WHY I HUNT
Hunting is about spending time with my family. I would much rather spend 10 days a year with my better half then send him off to a “deer camp,” where I stay home while my husband explores new territory and makes memories that last a lifetime. I want to be a part of creating and recreating those memories. Our relationship is strengthened because of the ties we have to hunting.
I hunt because I own a dog and some breeds of dogs were raised over centuries to hunt. Dog training is a rewarding hobby. To acquire a dog that was bred to retrieve waterfowl and work with that animal over time so that it perfects the skill for which it was born, is fun. The dog isn’t perfect, but neither is the trainer. The point is that we have fun and enjoy one another’s company.
I hunt because hunting played a major role in the settling of our country. I’ve had more than one inspirational moment afield when I’ve reflected on the thousands of Native Americans that called the Ochocos home, or stood atop vistas that, according to Lewis and Clark journals, were vantage points for both Native Americans and white settlers. There is a connection that happens, a deepening in the understanding of who I am as an American and an Oregonian.
I hunt because I love to cook and enjoy the health and benefits of eating wildlife. I would much prefer to set our table with elk, deer meat and ducks than I would factory-raised antibiotic-fed chickens and beef. Cooking and serving wild game complements the vegetables and herbs we grow in our garden.
I hunt because I have developed wonderful life-long friendships during the trips that have taken me from Alaska to Maine, and Florida to British Columbia. All of these friendships were developed and strengthened as my friends and I prepared for and carried out hunts of all kinds. I can travel to the far corners of the United States or the heart of the Midwest and recall days afield with friends in pursuit of turkeys, ducks, deer and elk.
I hunt because it brings me closer to the one thing to which I have dedicated my career—wildlife conservation. To most non-hunters, this is the most difficult point to get across. How can destruction of an individual animal demonstrate respect and caring? It doesn’t seem to make sense. Ted Kerasote tried to explain it in his book, Bloodties. Aldo Leopold tried to explain it in his book, A Sand County Almanac. And countless others before and after them have tried to explain it.
I have been writing my entire, life, and it is the one topic I am absolutely convinced cannot be explained. And that is because there are some things so valuable and important, and close to the soul that they shouldn’t be able to be explained. It is something that transcends cultures, races, sexes, ages and everything in between. When you are a hunter, and you have experienced this respect and nurturing for wildlife and habitats, while at the same time harvesting and caring for your harvest, there is a richness about life and our environment, and a special, personal closeness and belonging to the outdoors that simply cannot be matched. And while I come close to experiencing this same level of connection when I birdwatch, canoe, hike or camp, these types of experiences fall short when compared to hunting. And the best thing about it is that I cannot explain why.