...to send them off to the tundra for a week with firearms.
This year marked the first extended hunting trip for our two biggest boys. There was some serious male-bonding going on up Denali Highway for caribou hunting this year.
For their ages, they've spent a considerable amount of time target-shooting. Normal, for born-and-raised Alaskan boys, I guess. The plan was for Wise Bobcat to take the shot at the caribou.
Turned out, it was an approximately 200-yard-shot, downhill. He scoped it out and then decided he was not comfortable with the shot. I'm so glad he has the confidence and honesty to make such a judgment-call. That beautiful and tasty critter still made it to our freezer though! (WARNING: dead animal photo)
Eaglet packed a .410 shotgun, looking for small-game. He finally came across a Spruce Hen, and discovered the difference between target-shooting, and hunting. It's with a HUGE grin that he re-tells the story: "It's SO different shooting at a real animal. I was just SO EXCITED it was hard to aim!" Here he is, whittling on a break:
These guys are really growing up. I love watching them try out their fledgling wings with new experiences...but of course, this requires me to exercise my own fledgling wings...with letting go. I'm so thankful they're in such good Hands. He will watch over their lives--over their coming and their going--forevermore.
This mama is so thankful for that.