Learning From Failure: Why the Process Matters More Than the Outcome in Hunting

By: Justin "MrJayCam" Campbell | Equalized Outdoors

The view from the bottom

At this time of year, with most seasons now over, it’s easy to drift into a state of reflection. Some of us began the season with specific goals, and some of us achieved them. The reality is, regardless of what you see on social media, there is also a segment among us that did not—and that is okay too.

We live in a society full of highlight reels, grip-and-grins, and what feels like an endless carousel of show-and-tell. The truth is, most people will focus on the outcome because the process isn’t as glamorous. It doesn’t bring the same engagement or praise as the finished product.

For new hunters, adult-onset hunters, and those without strong mentors or guidance, this can easily be perceived as the rule rather than the exception. That 30-second reel could have taken 30 or more days of effort to create, but you’d never know. Hunting is hard. That’s the truth. No one gets it right every single time.

If you stick with it long enough, you will experience missed shots, getting winded, blowing a stalk, losing access, or simply running out of time. You will not fill every tag you buy, and you will likely leave more unfilled than you ever fill. Sitting all day in the cold without seeing a single animal will test you mentally and physically. It’s easy to second-guess your scouting and all the work you’ve put in when nothing seems to go your way.

The truth is, you can do everything right and still come up short. That doesn’t make it a failure. These seasons shouldn’t be viewed as losses, but rather as opportunities for growth and development. A kill should not be the sole measure of success. Every trip into the woods is a privilege and a chance to learn from nature’s greatest classroom—if you approach it with the right mindset.

Learn from your mistakes and strive to avoid repeating them. Don’t be ashamed of them either; they happen to all of us. I’ve spooked deer because I got overconfident. For the first time since 2021, I didn’t fill any of my buck tags this season. I won’t rehash the full story here, as I’ve already covered part of it in my piece about hunting in an Earn-A-Buck (EAB) county.

EAB played a role, but it wasn’t the whole story. My familiarity with the property I grew up hunting led to complacency. Things had changed, and more intentional scouting could have prevented the outcome. Did it feel good? No. But it doesn’t make me less of a hunter. It will make me a better one. This year, I’ll put in the work and give myself every opportunity to succeed without excuses.

I was still able to harvest a doe, which provided meat for my family and contributed to conservation efforts in my state. It wasn’t the season I envisioned, but I’m still grateful—for the opportunity, for the experience, and for everything the woods continue to teach me.

The key, at least for me, is not riding the emotional highs and lows—neither in life nor in the woods. Don’t get too high on success, and don’t let disappointment define you. It’s easier said than done, but this mindset enables you to reframe experiences as lessons rather than verdicts.

That doesn’t mean you stop setting goals, evaluating yourself, and adjusting. Do all of that. But don’t let outcomes become your only metric. Just like your favorite professional athlete, the way you practice is the most significant indicator of how you’ll perform.

Learn your quarry. Scout consistently. Know your weapon. Understand your gear. Respect the process. Enjoy the work as much as the moment.

And understand this truth: sometimes, even your best won’t be enough.

That doesn’t mean you’re failing.

It means you’re still in the game.

Learning from failure is key.