I remember my first time. No, it’s not what you’re thinking, I’m talking about my first time listening to a rutting bull elk makIng that sweet September music they are so famous for while I had a bow in my hand. My hair stood on end as the chills spread through my body. My heart rate spiked until I could hear the pulse of blood thrumming in my ears and my mind raced with the possible scenarios of how I could get close enough to slip an arrow home into that bull’s sweet spot. In short, I was hooked and always will be.