BY WILL HAWKINS

As a young boy , I had the opportunity to share many outdoor experiences with my family . I got to tag along on many a hunting trip with my dad and the cast of characters that were his close friends and oilfield buddies . But there was one trip that I never got to experience , at least not as a child : his annual pilgrimage to West Texas to hunt mule deer . As a small business owner , my dad didn ’ t take many vacations ; our adventures would typically be a quick jaunt or a work-related excursion . When he packed up to head West with his jeep in tow , I always imagined it was special .

My family is fortunate to have lifelong friends . These include my dad ' s best friend Tommy Herring and Tommy ’ s brother Bubba , who grew up working ,

rodeoing and hunting , and who took their first West Texas hunting trip in the mid-1980s . So when a spot finally opened for me in 2015 to join to take down some mule deer – a cool 30 years after the trip ’ s inception – I made sure to clear my calendar .

Even as a 38-year-old , I didn ’ t know what to expect . I had always wondered why my dad traveled so far only to come back empty-handed . But when I discovered the treasure that is nestled in the vast expanse of West Texas , I began to understand .

I have since developed a profound appreciation for the unique blend of rugged landscapes , rich cultures , and unparalleled camaraderie shared with friends and family during our hunting expeditions . West Texas , with its sprawling deserts and sun-soaked mountains , holds a special allure that ’ ll stop you in your tracks , alter your priorities , and instill in you a new sense of purpose . The landscape is a testament to the resilience of nature in the face of harsh conditions . It ’ s as stern as a knife ' s edge , soft as pastel chalk . The endless horizon , punctuated by distant peaks , changes kaleidoscopically as we bounce around seemingly endless acres in our jeeps .

The cultural mosaic that is West Texas only adds to its appeal . Close as it is to the border , the influence of Mexico is palpable , especially on the tin and paper plates at our hunting gatherings . The aroma of sizzling onions and peppers , the savory beef tips for carne guisada , the flavors of freshly prepared salsas , and the warmth of tortillas straight off the burner are just as memorable as the activities in the field .

Our forays near Marathon are not merely the pursuit of game ; they are a communion with nature , an exploration of ancient skills passed down through generations , a testament to the enduring bonds of kinship . And the challenges they present forge among us what become the bedrock of unforgettable memories .

I have recently endeavored to transform these memories into art . I could not think of a better way to celebrate the wisdom gained and experiences I