This whole thread reminds me of a story I occasionally tell. When I was a kid and home for Christmas break from college, my dad visited a nearby friend and brought me with him. That guy had an elk and a caribou mount above his fireplace, and I was mesmerized...if I only had a caribou mount like that, I would be happy, I thought. Fast forward...I am in the army stationed in Alaska. I shoot a caribou! I was thrilled, but then realized I wouldn't be happy until I shot a Dall sheep. Shot a few of those, but then I said to myself, if I shoot a grizzly bear, I will be happy. Memorial Day weekend of 1987 I drove to the Crystalline Hills, set up camp, glassed a grizzly, hoofed it to the 2 miles where the bear was, and popped it with my .338 Win Mag. PCS'd back to the US and ended up getting out of the army. Now, I thought to myself, I need to get that elk that my friend's dad shot. Believe it or not, on my first day, I shot a 6x6 that was popping a sixth point on one side. I had arrived! But then it dawned on me happiness was right around the corner, if I would only hunt Africa. I was filled with hunter's lust just thinking about having a big kudu and gemsbok on the wall. When I was 35 I made my first hunt to Africa and shot a 56.5" kudu with spirals so tight his horns measured 4 feet in a straight line. But wait! When I heard about hunting in Mongolia, I had to go or I would never be happy. I shot a 45.5" ibex, large by any measure. Now I was happy...until I realized I had not hunted dangerous game. Off to Tanzania, where I shot two Cape buffalo. Then it was an African lion, an elephant...you see where this is going...hunting is kind of like accumulating wealth. You think you will be happy if have $XYZ in the bank. Then you get that, and you think, no, I need $ABC to be really happy.
I wouldn't trade my hunts for anything, but to do them, I focused on myself. Every vacation was spent hunting. I started my own company simply because it the only way I would be able to go on big hunts; if I failed, I would be in the same position as if I kept working for a company: no big hunts. Hunting, and long range shooting, has been the focus of my life, above all else.
On my first Tanzania hunt I shared a camp with a man named Henry Mills. For those of you from Wisconsin, you know the company he started: Mills Fleet Farm. One night around the campfire Henry was on his sat phone and looked a bit distraught. I asked him if he was ok; he said that he had been talking with his son, who was supposed to join him on his 21 day big four safari, but elected to stay back because they were putting in new supply chain software. I said, "Well, at least you have someone watching over the business when you are in Africa!"
Henry looked at me forlornly and said, "John, I don't know how many African hunts I have left in me - this is probably my last one.
I really wanted my son to join me."
It dawned on me then, that this fabulously wealthy guy (he would later sell Mills Fleet Farm to KKR for over a billion dollars), who could afford to go on any hunt in the world, who was right then on many hunters' "dream hunts," was profoundly sad. I will never forget that night.
Take it from me, a 64 year old guy who has been around the world hunting - do not underestimate the joy in hunting whitetails with the "guys" every year, a morning spent chasing birds or small game, or calling predators. Or taking your daughter to Disney World.
