Four People Shaped by Service, One Week in Elk Country, and What They Carried Home After the Last Tag Was Filled
Rain had been falling across the mountains of New Mexico when the temperature dropped, and the weather turned. Soon, the rain became heavy snow, covering the piñon, clear cuts, and high country where four hunters were moving through elk terrain at 6,000 to 8,000 feet.
The cold and altitude took more out of the group than expected. But for Darin Hardy, that discomfort was part of the experience.
This Veterans Day, we follow one Level 7 High Terrain elk hunt and the people who stepped into it together. The harvest mattered, but it was never the only measure of the experience. As Darin puts it, “the hunt is the vehicle”: a way to interrupt familiar patterns and create room for something new.
Meet Darin Hardy
Darin Hardy is a Marine and Special Operations veteran and the founder of Level 7 High Terrain, where he brings together coaching, wilderness immersion, hunting, and mentorship.
For Darin, hunting demands presence: reading terrain, adapting to changing conditions, making decisions, and accepting responsibility for what comes next.
Darin has also carried Benchmade in the field for years. We previously shared more of his story in What the Mountain Reveals: Darin Hardy. This time, the focus is on what happened when a new group stepped into the mountains with him.
Camp: Four Hunters, One Mountain
The group included four hunters: two military veterans, one retired government employee, and a fourth hunter who was the teenage son of a former teammate of Darin’s who had passed away.
The first day started on the range, catching up with old friends and getting acquainted with new ones. “The quality of people in camp was extremely high and we developed a sense of brotherhood quickly,” Darin says.
Days followed a deliberate rhythm: breakfast and coffee, a thought for the day, breathwork or mindfulness, then time in the field. The group reconvened at lunch, headed back out for the evening hunt, and gathered again at night for dinner, conversation, and preparation for the next day.
For the veterans in camp, parts of that structure felt familiar. Darin compares elk hunting to mission preparation: study the environment, move into position, execute the plan, break everything down, and make sure everyone comes back out.
The Hunt: Rain, Snow, and Altitude
Darin’s home unit in New Mexico moves through dramatically different terrain, from sage and red rock to piñon, arroyos, open meadows, and high country. On this trip, unusual rain made the landscape muddy and difficult to hunt before eventually turning to snow. Temperatures dropped, altitude became harder to ignore, and the East Coast hunters found themselves working between roughly 6,000 and 8,000 feet in cold, snowy conditions. Darin called it “a great opportunity to get uncomfortable.”
The snow also helped. Tracks became easier to read, elk stood out more clearly, and fresh snow softened movement during a stalk. For Darin, the final approach is one of the most rewarding parts: a herd might first appear a mile away, followed by a slow process of reading wind and terrain, staying hidden, closing distance, and sometimes crawling into the final shooting position. As he puts it, “They’re just out there living, man. It’s us that’s always out of position.”
The first hunter filled a tag on the first afternoon. Each success lifted the whole camp, and when an elk needed to be packed out, everyone helped, regardless of whose tag had been filled.
What the Mountain Asked of Them
Darin often says the land has a way of bringing each person the lesson they need. For one hunter recovering from a significant physical injury, that meant sprinting up a steep hill above 6,000 feet and seeing how far his recovery had come. Another had been second-guessing choices in his life and looking for the confidence to make the right one. His shot came later in the hunt, after a couple of easier opportunities that he let rattle him.
One question Darin asks when hunters arrive: “Who do you want to be on day six of your five-day hunt?”
Darin recalls one hunter whose answer extended well beyond the mountain. After harvesting his first elk, he told Darin the trip revealed a desire to be close to family and see his granddaughters grow. The day after his harvest, he turned down a major professional opportunity and stepped back from work.
Processing Day: The Work After the Hunt
Level 7 builds a processing day into hunts like this one, something Darin says sets it apart from just about any other guide or outfitting service he knows: “We factor in one day of processing.” The meat hung outside the cabin to cool, and on the final day, once all the tags were filled, a local with a walk-in cooler, tables, and a grinder let the group use his space. As a community, they cut up every elk together, making roasts, steaks, and burger, then wrapping and freezing it all.
For Darin, that day teaches something the hunt alone cannot. Many hunters have no idea what comes after the shot, with a 450- to 600- pound animal on the ground. “How you enjoy your meat when you cook it begins with the first cut you make in the field,” he says.
The Tools in Hand
The SlipRidge™ Combo was one of the key field-processing setups on the hunt (pairing the SlipRidge™ fixed blade with the SlipRidge™ Hook). Darin says the hook worked “really well for doing the dorsal cuts and when we were taking the hide off in the field.”
Several Saddle Mountain Skinners were in camp as well, along with the Meatcrafter®, which earned its own fans. “Everyone was a big fan of the Meatcrafter once we got into boning out the meat where we were processing it,” he says. “That 6-inch Meatcrafter is a personal favorite of mine.”
Benchmade and Level 7 worked together to equip the veterans in camp, a partnership Darin clearly values. “I proudly support and use the products of a company that puts that kind of investment back into their veteran community.”
The Meal After the Last Tag
Once the last tag is filled, camp ends with a traditional meal: a backstrap, elk heart fried up with onions, and baked potatoes, all cooked on an open griddle in the cabin. “It really taps into the ancient DNA of us: communal gathering, a successful hunt, sharing the spoils of the hunt together, the laughter and the retelling.”
Asked what he will remember years from now, Darin points to that table. “The feeling of that community meal is what I carry with me.”
For the Veteran on the Fence
When Darin talks about what time in the mountains can offer veterans, he points to solitude. When the pace of technology, conversation, and information begins to settle, he says, you begin to find your place in the rhythm of nature. “It’s a tremendous reset.”
And for the veteran who feels drawn to something like this but is unsure whether the time is right, his message is simple: “In your own time. There’s no rush. The mountains are always going to be here.”
The hunt may be what brings everyone into the mountains. The harvest may be what brings everyone together around the table. But what lasts is often what the experience reveals along the way.
As Darin puts it:
“When you embrace that, the mountain turns into a mirror.”