“There will always be, in the hunter’s memory, the song of a little mountain brook, discovered in his wanderings; the heart-stopping clutch as a magnificent buck bounds from a windfall hideaway; the triumphant moment when, by wits and woodsmanship alone, he has tracked down his whitetail buck and sent forth the well-placed shot that brought his trophy to bag.”
— Larry Koller, Shots At Whitetails
In the amber afterglow of a November setting sun, I trained my sights on the biggest whitetail buck of my hunting career. There, in the knee-deep snow, he teetered mortally wounded from my initial volley of shots hours before and a long distance from whence we began the chase. As the shot rang out, the buck melted into the white tapestry. As I approached the downed beast, he blinked once, gasped a final breath and then was motionless at his final resting spot. The paradoxical emotions of jubilation and sadness flooded me as I admired my prize.
Sitting atop a windfall next to the buck of my dreams — wet, tired and mentally spent — a wave of reflective thoughts came rushing in. The countless miles that I’d traveled on the trail of this magnificent creature — up and over three ridges, and through two swamps — made the accomplishment that much more special. The tenacity of the buck and his sheer will to escape capture made him a formidable foe. The sheer fact that I was able to succeed was satisfying. And even after many years later, gazing upon that fine head on the wall, I continue to reflect on that hunt. I can, with vivid recall, remember the six-mile hike out that evening in the dark, and the three days afterward that it ultimately took to drag the vanquished monarch out to a drivable road.
Memories — those golden moments we all have to reflect upon in the quietness of our hearts — are snapshots of a particular time, event and place. They are unique only to you and become part of the mind’s ever-updating photo album that can never be erased. As I grow older, the more precious these wonderful recollections mean to me, and I cling to them fancifully. I’ve been allotted more than my fair share, for which I’m extremely grateful. Several of my most treasured reminiscences don’t necessarily have anything to do with a kill, although many have emerged while in the act of hunting or time shared with hunting partners near and dear to me.
Outdoor writer Pat Durkin expressed this sentiment so well when he wrote, “Memories are often easier to accommodate than the person who inspired them. Memories can be generous. They don’t pick at the quirks and defects. They tend to find the good that’s so often hidden in real life.”
As hunters, we often become susceptible to getting caught up in the proverbial trap of getting to the end of our trip, our goal, our prize and often lose sight of the enjoyment to be had along the way. We become so focused on the outcome that we miss the subtle high points in the journey to get there.
THE
VALUE OF RELATIONSHIPS
The famous
country/western group Alabama recorded a single in the early 1990s, the lyrics
of which more than emphasize the importance that is placed on getting to the
destination instead of enjoying the journey. “I’m in a hurry to get things
done Oh I rush and rush until life’s no fun All I really gotta do is live and
die But I’m in a hurry and don’t know why.” Relationships are built through
time and are an investment. The people we choose to hunt with should be more
important than the animal we seek. After all, you can always kill a deer — it’s
difficult to replace relationships. Through the years, I’ve had hunted with a number
of people: family, friends and those who wanted more than I had to give. Trust
me when I tell you, good hunting partners are hard to come by. And when you
find them, always — and I mean always — put them first. Jealousy and envy have
a cruel way of eroding even the sincerest of friendships. I’ve seen it happen
far too often where the priority of killing that monster buck (the destination)
trumps a relationship (the journey). Irreparable damage is inflicted fracturing
families, friendships and personal conduct all for the mighty buck. There’s not
a whitetail walking this planet, regardless of how big he might be, that is
more important to me than my family and friends. Think about this the next time
you might be tempted to discard a relationship over a whitetail. When you
eventually die, there will be no whitetails attending your funeral, and stuffed
deer heads don’t count because they’re past caring. Only those people who cared
most about you will be there to pay their final respects. Those are the ones
who count, the ones who matter, the ones you invested in, and the ones who experienced
the journey beside you and will be there when you have reached your final
destination.
