I hadn’t been asleep for too long before I was awakened by a metallic grinding sound. It seemed pretty strange, considering my remote mountain location. The sound stopped after a minute, and I went back to sleep. Then, a few minutes later, I awoke to a clinking noise. I was stumped. I sat up in my sleeping bag and looked around.

As a biologist, most of my interaction with wildlife has been limited to tadpoles — at least until last year. In January, I decided to try hunting for the first time. I wrapped up my last Hunter Education course and asked a coworker, John, if I could go chukar hunting with him over the weekend.

“Just get in there! Keep your head low. And remember to watch out for horns, hooves, elbows and flying pronghorn.” Everyone had advice.
“What have I gotten myself into?” I wondered. I was standing behind Elison, a local hunter and volunteer. This was his tenth pronghorn roundup, and he was just as excited as ever. This was my first roundup, and I was beginning to…