Pausing before peering over the final ridge I concentrated on my breathing. If my plan had worked, I’d be in the middle of 100+ elk and I knew the hunt would go down quickly. The wind was blowing perfectly into my face, the snow provided a quiet path up the side of the mountain, and I had found enough of a drainage to conceal myself as I closed the final 800 yards.
Unsnapping my pack and extending the bipod on the Seekins 6.5 PRC I nestled into the snow and inched my way to peer over the final rise. Elk! My plan had worked, and I found myself within 200 yards of the herd. Three cows to my left and two directly above stared in my direction trying to determine what the orange blob was slithering through the snow. The rest of the herd remained bedded or feeding to my right unaware of my presence. The snow was too deep for the bipod, so I positioned my Eberlestock Just One pack for a rest. With my firearm in position, I scanned the herd for a bull.
Cow. Cow. Spike. Raghorn. Cow. Spike. Cow. You get the idea; the bigger bulls were bedded in the trees out of view, and I wasn’t going to get any closer. A 4x3 grazed in the open. I made the call and steadied the scope. KAPOW! My shot broke the silence, and I watched the bull hunch up upon impact. The rest of the herd stood up and bunched together. Stumbling to the snow the bull managed to stand back up, but I was ready. KAPOW! Another bullet hit behind the shoulder sending the bull to his final resting place as the herd fled over the ridge.
Laying my hands on my harvest the silence quickly returned. Snowcapped peaks in all direction towered over me as I tried to comprehend what just happened. It was Thanksgiving Day, and I woke missing my family. However, I came to Colorado to hunt so I headed up the mountain alone in darkness. At first light I spotted this herd in the distance, probably two miles away. I worked in on them for hours before making the final push and having everything come together.
As I soaked in the moment the reality of the situation sunk in. It was just me and the mountain and I had a job to do. After snapping a couple of pictures, I got to work. My knife moved in a motion of familiarity, like I had been there before. Hind quarter, front quarter, backstrap, loin. Flip. Repeat. Once all the cuts were removed I “deboned” the front and hind quarters reducing the weight for the pack out.
Placing the meat in Caribou game bags I moved them away from the carcass on a downed log. Loading a front quarter, backstraps, and loins into my pack I was ready for my first trip to the truck.
As the sun rose over the Rockies the following morning, I was already heading up the mountain covering the 3 miles to the rest of my meat. Freezing temps left the remaining quarters frozen making them difficult to fit into my pack. Two trips were going to be the best plan to get the rest of the elk off the mountain. I loaded up a front and hind quarter and carried it half a mile. I unloaded the meat and went back for the other hind. I leaped frogged the first load half a mile, then repeated.
It was simple and I just got to work. I’d take small breaks to eat a candy bar or some fruit snacks. But I mostly kept moving. Eight hours later I put the last load on my tailgate. A sense of pride overtook me. I got my elk off the mountain.
How This Applies to Business
Silence is hard to find in our everyday lives. Family members, coworkers, and businesses are constantly working for our attention. The result is we focus on urgent matters that are not important instead of focusing on deep work. After harvesting an elk, I had one goal: “get the meat off the mountain.” Cell service wasn’t available, so I had zero distractions. As a result, I was able to enter a state of “flow” allowing me to focus on my number one priority.
“Flow” is the ability to focus on the task at hand. Time doesn’t matter because you are locked in until you reach your goal. There is a clarity of your priority (get the meat off the mountain) and immediate feedback (every step I got closer to the truck). The end is rewarding (I felt like a badass when I set down the final load). Performance of the task feels like second nature creating a feeling of living in the moment (I was present the entire time, loving the grind).
Two tips to enter a state of flow:
1. Tell yourself “This is what we are doing for the foreseeable future, so settle in and get to work!”
2. Eliminate distractions (turn off phone, don’t check emails, shut your office door, ect).
Looking back on my experience the part of my hunt that I’m the proudest of isn’t killing that elk (although that was fun), but being able to work him over and get the meat to the truck…when it was just me and the mountain. You’re going to have to earn it.