MY BIGGEST HUNTING MISTAKE

Let’s be clear: this one’s on me. I’m okay with owning my mistakes, even if it means catching some flak from the group text or around the fire pit. Why? Because we’re a community—and in a community, we share lessons learned, not just highlight reels. So here’s one of my most humbling hunting mistakes, and I hope it saves you from doing something equally dumb.

OVERCONFIDENCE, FAMILIAR GROUND, AND THE WATER I DIDN’T BRING

This happened on a hunt with a guide I knew well. He’s not just a guide—he’s a friend. That detail matters because friends sometimes go a little easier on you, assume you know the drill, and don’t micromanage your prep. This was one of those cases.

I’d hunted this same area with him before, so I had a good feel for the terrain—or so I thought. Historically, we’d spend the bulk of the day glassing, maybe a slow stalk or two. So I prepped accordingly: chugged water in the morning, packed a single liter and two small bottles, and figured I was set for a full day.

What I didn’t plan for? A total shift in tactics. Instead of glassing and easing into positions, the guide decided—on the fly—to hike hard through steep mountain draws, attempting to bust animals out from cover. The pace went from casual to combat recon real fast. By noon, we were deep in the terrain, having covered about 15 miles on foot with full gear and effort.

RECOGNIZING THE RED LINE

I know what heat casualties look like. I’ve seen them more than a few times—especially while working as a combat instructor in the Marine Corps. I’ve memorized the signs. So when I started to feel the early warning flags—head pounding, muscles locking, focus slipping—I knew I was close to the point of no return. And here’s the kicker: I’d brought this on myself. I spoke up. I told the guide I was running dry. As it turned out, my buddy—also a seasoned guy—was in the same boat. The guide immediately shifted gears, dropped his pack, and jogged all the way back to the vehicles to get a water resupply.

I didn’t pass out. I didn’t go down. But it was close enough that I’ll never prep for a “routine” hunt the same again. That day hammered home a principle I’ve preached for years: Bring water. Bring ammo. Bring more than you think.

People often ask in class, “How much ammo should I carry? How much water?” The real answer is: it depends. Every mission, every hunt, every day in the field is different. You plan for what you expect—but you pack for what you don’t.

TAKEAWAYS (SO YOU DON’T REPEAT THIS)

Don’t assume today will be like yesterday. Terrain changes. Weather changes. So does the plan. Pack for the possibility of more—not the pattern of before.

1. Communicate clearly with your guide or partner.

2. If you’re not briefed, ask. “What’s the plan today?” isn’t nagging—it’s smart.

3. Hold yourself to a standard.

4. Even if your buddy is your guide, don’t slack on the basics. If anything, be more prepared because familiarity breeds assumptions.

5. Be honest when you hit your limit.

6. There’s nothing tough about pushing yourself into a medical emergency miles from help. Own it early, and you salvage the day.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Yeah, I screwed up. And yeah, it was preventable. But I share it because we’re all still learning—no matter how many hunts we’ve done, how many miles we’ve rucked, or how many tags we’ve punched. Hunting is supposed to be hard—but running out of water isn’t part of the adventure. It’s a liability. Let someone else be the funny story. Don’t make yourself the lesson.

Be ready. Be humble. Be over-prepared.