I don't think anything's broken; I've hunted too long to fall into that trap. I'd call it a bad year, but no amount of hunting is ever "bad"; nope, it was simply one of those off years--way off.

It hadn't started off so badly, arrowing a nice gobbler toward the end of the spring season left the impression that I was on my way to many happy trails in '06. A summer of testing several bows plunking 3-D targets, tuning broadheads and monkeying with new gizmos and widgets left me feeling pretty good. But the trail went cold come fall.

First, there was the whitetail/mule deer hunt in Wyoming. No bucks--not a shot at one--while antelope were everywhere, yet we didn't have tags! Then there was the moose hunt in British Columbia, a trophy quest in an area with a three year waiting list for a rut hunt--10 full days of hunting without a shot, seeing just one trophy (about half a mile away) and calling in a couple of baby Bullwinkles. That was about all there was to tell from a 14-day commitment, a huge chunk out of my fall, earning me little more than close encounters with a black wolf and a large grizzly.

I arrived back home in time to finish fall chores and get out hunting local deer, but the results weren't much better. I passed on a young 10-point in late October and never got a chance at a bigger buck before our state's carnival-like firearms season opened. I got out late in the season, but the mild weather took the deer out of their dire-weather patterns and turned them nocturnal during what are typically prime weeks to hunt winter deer.

I know that a lot of readers think editors, writers and TV personalities get to go on nothing but great hunts. That perception is probably best bolstered by our tendency to show the rosier side of things, the successful stuff. I mean, documenting monotonous hours on stand or on a cold trail is hardly sexy stuff. But here's some comfort for those that had less than outstanding bowhunting this year--you're not alone! As a matter of fact, you never will be alone, because everyone has to put in their time the same way.

My friend Maui Jeff accompanied me on the BC moose hunt, so we had plenty of time to dissect the varied fortunes of those who hunt with stick and string. We've both shot good animals in our time, and have had our trials too, and 10 days staring into mostly blank boreal forest gave us more than enough time to ruminate about lofty subjects like hunting success, and luck, or lack of it.

"I don't think so and so, and so and so (enter hunting personality of your choice here) are really better hunters than I am," Jeff offered after another quiet evening in mooseless country while we huddled near a barely warm stove and cold rain pelted the roof of our shack. "They just go to better places."

Only partly true, I thought, because I've known really great ones, exceptional hunters. "I'd take that a step further," I replied. "I think bowhunting is about opportunity, and lots of it. If you don't hunt where there are numbers of whatever it is you're after, odds are you're not going to get that killing chance before the clock runs out."

"Luck's a big part too," Jeff countered, and we shared a few tired head nods and grunts of agreement before climbing into our bunks.

And so, as the rain turned to sleet and snow and the lantern flickered and the clock ticked down on our fruitless quest for moose, Jeff and I began planning our next trip to the next good place. Yep, it's going to be good.