Articles about hunting experiences wax melodramatic over the romanticism of hunting. The lyrical passages are almost a literary art-form.
For most of the last two weeks I've been freezing my nether regions waiting for a whitetail to come by. Deer hunting mostly consists of going out to a watch (deer runway) about forty-five minutes before dawn and waiting, and waiting and waiting and waiting some more. Generally you sit on a rock in ambient temperatures that hover around freezing. Eventually the rock rises a to a degree or two above ambient by sucking all the heat out of your arse. Rainy days are a special torture.
Yet year after year off I go. This year I got a doe on the second day of deer hunting and spent the remaining days waiting and waiting and waiting...in the cold.