OUR
WAY OR THE HIGHWAY
Superiority has a funny
way of rearing its ugly head amongst deer hunters. And when this happens, we
lose sight of exactly why we are out there. Hunting deer is supposed to be an
invigorating, enjoyable pastime, in which the outcome should never be based on
hits or misses, and antler score, points or size, but rather in the experience
and opportunity to engage in such a wonderful God-given exercise of freedom and
right. Yet we squabble about our methodology, choice of weapon, the size and
sex of the deer we shoot, baiting, high fences and other considerations. I’m a
deer tracker, but it doesn’t necessarily make me a better deer hunter than a
guy who diligently sits in a tree stand for hours. What it demonstrates is that
the tree-stand hunter gets as much satisfaction from deciphering exactly where
the optimum location is to perch aloft and ambush his deer as I gain from dogging
my quarry from dawn-to-dusk, gobbling up endless miles in hopes of getting a shot.
When it comes to the debate about weaponry, again we get caught up in
contentions as if it really mattered to the deer how it was going to die. Just
remember, on average, automobiles kill far more deer than guns, bows or
muzzleloaders combined. I think it would make a lot more sense and cause much
less grief if instead of looking down our long nose of disapproval about what
another hunter is using for a legal weapon, thinking they might have a marked advantage,
to cough up the dough it would take to buy that hunting tool and go hunt, or
bid the chap God speed and hunt with whatever fits his fancy. Personal
limitations are what we impose upon our self, not on others. Sadly, our culture
has seen fit to elevate deer hunting personalities into rock stars. In many instances,
the ordinary deer hunter does a comparative of what is seen on TV and their own
experiences, and the two don’t seem to add up. Well here’s the dirty little
secret: It never will, because you’re not hunting on a level playing field. In
large, many of the made-for-TV hunting shows are 23 minutes of spliced up
entertainment where the participants have the best of locations, equipment,
time and most of all, money to spend. What you choose to shoot for a deer on
any outing is a personal choice and should never be compared with what anyone else
chooses. Further, what’s hanging from your game pole at the season’s end has
more to do with circumstances and choice than it ever will with being as good
or inferior a deer hunter to someone else. Gene Wensel stated it best when he
wrote, “What we carry for weapons may vary, and how we hunt might be different,
but what we carry in our heart is the same — we’re all hunters.”
WHY
WE HUNT
Ask
any group of hunters that question and you’re sure to get a variety of solid
responses. Retorts like the one given by the former governor of Alaska, Sarah
Palin: “I eat therefore I hunt.” Respondents would undoubtedly reply that they
hunt for sport, as an outlet, camaraderie, a challenge or other reasons. All
are sound. I have pondered that question time after time, but I always come
back to the same conclusion: I hunt for personal satisfaction. That is why I hunt
in the manner that I do — tracking — and why I must hunt where I do, the
wilderness. I have yet to find another methodology that can bring me the same
gratification or provide the necessary ingredients to enhance my journey. Primal
Dreams producers Gene and Barry Wensel outline the very essence of hunting
better than I have ever heard expressed when they state, “Why we hunt is far
more important than where, when or how. Hunting for the right reasons is much
more important than the act itself. It defines fair chase; our level of
passion, our future, our very existence.” They go on to list seven elements
that conclusively shape hunting as a journey, not a destination.
1.
Wonderment: When we see nature played out before our
eyes for the first time, it’s like looking through the eyes of a child and we stand
excitably in awe.
2.
Hope: When we watch a newborn fawn stumbling on wobbly
legs in its first attempt to stand and nurse, our heart roots for its ultimate survival.
3.
Anticipation: When oversized tracks litter the ground
in your hunting area, coupled with rubs on trees you cannot wrap your arms around.
4.
Self-reliance:When you leave the comforts of a warm
bed well before the rooster crows and meet the harsh demands that the elements
can throw at you only to return the next day for more.
5.
Responsibility: When hitting your mark is consistently
practiced, confidence replaces apprehension.
6.
Sustenance: When preparation meets opportunity, a
bounty of food is provided for the hunter.
7.
Pride: When goals are achieved, the strenuous effort it
took to get there intensifies — accomplished goals cannot be met without the journey.
When these seven elements cannot be bought, we are left with God’s gifts and a
way of life where memories and dreams flourish.
CONCLUSION
Each
journey is filled with unexpected twists and turns around each new bend in the
trail. The journey also has with it many unfulfilled dreams — that’s what keeps
us coming back, year after year. But on some lucky radiant day when those dreams
turn into the destination, it’s then that you realize that the journey itself
is the destination, providing memories lasting for a lifetime.
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