I felt it on a recent archery hunt in Argentina - buck fever. That heart-racing, breath-shortening jolt of adrenaline that hijacks your entire body in the moment that matters most. It had been a long time since it hit me like that. It came rushing back out of nowhere, as if I was a kid again.

And strangely, it didn’t just take me back to my early years bowhunting - it took me back to the flats. To chasing permit.

Permit fever is real. Maybe worse than buck fever. I used to fall apart in those moments. Knees trembling, hands shaking, brain short-circuiting while trying to lay out a perfect cast to a fish that felt like everything. I’d panic, overthink it, rush the shot. It took several shots - and a lot of blown opportunities - to finally learn that the fish of a lifetime doesn’t become the fish of a lifetime until it’s in your hands. Until then, it’s just a fish. And the cast? Just a cast.

That’s the trick. The way to beat buck fever - or permit fever, or whatever version of performance panic you’re facing - is to stop making the moment bigger than it is.

A Cast is Just a Cast. A Shot is Just a Shot.

I had to retrain my mind. Over time, I learned to approach every permit like it was just another target. Another chance. No pressure. No baggage. Not until the line tightened. Not until the fish turned.

The same goes for bowhunting. You can’t draw your bow like the weight of the world’s on it. You have to act like it’s just another rep. Stay loose. Stay calm. Let the shot break like it’s no big deal. Because if you treat every moment like it’s life-or-death, you’ll freeze. You’ll panic. You’ll blow it.

Short Memory, Next Play

Even the best quarterbacks throw interceptions. The great ones? They step right back in the huddle and throw a touchdown on the very next play.

You can’t let the last cast, the last stalk, the last blown shot define the next one. The best outdoorsmen I know? They reset. Instantly. They have a short memory. They get back to neutral and go again - focused, calm, ready.

I’ve missed shots on the flats. I’ve missed shots in the woods. And I’ll miss more in the future. But what matters is what happens next. Do you spiral? Or do you breathe, adjust, and go again?

My Reset Routine

For me, it starts with a deep breath. A quick reset. I whisper to myself: “Just a cast. Just a shot.” I picture success, not failure. I go through the mechanics in my head - smooth draw, anchor, breathe, let it break.

It’s not about not caring. It’s about caring enough to be in control. To treat it like the moment it is - not the moment you’ve built it up to be.

The Bottom Line

Buck fever means you care. But if you want to consistently perform - whether it’s a screaming red stag at 30 yards or a tailing permit on the edge of the flat - you’ve got to stay calm.

A cast is just a cast. A fish is just a fish. A shot is just a shot.

Don’t celebrate too early. Don’t panic too soon. Keep your head in it until the job is done. Then celebrate like crazy.

So What’s the Point?

The point is simple: if you want to get better - whether it’s eliminating buck fever, clearing line without a hitch, or spotting fish quickly - there’s no substitute for reps. You have to do it. You have to fail, learn, and work toward your success. The more opportunities you get, the faster you grow.

Because if it were easy - if you caught a Grand Slam your first time on the flats, or shot a world-record buck on your first hunt - it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.

It’s the pursuit. The grind. The learning. That’s what keeps us coming back.