BUILT IN WILD PLACES

I’ve always had the privilege of saying, “I grew up in a family of hunters.” Hunting was part of my childhood, something I was introduced to at a young age and had the opportunity to learn along the way. But as I’ve grown older and become more involved in the hunting community, I’ve realized just how many people—especially women—weren’t given that same opportunity. Many grew up watching their fathers, brothers, or other men in their lives head out hunting while they stayed behind, never invited to tag along or taught the skills themselves. Today, many women are taking that step to educate themselves and becoming hunters, which I think is incredibly powerful - choosing to begin simply because you decided it matters to you.

Growing up in a family reliant on hunting, I look back at my 12-year-old self, and I am proud of her for wandering into the forest alone to hunt for blacktail deer and Roosevelt elk. The tall evergreens and the thick, lush ferns became a place I escaped to as often as I could. In the wild, I felt an unspoken safety net. A space to calm my nervous system and become part of something much bigger than myself. I didn’t understand my actions during those young years; I just knew that being out in the wild made me feel good. Later in life when my suppressed memories of sexual abuse came flooding back and I dove into therapy; I started to connect the dots. Wild places gave me a space to regulate my nervous system. When I started to feel fight, flight, freeze and fawn, I always chose flight, running into the rainforest. My body knew exactly what I needed and became my pilot when my nervous system perceived danger.

Harvesting my first deer and elk alone behind the house ingrained a new confidence I needed to get through my teenage years. Each year I counted down the days until hunting season. Some may say I became obsessed, and they aren’t wrong. All I could think about was the smell of the rain, the soft mud under my boots, following a fresh track, and the anticipation of what I’d see. As I grew into an adult and moved to Colorado from Washington, I continued those solo hunts as I pursued mule deer and the rocky mountain elk. I was now hunting with a bow and was determined to call an elk in on my own.

One early fall morning I hiked into an area I knew well and made it to a series of meadows just as the sun was rising. I let out a squielly and sharp pitched bugle, not expecting anything to respond. A bull answered back just over the rise.

My heart beat loud in my chest as I moved in closer towards the direction of the call. I was surrounded by sage brush, most of it as tall as me. I knocked an arrow as I could hear him coming in, his breathing and his heavy hooves underneath his massive body. Through the sage I got a glimpse of his antlers and I pulled my bow back, ready for him to step into the clearing. The sunrise was casting a warm orange glow on everything it touched and the sky was slightly pink. As the bull stepped out at just 15 yards his antlers were filled with the sage brush he had just been raking them against. The air was cold enough that I could see his breath escaping his nostrils and drooling mouth.

Stopping in his tracks, his dark eyes met mine, but his vitals were behind a bush. I didn't have a clear shot, and I needed him to take two steps so my arrow could fly and hit its mark. Time stood still until the wind on the back of my neck sent him into survival as he ran off.  I stood there in awe of what just happened. This was a moment I had always dreamed about, and I had just witnessed it all on my own. An intimate and life-changing moment I can only tell others about because being there alone, it was all mine to own.

These experiences became the building blocks to gaining my confidence and my desire to have more of those experiences only grew with each hunt that unfolded. As my skills and confidence grew, so did my desire to take hunting beyond my own experiences. I realized I wanted to become a hunting guide—not only to spend more time in the field, but to help others learn, grow, and experience the challenges and rewards that hunting had given me.

I happened to meet a couple guides at a bar one night. When I told them about a successful solo mule deer hunt, they welcomed me into the guide world. During my first couple seasons of guiding I told myself I had to live up to certain expectations - as if I needed to prove my position with the outfitter. I wanted so badly for my clients to fill their tags and when they didn’t, I was hard on myself for not being good enough. It took my friend Bill to tell me, “this isn't a competition. Just go out there and do what you know to do. You're a good hunter, Draya, trust in it.” And so, I did, and every year of guiding since then gets better and better.

While I have been lucky in my success rate with my clients, I find my responsibility lies in giving my client a good experience. It’s not just about filling the tag rather it’s all the details from their time on the mountain that really matter. I have been very fortunate to have gained some authentic friendships with clients, and because of those friendships, I am reminded that time together on the mountain creates a bond unlike any other.

The mountain often gives us more than we ask for, and when you face those challenges and adaptations with a positive mindset, you will walk away a successful hunter.

If I were to give advice to someone who wanted to become a more confident hunter, my answer would be simple. Get out there and learn by doing. Take the mistakes and turn them into lessons. Each time you step in the field is an opportunity to learn more about yourself and to become more self-reliant. It’s an opportunity to connect with yourself and the ones you pursue wild game with. Wild places are the ultimate classroom and will teach you more than any other learning platform ever can.

You can follow along with Andraya's adventures on Instagram and through her What's Your Wild site.