Page 9 - 2021 MAR/APR Outdoor Oklahoma Magazine

2020 CREATIVE WRITING COMPETITION

“ONE DAY, I WILL GET TO PASS ON MY

OWN STORIES”

EDITOR’S NOTE: Each year, the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife Conservation and Okla-
homa Station Chapter Safari Club International join to sponsor a creative writing competition
for Oklahoma middle and high school students. A boy and a girl from two age divisions are
selected winners. Students were required to write essays using the theme “Hunting: Sharing the
Heritage” or “Archery: What I Like About Archery in the Schools and Bowhunting.” Winners
in the age 15-17 category receive a guided antelope hunt in the Texas Panhandle, and winners
in the 11-14 age category receive a hunting trip with Rack Attack Outfitters (or similar) and a
scholarship to the Outdoor Texas Camp. In this issue, Outdoor Oklahoma honors senior category
female winner Braelyn Blasengame, 16, from Stuart High School.

SHARING THE am convinced they did, since hunting is part of my heritage,
and I know mine does. I wonder if it is because their blood
HERITAGE OF runs through my veins.
We quietly make our way to the tree stand that we strate-
HUNTING gically and painstakingly put up months before. I am posi-
tive that every step I take on the leaf covered ground sounds
By Braelyn Blasengame like crackling thunderclaps to every living creature within a
The shrill sound of the alarm wak- two-mile radius. I concentrate on being as quiet as I possibly
ens me, and I hear the sharp wake-up can. Dad doesn’t complain, so I must be doing it OK.
call from my dad from the doorway. We ascend our two-man tree stand and begin the tradi-
“Time to rise and shine girl,” he calls. I roll slowly out of bed. tional waiting ritual. We communicate with our eyes and
I can see that it is still absolute pitch darkness outside my facial gestures as best we can under all our coverings.
bedroom window, and I think about how I am thankful there As dawn breaks, every sound we hear brings us both to
wasn’t a full moon last night. This gives me hope that the big full alert. I try not to be too anxious because I know that it’s
buck that I have been hoping to harvest all season didn’t ven- called “hunting” for a reason and not “catching.” Patience
ture out to graze under the full moon’s light and will be out is the secret to success. My dad has raised me to understand
foraging for his breakfast this morning. that nature is unpredictable and that it’s called wildlife for
After I put on all my hunting clothes, I head to the living a reason. He has taught me to respect nature and all its
room to meet up with my dad who has been ready a while and magnificent gifts.
has been impatiently waiting on me to make my appearance. All of a sudden there is a sound of crashing limbs just
I begin to help him quietly gather our guns and gear. We both behind our stand! My body goes rigid! I do not move a mus-
try not to wake up my mom in all of our preparations. Dad cle! I done even think I breathed for the longest time! Ever
and I hurry because we are both beginning to get overheated so slowly my buck came meandering into the clearing from
thanks to the thick and heavy camouflage we have on. On our behind us and stopped just ahead of our stand. I send up a
way out the door, we grab a breakfast sandwich that my dad silent prayer of thanks and then focus on being ready with
had prepared. my gun if he turns and offers me the perfect shot. The wait-
I am very thankful that my dad is always so thoughtful and ing is torture! The chattering of the squirrels must alert him
prepared because I always seem to be starving by the time we that he’s not alone in the clearing. He remains facing directly
reach the woods. We manage to devour our breakfast on the away from us and, after scouting the area and showing his
way to our hunting land. The southeastern Oklahoma scenery snowy white tail, he dashes away into the dense forest ahead.
flies by in a dark blur as we travel the miles to our destination. I release a huge breath and lower my gun. My dad pats my
On the way, my dad always has great stories to tell about all the stocking cap-covered head and tells me that now I have a
times he hunted with my Grandpa on this same piece of hunting “big buck that got away” story of my own. I look at him hard
land. He tells me of the successes and failures he experienced for a second and then we both begin to laugh.
at my age. I like to tease him about the “big bucks” that always On the drive back home, Dad and I discuss tomorrow
seemed to get away, and we laugh at his misfortune and enjoy morning’s trip back to the woods. I’m optimistic about my
this special time together. big buck returning again. As I look out the truck window, I
As we arrive at our family land, I begin to imagine how my think about how one day I will get to pass on my own stories,
dad must have felt, and his dad before him. I wonder if their along with the rest of the family’s stories, to my children as
heartbeat raced with excitement at the prospect of encounter- we travel down these familiar Oklahoma roads and carry on
ing their “big buck” whenever they stepped foot on this land. I this part of our family heritage with them.

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