Jessica Gray

Camo Girl

Sometimes, bullies aren’t just on the playground. Sometimes, they can be out in the field.

I get along with most of my fellow hunters. I find we usually share a love for the outdoors and take pride in our second amendment rights. We abide by an unwritten code of respect and honor as fellow sportsmen and women. We nod or give a slight wave as we drive by one another on the way out to the field, and even though we have never met, there is a sense of kinship among hunters that I admire. This is true for most hunters, but there are always a few who don’t quite share the same view.

In my 30 years of hunting, I have encountered a handful of fellow hunters who have been nothing less than bullies.

My first encounter was when my husband and I were newlyweds and spent a weekend hunting for cow elk in southwestern Montana. I took a shot at a large cow, heard the thump of the bullet as it hit, saw her slump over and then trot off. I turned to my husband and said I got it!

We walked to where I had shot, saw the blood, and followed the trail up the hill. We knew from the amount of blood that she was hit fatally and wouldn’t make it far. It was then that we heard gunshots. As we crested the hill, there lay my elk and a group of hunters approached us telling us to back off of their elk. My husband and I explained that I had shot it first, and pointed to the blood trail saying they could look over the hill at where the blood trail started, clearly showing that it was fatally wounded by my rifle.

They didn’t budge. They stood there rifles in hand with the meanest looks on their faces. My husband politely asked if we could look for more bullet holes than the one that was obvious. The men refused to look.

We pleaded for them to be reasonable, asked if we could get the Fish & Game to come out, but they refused. We eventually backed down. We walked away and I began bawling.

I know, I know, there’s no crying in hunting, right? Well, we hiked so far and worked so hard all weekend and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that elk was mine. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing.

After reporting the incident to the game warden, he informed me that although not fair, we did the right thing and probably couldn’t prove it was my elk anyway.

The second encounter I had with a bully was when I was hunting on public land with my dad. I was overlooking a draw hoping a deer would come out when two men in a small pickup truck came barreling up the hill. They drove off the road and onto open land and sped as fast as they could toward me, coming within a few feet of hitting me.

The driver got out of the truck, approached us, pointed his finger and said, “I’m going to make your lives a living hell for hunting here.”

I’ll never forget those words. He proceeded to shout swear words and obscenities at us, all the while we were completely stunned and fearful for our lives. I had never met this man before, but knew he had a reputation for trying to kick people off of the public land adjacent to his property.

When he finally drove away, we immediately reported him to the police and to the game warden. He was charged and convicted in court.

In both of these incidences, I remained calm and let the law take care of it. The good news is, that most hunters are far from bullies and these incidents are much rarer than the times I have dealt with honest, law-abiding sportsmen.

In fact, on most occasions, the kindness we have encounter from other hunters makes us love the sport even more — but there is always the exception.

Reach freelance writer Jessica Gray at jessicagraymt@gmail.com.