I starting hunting as an adult. My Dad never took me hunting as he did not hunt himself. My Dad was an Army Chaplain and we were always on the move, every three years for the most part.
As an adult, I became interested in hunting through a nascent desire to become self sufficient and to connect with ancient ancestors who survived solely by their skills in growing and killing their food. Supply chain logistics of major grocery stores always seemed super fragile and susceptible to failure to me, and I always wondered if they did fail, what would humans do if they could no longer buy the food they needed at the grocery store?
I know, its a scary, horrible thought, but these are the types of things that rattle around in my brain from time to time.
Enter my good friend, Mike. He also taught himself to hunt, and introduced me to some of the 'managed' hunts in our area as a means of practicing the art. The local forestry services have 'managed' hunts from time-to-time to help thin out the deer populations in suburban forest areas to help encourage tree growth, to help prevent herd diseases, etc.
I signed up to one. I had never fired a gun before. I had to certify that I could hit a target with a 12 gauge shotgun at 20 yards. My friend Mike talked me through the certification process and how to fire a shotgun as I walked with the certification person out to the range.
I was really nervous. This was new territory for this city boy wanting to be a country boy, but really just a military brat to his core.
I badly missed the target on my first shot. Mike calmly explained what I just done wrong and coached me on how to take my second, of three possible, attempts. Fortunately, I nailed the bulls eye on my second try and I was summarily certified for the managed hunt.
This intense 20-30 minute coaching session by my friend Mike would pay dividends in my life for years to come.
At my very first managed hunt I managed to take two does with a 12 gauge shotgun from a tree stand. I was profoundly moved by the experience, and grateful to the 'Everywhere Spirit' for the gift of these animals for food, for the sanctify of life, and for the ability to continue to practice the ancient art of the hunt. It was a magical, profoundly moving, moment for me.
Then I had to figure out how to process the deer. That is another story, but I got it done, also thanks to my friend Mike's coaching.
Fast forward to today. I now own my own land and have hunted my property for the last three years not getting a single deer to-date. There are, however, plenty of deer on my land - I have seen them, been taunted by them, and they continue to dance around the property in my absence.
My girls celebrate this fact; I lament my continued failures as a hunter.
But I continue to learn. I continue to spend many cold Winter mornings in the field, waiting and watching and learning. I know that in time, I will be successful again.
This time, however, I choose to hunt with a cross bow. The cross bow is swift and quiet. It is more akin to the tools used by my ancient ancestors. It requires that I be much closer to my prey than a .308 rifle would. It requires that I 10X my hunting skills in order to be successful.
And I really like the challenge.
Walking to the blind just before dawn, in the freezing cold, with innumerable stars overhead, expecting to run into Big Foot at any moment, is awe inspiring. I hear an owl or two hooting in the distance. I get my gear together and sit in my blind. I put on my makeup (my black war paint to help me blend in with the shadows better). The sun is close to popping-up over the horizon. I hear the crows of several roosters in the neighborhood announcing the dawning day. Soon, I start to hear a nearby buck mooing and braying. Maybe he's warning his harem that a stranger is nearby, or maybe calling a willing harem member to come over to mate.
I'm not sure why he moos and brays so, but I like the fact that he announces his presence.
Maybe he'll walk in front of me. Yeah, and maybe I will win the Mega Millions jackpot.
Soon, the sun starts to appear revealing structures recently hidden in the shadows of darkness. Warmth starts to flood the land again. I start to shiver as my body temperature drops from inactivity and the anticipation of the hunt becomes imminent.
I feel alive and somewhat in touch with ancient man who sought to provide for their families by harvesting the fruit of the land. In this regard, even though arguably far less technologically astute than we, the hunting and survival skills of ancient men were far superior to mine. This fact is not lost on me as I wonder why I have not taken a deer since 2009.
Perhaps a YouTube video will fill in some knowledge gaps obviously lacking in my DNA.
Nevertheless, I feel alive and relish the dopamine hits and beauty of the surrounding nature in my seemingly quixotic pursuits.
While sitting and waiting for a deer to materialize in my view, I begin to realize just how much the universe is beyond human comprehension. The interconnections of life and life's histories are vast.
And it is all good.
Dum spiro spero.
