A Wilderness Filled Soul

By Steve Osterholzer

DO YOU HAVE A WILDERNESS FILLED SOUL?

In A Wilderness Filled Soul, you'll read how hunting forged a bond between the author and his family as they chased elk, deer, and moose in the Colorado Rockies.  You'll discover themes that will resonate deep within your soul:  overcoming adversity, determination, tenacity, and being awed by God's creation.

 

They're stories of racing a midnight blizzard to pack an elk off a mountain and the intensity of staring a bull elk in the eye with his antlers mere inches away.  How hunting helped a young boy defeat a deadly disease or a soldier's emotional hunt before deploying to war-torn Afghanistan.  Stories both bizarre and hilarious, like when a dead bull nearly gored the author to death.

 

A dozen of these stories have been published in hunting magazines such as Bowhunter, Bugle, Successful Hunter, and The Mule Deer Foundation Magazine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steve Osterholzer
• Release date: Jan 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224957095

Steve Osterholzer

STEVE OSTERHOLZER is a retired Army Lieutenant Colonel who is now delving into his passions of hunting, writing, and running the nonprofit he founded, taking young men into the wilderness to help them on the road to manhood.  Having hunted public land on Do-It-Yourself hunts for over 40 years, Steve enjoys his career as a professional big-game hunting guide.  You can learn more about him at WWW.STEVEOSTERHOLZER.COM.

Book preview

A Wilderness Filled Soul

Copyright © 2023 by Steve Osterholzer

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

Ebook edition created 2024

First paperback edition October 2023

ISBN 979-8-9890026-0-3 (paperback)

Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version® NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.

Used with permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Cover design by Kirk DouPonce

Cover photo of Steve Osterholzer by Joel Tuning

Edited by Jaimie Taylor

www.steveosterholzer.com

www.ofmountainsandmen.org

Wilderness is not a luxury, but a necessity of the human spirit.

Edward Abbey

Contents

Introduction

The Slaying of Dragons

Brutus, The Backcountry Beast

From Swamp to Sand: A Soldier’s Buck

Bigfoot’s Real

A Rookie’s First Bull

Last-Minute Moose

The Hard Way

Howling Amongst The Hills

Eighth Wonder of the World

Hunter Killed By Dead Bull!

Triple Play

Monarch Of The Mountains

Mountain Mist Moment

Boy Turned Man: An Evolution Amongst the Peaks

Into the Abyss

Solo Hunt-A Rite of Passage

Midnight Maelstrom

Redemption

The Devil’s Cauldron

Bull Between My Boots

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Introduction

What is a wilderness-filled soul? It’s as formless as smoke and hard to put into words. For wilderness is not only what you see, where you are, and what you experience. It’s what lives inside the soul of every hunter and those yearning to become one. And if you’re reading this introduction, that’s you. It’s how you were made. To marvel at creation and stand in awe at God’s masterpiece. Most importantly, to be part of the masterpiece.

Hunters with a wilderness-filled soul hunt for the experience of being truly alive. To feel life itself coursing through one’s veins. Many of us were born hardwired for adventure—it’s in our DNA, it defines us, and it becomes our identity. We seek challenge and risk in proving ourselves not to others, but to ourselves.

We prove ourselves in many ways. It may be confronting our fear in a raging storm, overcoming the physical hardships inherent in hunting brutal terrain, keeping our composure when eye-to-eye with a massive bull elk, or discovering reserves deep within us as we pack out an elk at midnight. In times like this, we learn we’re stronger than we think.

Having a wilderness-filled soul means being part of the paint upon nature’s canvas. To not just see a sunset of flaming yellows and shades of deep rose with one’s eyes but to experience it with one’s very being. To drink like water the emotions the sunset elicits—excitement or serenity, ponderings or wonderings, joy or sorrow. When we become part of the wilderness, we leave the urgency of the real world at the trailhead, exchanging it for nature’s slow pace as we crawl up the mountain.

So what’s my definition of a wilderness-filled soul? Why do I hunt there? I hunt not to live in the wilderness, but for the wilderness to live inside of me.

I cherish my wilderness-filled soul because in the wilderness, I experience God in a very intimate way. He has a magnificent paintbrush and amidst the golden aspens, I’m part of His masterpiece. I hunt to break the shackles of mundane life—to feel truly alive. I hunt to challenge myself, testing whether or not I have the strength and tenacity to not just survive in the wilderness, but to thrive there with a joyful heart. To turn my face skyward with a billion snowflakes coming down and shout, YES!

Do you have a wilderness-filled soul and seek stories that capture this feeling? Perhaps, as I did, you are longing to find this in a book. As a boy growing up in a subdivision in Burton, Michigan, I drank in stories of chasing elk in the mountains. While I was lying there on the floor of my room, these tales transported me to distant mountain peaks. The shrill screams of bugling elk replaced the drone of the cars outside. While I served in Afghanistan, hunting stories were an escape. And finally, throughout my adult life, I’ve yearned to read deep stories of adventure—stories of overcoming adversity, tenacity, grit, and strength. Finding a book combining a great adventure with solid writing is a blessing. I’m hoping I’ve done that here.

Whether you’re atop a massive peak in the Rockies or a small field in the suburbs, I hope that you, too, will have a wilderness-filled soul.

The Slaying of Dragons

The original story was featured in The Mule Deer Foundation Magazine (September/October, 2012) titled The Slaying of a Dragon. It has since been rewritten and retitled.

You can never conquer the mountain. You can only conquer yourself.

