DeerCamp
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I wanted to share something that has been on my mind lately, and see if anyone else relates.
When I first started hunting, it was honestly a thrill just to see a deer. Passing a critter, much less anything with hard horns wasn't on the agenda. I seldom ever thought about what a deer was doing outside of the few minutes that I waited, sometime patiently, for a clean shot.
Deer camp in Texas and then Southern Arkansas was often full of 10 or more people crammed into a singlewide trailer on the edge of a timber company lease or a tent on a ranch, and getting the chance to come dragging a deer back into camp was the thrill of a teenage boys life.
Fast forward... a "few" years and I have a place of my own now. I hunt 4 or 5 different properties, but this 40 acres is special... it's mine. I work the land, sow the seeds and hope for rain. I care about it.
Somewhere in all this happening, my wife decided that if I was going to be in the woods from October to December, she might as well learn to hunt so we could spend more time together. That was 10 years ago. Of course, what I didn't know then is that she was going to become a skilled hunter in her own right, more patient and deliberate than me, and for quite a few years that followed I was the one sitting at home entertaining kids while I got pictures from HER from the field.
But now that we have our own place, and we've done the habitat work. The hours, the sweat, and the stands, things are... a little more complicated.
I run 6 different cell cameras on this piece of property, which is also the same property where I lay down my head most nights, and I've come to know these woods and these animals in a complicated way.
Yes, these animals put food on the table, and I still get just as excited seeing brown movement as I did 25 years ago. I haven't lost the passion for hunting even a little bit. In fact, the part after the kill has become so much more important to me. We take care in processing and packaging, and try not to let anything edible go to waste.
But now I've watched these fawns be born. I've seen them slip past predators by mere minutes, and I've watched them nurse. I've seen them at 7 days old and maybe 7 years old. And on an almost daily basis, I get pictures of these deer and can identify many of them with a quick zoom. Some of them have names (Scar, Spots, Buddy) that at first was meant to simply identify them, but has since become endearing. (Whatever happened to old scar anyways? We'll probably never know for sure.)
And we are nearing a point on the property, where it may be time to take a few does out of the herd. Best I can tell, we haven't been losing many to predators, most does have fawns with them, and the bucks are fewer and farther between outside of the rut as the does have firmly planted a territorial briar fence around this place.
And in that I have to admit, it gives me pause. Even a buck that we've watched grow holds a little bit of a special place, not just the maternal aspect. I'm constantly thinking about and probably overthinking what the impacts will be from the trigger decisions we make.
There's such an easy disconnect from the nicely packaged ground protein at Kroger, and these animals out here.
Don't worry - I'm not going vegan anytime soon.
But as I prep our gear for tomorrow's youth hunt, I want my kids to be free to make their own hunting decisions. If my daughter wants to harvest the first doe she see's in the morning, I'll be one proud father. No less proud than if she holds out for a mature buck. Or if she decides not to take anything at all. She'll help me field dress and hang it, and then later she will know where her food came from in a way that so many people don't.
I also know that it's likely I will recognize the deer. I will have a little history with it, and will appreciate it all the more for it.
She probably won't think any of these things. She'll just be an excited kid, and I may even be a little envious of the simplicity.
Like I said - complicated.
When I first started hunting, it was honestly a thrill just to see a deer. Passing a critter, much less anything with hard horns wasn't on the agenda. I seldom ever thought about what a deer was doing outside of the few minutes that I waited, sometime patiently, for a clean shot.
Deer camp in Texas and then Southern Arkansas was often full of 10 or more people crammed into a singlewide trailer on the edge of a timber company lease or a tent on a ranch, and getting the chance to come dragging a deer back into camp was the thrill of a teenage boys life.
Fast forward... a "few" years and I have a place of my own now. I hunt 4 or 5 different properties, but this 40 acres is special... it's mine. I work the land, sow the seeds and hope for rain. I care about it.
Somewhere in all this happening, my wife decided that if I was going to be in the woods from October to December, she might as well learn to hunt so we could spend more time together. That was 10 years ago. Of course, what I didn't know then is that she was going to become a skilled hunter in her own right, more patient and deliberate than me, and for quite a few years that followed I was the one sitting at home entertaining kids while I got pictures from HER from the field.
But now that we have our own place, and we've done the habitat work. The hours, the sweat, and the stands, things are... a little more complicated.
I run 6 different cell cameras on this piece of property, which is also the same property where I lay down my head most nights, and I've come to know these woods and these animals in a complicated way.
Yes, these animals put food on the table, and I still get just as excited seeing brown movement as I did 25 years ago. I haven't lost the passion for hunting even a little bit. In fact, the part after the kill has become so much more important to me. We take care in processing and packaging, and try not to let anything edible go to waste.
But now I've watched these fawns be born. I've seen them slip past predators by mere minutes, and I've watched them nurse. I've seen them at 7 days old and maybe 7 years old. And on an almost daily basis, I get pictures of these deer and can identify many of them with a quick zoom. Some of them have names (Scar, Spots, Buddy) that at first was meant to simply identify them, but has since become endearing. (Whatever happened to old scar anyways? We'll probably never know for sure.)
And we are nearing a point on the property, where it may be time to take a few does out of the herd. Best I can tell, we haven't been losing many to predators, most does have fawns with them, and the bucks are fewer and farther between outside of the rut as the does have firmly planted a territorial briar fence around this place.
And in that I have to admit, it gives me pause. Even a buck that we've watched grow holds a little bit of a special place, not just the maternal aspect. I'm constantly thinking about and probably overthinking what the impacts will be from the trigger decisions we make.
There's such an easy disconnect from the nicely packaged ground protein at Kroger, and these animals out here.
Don't worry - I'm not going vegan anytime soon.
But as I prep our gear for tomorrow's youth hunt, I want my kids to be free to make their own hunting decisions. If my daughter wants to harvest the first doe she see's in the morning, I'll be one proud father. No less proud than if she holds out for a mature buck. Or if she decides not to take anything at all. She'll help me field dress and hang it, and then later she will know where her food came from in a way that so many people don't.
I also know that it's likely I will recognize the deer. I will have a little history with it, and will appreciate it all the more for it.
She probably won't think any of these things. She'll just be an excited kid, and I may even be a little envious of the simplicity.
Like I said - complicated.
