Hunters are given a unique view of death. With the squeeze of a trigger, we see animals take their final breaths. Within a matter of seconds, a browsing deer or flushing pheasant is transformed from a critter bursting with energy into a carcass.
Those of us who spend a lot of time in the woods also watch death come more slowly. We’ll witness a pack of coyotes wear down a yearling whitetail to exhaustion and then tear into her while she’s still kicking. We’ll follow the blood trail of a poorly-hit bull elk as he drags himself down a steep mountain ridge.
But do these experiences give us the courage to face our own mortality? I think they probably helped Tim Bowers.