A non-hunter's memory of the hunt.

It was the type of fall night that makes you put on that extra layer only to regret it later when you begin walking, allowing you to work up a sweat then giving you chills when you sit too long. We quietly adventured down a typical trail dressed to fit the part, green, brown, and black leaves dancing with every step we took. Periodic pauses to investigate small “rubs” on trees, noticing small branches that precariously hung by string like remains after being marked with scent. Some pauses were just to soak in the world around us, attempting to let the cool breeze clear away the webs of society that have dulled our senses over time. In a culture that moves so fast we had found a world that still moved at its old pace, a world that wants you to be mystified every time you enter, still filled with that strange energy we all felt outside when we were young. My guide would stop to point out sign of deer along the way, almost always things that I have walked past countless times.

When we arrived at a spot that looked just about right, we sat. I am not sure if we were really looking for deer, or if we were just enjoying our surroundings. It is different when you are hunting, everything becomes important and amplified. An old oak ambitiously dropping its acorns becomes a thunderstorm that could only be found in the western plains. The simple and random dance of leaves caught in the wind would rival even the most entertaining man made spectacle. As a small squirrel busied itself preparing for winter, I would have sworn that a herd of bison had stumbled upon our small park.

Then I heard it. This was no squirrel, it was much bigger. I must say that if you have never experienced a deer in ITS environment you are missing something. They are bigger than life when you meet them on their turf. Rarely do we have the pleasure of experiencing an animal’s graceful power. We usually lock them up in a small fake reality that inhibits us from sensing this…but out here…on this night…I felt it. My guide moved unlike I have ever seen him move, slow, steady, animal like.

I will not fill you in on the rest of the details. They are not important to me. It was what I experienced before “the kill”, the appreciation, the belonging, the awe.

Congrats Chuck. One shot, two lungs, and a nice deer. Thanks for allowing me to “accidentally miss” all of the details of “the kill”.


I should note, for those of you that oppose hunting I do not want to hear from you. I am not a hunter and am not talking about those guys that go out with their buddies during gun season, drink a few beers, smoke some cigarettes, then shoot at the bush that moves. I am speaking of the hunters who appreciate the cold day in a tree stand as much as “the kill”. Besides, if you love the animals as much as you might claim, you are smart enough to understand that we are destroying their habitat faster than they can adapt. While we are destroying their habitat (with our nice new subdivisions) we are working hard to assure that the populations grow as much as possible. The combination of these two factors almost requires hunters to do what they do. We can either let the hunters kill them and use them for a productive use, or we can hit them with our cars or eventually watch them starve or if things go really good watch parish through some human born disease. So unless you actively pursue land conservation efforts I would suggest not complaining about hunters. Also, for those of you that like to make comments like, “real tough go out and shot a deer from 40 yards away with a gun, I would be impressed if they killed deer with their bare hands” or “real tough I see deer along side the road all of the time”. I would ask you when was the last time you had a deer within bow range in an area you could hunt, instead of an area that takes the animal and places them in an environment in which their natural defenses are basically useless? Is it really a fair comparison to make between seeing a deer in a subdivision (saturated with human smells and without typical hiding places) and the true outdoors? I always find it interesting that some of the most avid anti-hunters consider themselves true hikers. I have walked with both through the woods and can honestly say that I have watched hikers scurry down a trail focused on their destination and have watched hunters notice every detail around them as they chart unmarked wood land. I ask you, who is really experiencing the woods and who holds them only as another form of entertainment?