10/12/2026
Per Brian Sturgill,
For many veterans, healing and comfort are found far beyond hospital walls or quiet rooms—they are found in the rugged quiet of the wilderness. Through Changed by Nature, a nonprofit dedicated to helping veterans reconnect with the outdoors, I was fortunate enough to draw an archery elk tag in a competitive multi-unit hunt zone in Northern Arizona. With only a few days to make it happen, I knew the clock was ticking, but the wilderness has a way of teaching patience—and throwing curveballs—when you least expect it.
A Rocky Start
The hunt began with a few unexpected setbacks. Justin stepped up to guide and assist me on the trip, but some issues on the way to camp set us back a little. To make matters worse, a steady Northern Arizona rain began to fall, turning the roads mucky and muddy.
After an initial afternoon spent sitting over a waterhole without hearing a sound, I drove out to meet Justin. With the rain continuing and our plans delayed, we decided to pull off the road, pitch camp in the pouring rain, and wait for morning.
That night, as the wind rustled our canvas walls and heavy rain drummed on the aluminum tent lid, doubt started to creep in. Rain was in the forecast for the rest of the week, and the rut had commenced the previous week. But around 3:00 AM, through the sound of the wind and rain, a clear, piercing sound broke the dark: the bugle of a bull elk nearby. That single call was all the motivation we needed.
Turning the Tide
The next morning, the rain finally relented. By early afternoon, Justin’s high spirits hadn’t waned a bit. He suggested we head straight into the timber to see if we could locate a bull.
Our initial calling efforts were met with silence; the elk were tight-lipped. As we circled back toward the rig, we caught a glimpse of a bull’s tail end retreating through the trees—he had quietly come in to investigate our calls and caught our movement. Figuring he was headed into a nearby drainage, we decided to push ahead half a mile to cut him off, setting up along the edge of a small meadow.
I quickly ranged a few landmarks and set my sight pins for 40, 50, and 60 yards. Justin dropped back behind me and began working his magic on the call.
For 15 minutes, the woods were dead silent. Just as I began to wonder if the bull had slipped away in the opposite direction, Justin—the elk whisperer—kept up his sequence.
The Moment of Truth
Suddenly, the bull trotted out into the open meadow.
My heart hammered as I brought up the rangefinder: just inside 40 yards. Moving as smoothly as possible, I drew back my bow. As the bull stood quartering toward me, I settled my 40-yard pin just inside his shoulder and released.
The arrow flew true, striking slightly high but hitting hard. Justin was confident in the shot, but we honored the animal and gave him 30 minutes before trailing. Walking up to find him piled up beneath a nearby juniper tree was a feeling I will never forget—a mix of awe, relief, and deep gratitude.
Gratitude and Tradition
As if on cue, the skies opened up again just as we began breaking the bull down. By the time we packed out and returned to camp after 11:00 PM, we were completely soaked—and absolutely stoked. We returned with 300 pounds of organic wild game meat for the freezer and a magnificent trophy that will forever serve as a reminder of an unforgettable trip.
Special thanks to Justin for his expert calling and unwavering positivity, and to Changed by Nature for providing opportunities like this for our veteran community. Their work gives veterans not just a hunt, but a powerful reminder of brotherhood, resilience, and the healing power of the great outdoors.
