If you’ve spent enough falls hunting in
the Hayward area, you know one thing
for certain: the woods don’t owe you
anything.
Every season begins with hope. Trail
cameras are checked, stands are hung, gear
is organized, and opening morning feels like
Christmas. But not every season ends with
a filled tag. Sometimes it’s a close encounter.
Sometimes it’s a missed opportunity.
Sometimes it’s a mistake that stays with you
long after the season ends.
For me, 2025 had been three years since I
successfully harvested a deer.
Between clean misses and opportunities,
I started questioning everything. After last
season, I honestly wondered why I kept
putting myself through it. I never wanted
to blame my equipment, but after countless
adjustments, my old crossbow simply wasn’t
shooting consistently. This fall, a good
friend encouraged me to borrow her Ravin
R29X, giving me one less thing to worry
about as another season began.
Still, having confidence in new-to-me
equipment didn’t erase the doubt I’d been
carrying.
Before daylight on opening morning, I
made the mile-long walk into our property.
Anyone who knows me knows I’m a bit of a
scaredy-cat in the dark. Every snapping twig
sounds like a predator, and every shadow
makes my imagination run wild. When
the full moon lit up a buck and a doe just
50 yards from my stand before sunrise, I
figured I’d already blown the hunt.
As the morning went on, deer filtered
through the woods. I watched a young
buck, a doe being chased, and even another
mature buck we’d nicknamed “Socks.”
Around 11 am, while texting my husband
Jay and a few friends, I heard heavy
footsteps behind me. I turned around to see
a mature buck walking in, mouth open and
panting after chasing does.
The next 30 seconds happened faster than
I could think.
At first, he ignored my attempt to stop
him. Finally, I yelled, “Hey!” He turned
broadside, and I squeezed the trigger.
That unmistakable sound of a successful
shot was one I hadn’t heard in three years.
After a short, but emotional, track
through the swamp with Jay and our friend
Derek, we found him. He was an old warrior
with busted tines, worn teeth, and a torn ear.
Standing over that buck, I wasn’t thinking
about antlers. I was thinking about every
early morning, every missed opportunity,
every frustrating season, and every moment
I had wondered if I should keep trying.
That’s what hunting has always been
about for me.
The Hayward area woods have a way
of teaching patience. Some mornings
the woods are quiet. Some seasons are
humbling. But every sunrise in a tree stand
reminds us why we keep coming back. It’s
the anticipation, the tradition, the people we
share it with, and the belief that your next
opportunity could be just around the corner.
If you’re heading into deer season after a
few tough years, don’t give up. Sometimes
it takes three years of frustration for 30
seconds to change everything. And even
when the tag stays in your pocket, there’s
still no place I’d rather spend a fall morning
than in the woods around Hayward.
Sarah Kozlowski is a Hayward-based
photographer, content creator, and owner
of Kozlowski Co., where she specializes in
outdoor, travel, and tourism storytelling
