Why I Hunt
By Gary Moore
The reasons I hunt are many. They are also varied. My father was a hunter as was his father. My uncles all hunted. Hunting is part of my heritage.
I hunt because I like to test my skills against those of the game I am in pursuit of. Hunting is not simply the act of killing something. It is never necessary to kill to have a successful hunt.
Hunting offers me the chance to escape the madness of everyday life and to have time for my thoughts. I enjoy being in the woods alone, without interruptions.
I love to hunt deer, but I am not very good at it. Some of my friends say it is because I do not take hunting seriously enough. Most often I spend my time leaned against a tree reading a book.
What a nice feeling to be sitting on a hardwood ridge as the first light of day arrives. Facing east, I watch as the sun slowly creeps up and over the mountains. Everything is quiet, but that soon changes. With light, comes life and noise.
First the chickadees appear and flit around me as I sit in one of my tree stands. Noisy little birds, they have no fear of me. What fun it is to feed them bits of food that I have with me. Once in a while one will land on my rifle barrel and watch me. Never has one landed on me, but almost. I laugh as the little birds swoop in to land on my head or shoulder, realize I am alive, and turn at the last second.
Nuthatches follow the chickadees. Those I see are red breasted and not so numerous as the chickadees. They are also not so fearless. I can't get them to alight any closer than six feet from me.
Soon red squirrels begin to feed. Talk about noise. How can a creature that weighs only ounces make so much racket in the leaves? So often I turn, hoping to see a buck approach, only to find a red squirrel skipping along in the leaves.
Red squirrels are fun to watch. They seem to be in such a hurry as winter approaches. Gathering food is paramount to survival. Much of my hunting is done on oak ridges and thus prime feeding areas for squirrels.
A red leaps from tree to tree eventually to the one I'm perched in. I don't move as he works his way down to my perch. Out of the corner of my eye I watch. Suddenly he comes around the trunk just inches from my head. Talk about surprise! He nearly turns inside out as he races up the tree to safety a few feet above me. Then the tongue lashing begins. I am told loudly and clearly that I am intruding and that I should leave. I laugh. Were I home in bed I would not be able to enjoy this moment.
Next to arrive are the crows who fly over, loudly announcing the arrival of another day. No doubt they are headed for fields a mile away where the farmer has been spreading manure.
I finally ignore the birds and the squirrels and begin to read. Hunting is a time to relax and reading is very relaxing for me. I never go hunting without a book. No doubt many deer have walked by while I have been engrossed in a good novel. My plan is to look around after every page, but sometimes that is difficult if the book is well written.
Two raucous ravens are next on the scene. They perch in a hemlock a hundred yards away and proceed to discuss the world order. No wonder Poe depicted ravens the way he did. They are ugly and their voices grate on my ears. They are hard to ignore. Luckily, they don't stay long.
After an hour I force myself to put the book down. Time to get serious about watching for deer. Two big beautiful gray squirrels begin to forage for acorns. They are much more graceful than the rambunctious reds. Eventually they meander off and I decide to get down from my tree.
Time to wander around and see what is happening. Another reason I don't do so well, I am nosy. With one exception, all the deer I have shot have been taken while I have been sitting, but I don't sit well. I need to know what has happened on the other side of the ridge since I was last there. Maybe a magnificent buck has scraped up a big patch of woods and is just waiting for me. Maybe not too.
I slowly work my way through the woods, occasionally startling a gray squirrel or being startled by a flushing partridge. Perhaps I should leave the rifle home and bring the shotgun. Have to remind myself I am deer hunting.
The drumming of a woodpecker catches my attention. I carefully work my way to within a few yards of the tree it is mining for insects. I lean back against a sapling and watch. Sometimes it is hard to keep my mind on deer hunting.
Mid morning, and it is time to head home. I should stay in the woods, but I have work to do. Thoughts of all that needs doing eat at me. After lunch and a few hours of chores I can feel good about going back to the woods.
The last two hours of daylight I spend perched in my tree. I can read right up to the last half hour when failing light forces me to put the book away and pay attention.
Darkness falls and I climb down from my stand and head home. The woods are still as the wind has died and I crunch along. Suddenly my heart nearly stops. I have walked under a big hemlock. From five feet over my head, there is a whoosh and the sky is blotted out by the six foot wingspan of a big owl I have disturbed.
It flies off and my blood pressure returns to normal. I once again
trudge homeward. I would not have had that experience if I had been home by the fire.
Deer hunting is something I look forward to each year. It is a time to be alone in the woods, a time for meditating and a time to watch nature. I read a lot while in the woods and I often find a sunny spot out of the wind and fall asleep. My snoring probably scares all the deer in the area away, but who cares.
Sometimes I wonder if I am really having fun as the cold rain soaks me or as the wind whips heavy wet snow down my neck. Not at the moment maybe, but the temporary discomfort is only that. Hunting should be a challenge.
Friends and family make deer hunting enjoyable. I look forward to the end of the day when they arrive at our camp or house to tell of their hunts.
We warm up and discuss plans for the next day and share the day's experiences. That too is a big part of hunting.
I know I would be more successful if I spent more time in the woods, but my work ethic always draws me back after a few hours in the woods. Landowners accept that they are never caught up and the same can be said of homeowners.
I don't complain, I like cutting wood and working around the house just as I like to hunt.
When I go out of state to hunt I devote every hour of daylight to the pursuit of game. Or at least I spend all that time in the woods even if I am reading or exploring new territory. Perhaps it is my Yankee frugality that pushes me to make the most of a hunt that has cost me money. Maybe I just accept that I can not run home to do chores.
Both types of hunting are enjoyable. Every few years I get a buck, but bagging a deer is not something I have to do to make the hunt successful. A buck is a bonus. Hunting is much more than killing an animal.