– Jim Whittaker

Hunters chase death—at least, that’s what the world believes. And it’s true: Hunting is serious, and when successful, a hunter does take a life. Death is at play. But sometimes hunting gives life. And for my son and I as we took to the field for his first hunting season, hunting truly had been a matter of life and death.

My twelve-year-old son Adam and I were on a mule deer hunt in a Colorado muzzleloader-only area. For Adam, just getting into the field was a victory in the greatest battle of his young life. He’d endured nearly two months in Children’s Hospital for a life-threatening condition, a condition the doctors had urged him to give an identity to fight. Adam chose the dragon as the symbolic enemy to battle, himself being the brave warrior to slay it.

For several years, Adam had been crazy about hunting as he awaited the age when he could join his older brother and me as the trigger-puller. He read every hunting story he could get his hands on, constantly pointed out buck rubs and scrapes on our hikes, and studied tracks to decipher the puzzle of deer movement. A year before he was old enough to hunt, he got to go with his brother and me. I wanted his first experience to be in pleasant weather. Instead, it was some of the harshest conditions I’d ever experienced. Sleet and freezing rain poured down. As I belly-crawled along a muddy ridge with Adam behind me, I worried the experience would forever sour his opinion on hunting. I needn’t have fretted. When I looked back through the sleet, Adam gave me a thumbs-up and an enormous grin. He was hooked.

Six months later, as I looked at him in his hospital bed, I knew he needed a goal. He needed a motivator to help him do what was needed to leave the hospital, and I had the perfect tool—hunting. We’d talked about his first deer hunt for years, and the season now opened in six months. I made it simple. Adam, if you reach the milestones the doctors have set by Opening Day, we’ll go hunting. If not, we’ll spend deer season in this hospital room. It’s up to you.

Adam set his jaw in determination. Hunting was the goal, and nothing would stand in his way!

We spent many hours in his hospital room studying aerial photos, strategizing tactics, and researching new gear. Much to the dismay of the nurses, we hung deer hides and antlers on the wall. Getting out of Children’s Hospital was a journey, and these served as markers to guide and encourage both of us. I needed them almost as much as Adam. Often when the days were darkest, I’d picture him kneeling over his first deer. The dragon always threatened to carry Adam away from us, but we held on, strengthened by dreams of hunting together.

Six months later, watching Adam lace up his new hunting boots before dawn on Opening Day, I knew our season was already a success. Just being here was a victory. Adam, however, wanted more than just being able to hunt—he wanted a deer!

While deer are plentiful in our area, harvesting one would be difficult. Our hunting ground consisted of grasslands mixed with the occasional sage bush. Because of the lack of cover, shots in this country are generally long. We were further handicapped by the area being restricted to muzzleloaders due to a nearby house. Scopes are outlawed during Colorado’s muzzleloader season, but thankfully we could use one since we were hunting during rifle season. Still, it would be a challenging hunt.

The furthest I’ll let him shoot is one hundred yards, I thought. Can I get him close enough for him to down his first deer? I’d never wanted an animal so desperately in my life.

The next several days brought thrilling stalks and several shots, but Adam’s tag remained unpunched. One encounter was particularly memorable. We’d spotted a lone doe feeding in high grass and crawled several hundred yards to get into range. I led with the smokepole while Adam followed with the bipod. Finally, we were only thirty yards away. Adam, hand me the bipod, I whispered. Dad, I lost it! came the whispered response.

My years of Army training kicked in. Adam, I’m gonna get on all fours, and you use my back as a rest like sniper teams sometimes do. He nodded, and I got on my hands and knees. My son laid the muzzleloader across my back and got ready to shoot. With no earplugs and the muzzle only two feet from my ears, I grimaced. Adam steadied the gun, cocked the hammer, and began to squeeze off the shot. Surely he couldn’t miss at thirty yards.

WHOOM! The smoke cleared to reveal the doe casually looking at us before she trotted off.

The following afternoon, we found ourselves atop a massive ridge we’d nicknamed The Spine, and we spotted a lone doe moving along the base. Though I had serious doubts about making the half-mile stalk down the ridge undetected, we decided to go for it. It’s hard to curb the enthusiasm of a young hunter when deer are on the move.

The stalk was a slow one. We moved only when the deer lowered her head to graze. The rangefinder counted down the distance. I can’t believe we may get a shot, I thought as we crawled around a bush. This was it; we could move no closer. Suddenly I saw movement to the right.

Freeze! I whispered. Five deer loped towards us and were closer than the one we’d been stalking. Adam lined up the scope on the largest one. Unfortunately, she stopped while the others continued along a path that would bring them fifty yards from us. I ranged the doe Adam was tracking: 109 yards.

I deliberated, remembering the missed shot at thirty yards the day before. Should he swing to a deer much closer or try for the furthest one he was tracking? I studied my son for the answer. Adam was rock solid, and his breath was calm. The gun was steady. He was composed and focused. Take the shot when you’re ready, Adam, I whispered. I held my breath and rocked back on my heels.

Scenes from the last six months flashed through my mind at a rapid-fire rate. Adam lying in the hospital bed with IVs, and the rhythmic pulse of the heart monitor as he slept. Depressing trips in a wheelchair down hallways, followed by his triumphant walk out the front door. The image of him in his hospital room, frail and distraught, contrasted starkly with how healthy and calm he was now. So much had led to this moment: Everything had led to this moment.

KAWHOOM! The solid whump of the round striking home was music to my ears. Through the cloud of smoke, I saw the doe bounding away. Out loud, I pleaded, Fall down, fall down, fall down! And as the deer crashed into the grass, I tackled my son in a massive bear hug. He’d made the perfect shot.

My words of Adam, you did it. You DID it! went far beyond harvesting his first deer.