockey - Taking Aim: Daring to Be Different, Happier, and Healthier in the Great Outdoors

Nobody says a word. A reverent quiet cradles the great Yukon stretching around us. I walk silently, strategic with every step of my well-worn hiking boots, trying to avoid dry twigs and leaves. Cool wind rustles the scrub willow. Were tracking the long, narrow grooves of hoofprints freshly pressed into the soft ground. Theyre each the size of my hand from wrist to fingertips. I know hes close.

Step.

Pause.

Step.

Crunch.

My eyes scan the landscape, which swells from deep valleys where streams bubble to rolling hills topped with skinny willow runs. Where is he?, I wonder, hoping to glimpse the telltale, satellite-dish-like antlers sticking out of the brush. Walking through the six-foot-tall willow grove makes it hard to spot anything.

But then I hear him.

The low grunting is unmistakable, maybe only a hundred yards away, but I still cant see anything through the willows. I make my way through the scrawny brush, watching, waiting. Careful not to let a branch smack me in the face or a twig snap underfoot, I inch ahead, following Dad, who is doing the same. Finally, I catch a glimpse of massive antlers. The bull moose is slowly making his way up a small hill. Its him. My heart beats faster, the adrenaline kicking in. As the bull continues to make his way up the hill ahead of us, more and more of his ungainly and massive brown-haired body comes into view.

About seventy-five yards away now, the moose stands tall. Swaying back and forth as the wind crackles through the trees, he lowers his head, his grand spread of antlers disappearing into the brush. Dad cups his hands together over his mouth and grunts softly, expertly mimicking another bull trying to encroach upon territory thats not his. If it works, the moose were watching will come closer, intent on establishing dominance.

But the moose doesnt budge.

It wasnt that long ago that I would have stood on the same spot, watching the same animal, without a clue about what I was supposed to do next. But on this day, I know what to do. The window of opportunity is closing. I have to act fast.

I set up the shooting sticks, resting my rifle in the crook of the V. Shooting with accuracy and precision isnt easy even in the calmest of situations, let alone when youre staring down a gun barrel at a live animal. In order to have the best chance at a good, clean shot, its best to rest your firearm on something, whether a mound of dirt, a tree limb, or a backpack. Shooting sticks (the brand I use are called Primos Trigger Sticks) do the job.

With a deep exhale, I release tension from my body, counteracting the adrenaline now rushing through my veins. With the crosshairs settled behind the bulls shoulder, I squeeze the trigger in slow motion. The shot cracks the air, rolling echoes all around and sending shivers up my spine. Then, silence. I see only willow.

The shot is good.

As a little girl with dreams of becoming a ballerina, never would I have imagined that Id be scaling rugged mountains and glassing deep valleys for a fifteen-hundred-pound bull moose. And I couldnt have imagined the thrill of it. Not in my wildest dreams.

Ive always loved the maxim Man plans. God laughs. Its how this story begins. Ever since I can remember, Id gone on hunting trips with my father, a world-class hunter and creator of the TV show Jim Shockeys Hunting Adventures. A pioneer in the hunting-media industry, Dad has traveled the world to film his adventures. As a professional big-game outfitter, he owns the guiding rights in several exclusive hunting territories across Canada, so he and others from our family business guide fellow hunters on excursions of their own. I was proud of Dad, but that didnt mean I planned to join his ranks. I didnt get hunting and had zero desire to even try it. My friends thought it was plain weird to abandon the convenience of a grocery store and the comforts of home to spend days in the wilderness, cold, wet, and tired, for the mere possibility of harvesting an animaland, frankly, so did I.

But once I got it, I never looked back.

Today, hunting is one my passions, handed down to me through generations of hunters on both sides of my parents families. I was fortunate to go on many hunts with my moms father, Grandpa Len, and Dads father, Granddad Hal, before they passed away. These men truly appreciated and exemplified the joy and passion of hunting and filling their families freezers with wild game. Not to mention that they had a lot of fun in the process. It was an honor to share this pastime with two great men.

Contrary to what I thought at first, hunting isnt easy. No one warned me how uneventful some hunts would be. Or how bitterly cold. Or how much hiking might be required. Or how much Id need to practice shooting, whether with a gun or a bow. I, too, assumed, much to my navet, that a hunt was simply about killing an animal. Period. End of story. In this book, I share how I came to realize that the harvest is but a small piece of a larger puzzle. Hunting encompasses every single moment leading up to the one in which you take the shot. Like the training, the hours upon hours spent practicing your craft. Like the time and the money that go into pulling off a successful hunt. Like the incredible memories made. Like the fresh air of the great outdoors that invigorates you and forces you to breathe, really breathe. Hunting is also about the moments that follow the shot: the skinning, the gutting, the butchering, and the cooking of wild game that eventually satiates your senses with every mouthwatering bite, making the bone-chilling cold, the achy muscles, the grime, and the fatigue all worth it.

I read somewhere that An arrow can only be shot by pulling it backward. In other words, anything worth doing in life will come with resistance. You may hunt. You may not. But if youve worked hard to achieve a goal or a dream or are right now in the midst of fighting for or striving for something you believe in, you can relate to the challenges Ive faced. You know what its like to go up against the status quo. You know the discipline required, the struggle that follows. You know the detours. You know the critics who tell you to quit or that youll never make it. You know the self-doubt that creeps in. And one day youll know what it feels like when you wake up and realize that youve created your own life, your own future, and left your own mark on this world.