By Rocky Wilson

Though not a native, I lived many of my younger years in Wallowa County and, like almost everyone else, at least all the boys at that time, was taught the proper use of firearms.

Basics taught in gun safety classes become instinctual.

My hunting career began before it was learned I needed glasses, and I covered it well. It wasnt that I intentionally was tricking anyone, but simply that I had no idea my sight was inferior to that of others.

My first deer kill, at about 100 yards, couldnt be attributed to keen sight, but instead to my ability to drop a doe standing motionless among many of her peers.

Its called flock shooting, and now is something I believe is inherently wrong.

I bagged a few more deer, some of them with horns, but never shot an elk.

One year, though, I knew Id hit pay dirt when I drew a cow tag. Getting friends to take me hunting suddenly was no problem, and soon we embarked beyond the end of Bear Creek Road to snare one.

We probably three of us camped in a large tent and before daylight set out on foot to hike a good distance up a valley floor. As the sun rose, we spaced ourselves evenly along steep terrain to our right and began a drive back in the direction from which wed come.

I was positioned in the middle of the slope and now know well I wasnt placed there to shoot an elk. I was sent into the middle of a thicket to drive critters to the outer edges in hopes my buddies could shoot elk.

The thicket really was a thicket, and before long I found myself crawling through and over thick, entangled brush with thoughts turning toward survival instead of hunting anything.

I sweated, time flew by, I never heard a word or sound from my buddies, and began to feel like the marathon man. Even in my tangled jungle, as the day began to wane and I had absolutely no idea where I was, I knew which direction down was and began struggling that way.

By the grace of God, when I finally did slog out of that thicket at dusk, Bear Creek was a few feet away and our tent, with my buddies inside, only was a few feet beyond that.

Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I lost my cow tag in the thicket and have never hunted elk since.

The fever of hunting so prevalent among my peers did strike deep inside my soul while hunting ducks. Thats probably because theyre so slow that even I could hit them.

I remember coming home on holiday as an out-of-state freshman in college and immediately grabbing my shotgun and heading out to hunt ducks. The fact it was 10 degrees below zero didnt deter me, though the temperature limited the functionality of my gun.

I hunt no longer, and havent done so for many years.

County Sheriff Steve Rogers and others, when speaking of guns, say guns are not the problem, but that the problem stems from those who misuse them.

No argument here.

And, because the misuse of firearms happens on both sides of the law, doing away with or even limiting access to firearms can be frightening.

Had Eve not eaten the apple, things would be totally safe and secure today.

But she did, and universal sin, mistrust, and death have ensued.

Its not that Im a gun advocate, but Id like to be equally armed were Genghis Khan or Hitler reincarnated.

Jabberwock II columnist Rocky Wilson is a reporter for the Chieftain.