Hunting Meat

Every now and again as a hunter you have to ask yourself: What am I really hunting for?
For me that question entered my mind one evening this week when a young, fork horned white-tailed buck stepped out in front of me and paused. I was sitting on a rise, watching a stand of dense brush and timber that bordered a grassy meadow. The meadow was crisscrossed with deer trails and the ground littered with deer droppings. I had already seen two does, and as the whitetail are coming into rut now, I knew chances were good there would be a buck in the neighborhood.
It was almost my last opportunity to hunt for the season and as I sat there wondering if I was going to fill my tag, my mind was replaying scenes from earlier in the hunting season: I kept seeing the bucks I'd let go.
There was the 4 point mule deer buck that I saw on the first morning of the season. "Beautiful buck" I had thought, "but too early to tag out now". Then there was the nice pair of white-tails we saw while retrieving Whitney's buck. I had stood there in the rain with my cross hairs on the larger of the pair. "No, one buck is enough to deal with today" I had thought to myself. Next there was another nice muley that I saw on a ridge after riding my mare seven miles behind a gate. The muley was a nice tall fork or maybe three point, but "not big enough for this far back" I had thought. And lastly there was  the big white-tail I had seen, the one that I really wanted. I had gotten up extra early that day and driven an hour and a half to get to the gate I wanted to hunt behind. I hiked for two hours to get to the spot I wanted to hunt even though it was 15 degrees when I left the truck. I spent all morning working slowly through the bowl with no luck, and finally stopped for lunch. It was still only about 20 degrees out with a stiff wind and it didn't take long for me to get cold sitting down. I decided to hike up the ridge to warm up and see if there was anything up there. I took about a dozen slow stiff steps and then looked up. The buck rose out of his bed like a bird flushing out of the grass. As he lept I had time to watch him turn broadside before landing and taking one more leap. That was all I saw, but it was enough. He had a wide, tall rack: a big 4 point at least maybe 5. A big body, mature white-tail buck, one that any hunter would be proud of. I had only seen him for about a half a second, but I spent the next two full days searching for him. At the end of that second day I had hiked over ten miles and still only had the one glimpse of the buck. I decided to try a new place, but that buck still haunted me.
So now here I was, on my last hunting day with evening drawing near watching the does graze. The question entered my mind: Are you hunting for meat or a nice rack? This time I was hunting meat. Having eaten nearly all the venison in our freezer it was time for me to fill my tag. And as I sat there looking back on another great hunting season, the young white-tail stepped out of the timber and paused. I raised my rifle, steadied the cross hairs behind the shoulder, exhaled and squeezed the trigger.
To my dismay, the buck did not lay down in his tracks as is always my goal. My shot must have gone wide because instead, this one spun and ran back into the brush. I stood there watching sadly while night came on dark and fast. After marking the last spot I saw him with my orange hat, I walked back to the truck to get another flashlight and call for back up. I felt terrible, I've never lost a wounded deer yet, and I sure didn't want to now. Whitney came out and we spent the next two hours of the pitch black night searching in the thick brush with flashlights and head lamps. We finally, and thankfully located the dead buck, but not without some real doubts. After I thanked the buck for his sacrifice, I dressed and cleaned him, and as I dragged him back to the truck I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. I had filled my tag and we had recovered the buck and that's what really mattered. It didn't matter that this buck was only a fork, because after all you can't eat the antlers and I know the big bucks are still out there. Somewhere.

KJ  

Images of hunting season

One night last weekend I was driving home after an exhausting day hunting with no game to show for my efforts when a thought came to me. Isn't it strange that the only images of hunting that we share and celebrate are ones that show a happy hunter posing with a harvested animal? While this is of course a pinnacle moment, it tells nothing of the work and dedication it took to get to that point, or the work that remains to be done after the shot. This is only one moment in a wide range of images that actually make a hunting season, and could be part of why non-hunters don't understand why we hunters feel so strongly about hunting.
If you were to actually show images of my typical hunting season, there would be many many pictures with no game at all. Pictures of cold dark mornings, long silent walks, trees bending in whistling winds and red numb fingers. Photos showing entire days with no words spoken, where no animals are seen and long drives home with nothing to show for the effort.


Whitney preps garden produce and venison for hunting camp stew.

But there would be more than that. There would be pictures of friends around a campfire, corn bread from a dutch oven, and smoke curling from the chimney above a wall tent. There would be pictures of golden larch needles, white snow flakes, and red huckleberry leaves. There would be pictures of vistas and mountains, streams and rivers. Elk tracks in the snow, fresh droppings and a recent bedding spot. Wolf tracks the size of desert plates, and lion tracks on top of your own tracks made only hours before.
But there has to be more than pictures, you have to convey the sensations too. Not only of the frozen fingers and tired legs, but of the sudden spike in the heart rate when you catch a glimpse of something. The disappointment that comes after a long silent walk when out of nowhere a doe stands up and just like that, effectively warns the entire mountain side of your coming. Of your heart pounding in your ears when a buck spots you and gives you that one second stare before bounding away. The wet sheep smell of your wool pants after hiking all day. The sensation of being soaked in sweat from dragging an animal out even when it's so cold the water in your backpack has frozen. And of finally, finally having made it back to the truck well after dark with the narrow beam of your headlamp guiding the way after trying not to think about all the hungry carnivores that have been watching and smelling you go by.
I guess the thing is that there is way too much about a hunting season to try and share all of it, so we just boil down to the one moment of success. The one moment that proves it was all worthwhile. But success without effort is fleeting. For me the hunts that were the hardest are the stories best recalled, and somehow the meat tastes a little better when there is a good story to go with it.
So for any non-hunters that may be reading this, and especially ones that don't appreciate seeing pictures of dead animals and grinning hunters, just remember your only seeing part of the picture.


KJ

Hunt 2011

It's been a great hunting season!

 Early on in the season, we enjoyed a really fun camping trip with friends, and I took some rides looking for elk. While these outings didn't turn up any game, they were both very worthwhile hunting trips. Hunting is about a lot more than bagging a trophy. A big part of the experience is spending time with great people in the places that we love. This season we were really excited to have Whitney's Dad here for a couple of weekends.

We've had a great time with Gary revisiting some old favorite hunting places and trying out some new ones. We took long hikes, at times not seeing anything. Other times we saw many deer, and even a herd of cow elk. One day Gary and I saw nothing but some mountain lion and really large wolf tracks.

 Eventually, Whitney and I were both successful filling our buck tags, each taking nice mule deer. We got to share the experience with Gary which made it even more enjoyable.  We've both shot deer with larger racks in years past, but we are meat hunters first and foremost, and these will be good eating. These two deer will keep us well fed for the next year, I'm really looking forward to the tenderloins! We'll let them hang for a week and then the work starts. Until then we still have some time left to look for elk, and I'm looking forward to hunting with  a good buddy next weekend.

No matter what the outcome, when you spend time in the hills with great people it's a great season!

Whitney's First Buck

Whitney's First Buck!





Whitney bagged her first buck this fall, a beautiful mule deer 4 by 4. Whitney did a great job hunting this buck and made a very good single shot. We are both very greatful for this successful hunt and I am looking forward to the rest of the hunting season.
I hope you are all well and happy, and of course, Go Griz!
Kyle