Last summer, I signed up for a Maine hunter safety course. I passed it and promptly marched to the town office and bought my first Maine hunting license. A little late in life, sure, but I was motivated, in part, by this quote by hunter and conservationist Jim Posewitz:

“The opportunity and privilege to hunt is yours by virtue of your citizenship.”

By opening day, I’d sighted my rifle and gone scouting with an experienced hunter. We hunted together a few times; then I went out alone. The whole experience felt surreal, frightening, and liberating at the same time. Walking into the dark woods that morning infused me with a courage I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was a watershed moment of sorts; even though I did not kill a deer, my curiosity with the outdoors was piqued beyond a casual walk in the woods. I was enjoying every minute outside and I wanted to learn more.

I had been reading about the Becoming an Outdoor-Woman program for a few years and decided this was the year to pull the trigger and register for a weekend at Bryant Pond. I signed up for a class in shooting sporting clays, a map and compass class, a wildlife tracking class, and then played it safe with a wild game cooking class.

The instructors were incredibly knowledgeable and the class length and size was just right. Having gotten lost in the woods more than once, I loved learning how to set a bearing and a course on an old school compass. And the sporting clays? Well, I only hit one, but it was such a gorgeous day, I could not complain.

Honestly? What I enjoyed most about the whole weekend was meeting an incredibly interesting group of women with a broad diversity of experiences in the outdoors. As we sighted rifles, took field bearings, and passed the salt over family-style meals, I heard fascinating stories of women who loved Maine’s wild places passionately and wanted to learn how to successfully spend time there. More than a few of these bright and energetic women had relocated here from other places because of this love. And others were natives, including Carmen Bombeke, an engineer and mother from the midcoast area who casually invited us on a turkey hunt in May.

I am counting the days and googling about gobblers.