The Hunter

"If our father had had his way, nobody who did not know how to fish would be allowed to disgrace a fish by catching him."

Norman Maclean

Chase Wharton’s father was a long-time National Park Service ranger and superintendent and Chase has continued along this path.  We only overlapped at Jenny Lake in the Tetons for a few years, but I could tell he was a rising star.  Chase excels at many things, but I sought him out recently because I wanted to talk about hunting.  He is an exceptionally thoughtful bow hunter.  "There are times when I single out a particular target and follow it through the season.  Track it, learn its many moods.  Develop a relationship with it.  Think about it daily.  (Does it think of me?)" Chase is a purist.  A perfectionist.  He told me that one season, he spent all day in order to take his shot, but something didn’t feel right.  He backed off.  
 

                                 Howie Garber photo
 

I know that his freezer is full each winter, but he intimated that bagging the target, per se, was just the culmination of an important process that he feels necessary.  Time, attention, preparation. It’s what makes each season rich, full.  How do you measure success?, he asked rhetorically.  

We were standing outside his place in Moose, Wyoming in the center of (Davey) Jackson's Hole, Wyoming*.  I slowly turned and panned a 360.  Visually, and in my mind's eye, I could see the Tetons, the Snake River range to the south, the Gros Ventres to the east, the Absarokas and Yellowstone country to the north.  Chase kept staring at the Tetons.When I asked him if he already had a particular elk in mind for this season, he said,

"Elk?  I thought we were talking about couloirs."