Friday, December 30, 2005
A Certain Sadness When Deer Season Closes
There is always a touch of sadness as we ring in the New Year. It starts creeping up on me about now, and by New Years Day, the feeling is too strong to ignore.
It’s a feeling of loss. One of knowing the deer hunting season is ending for another year, and I get a bit wistful about it. It’s like saying goodbye to an old friend, one we hope to greet again nine months from now.
My thoughts turn to thoughts of past hunts, the unexpected bonus of seeing a huge buck, the knowledge that the deer are slowing down as we enter the winter months, and knowing that my hunting buddies are sharing my loss.
I remember the early October hunts in shirt-sleeves, and the continuous east winds that seem to have become a greater part of our autumn weather than ever before. Looking back, it’s easy to see how a buck or two of sizable proportions managed to slip past me without being seen.
It’s coming to full draw on a decent buck, and knowing that to touch the release trigger would mean a dead buck. It’s also knowing that on a good many occasions, a shot was turned down for any one of a dozen possible reasons.
My hunting is an extension of my love of this outdoor pastime, and it’s my way of managing my deer herd. It also is something that means a great deal to me, and hunting is a constant learning experience.
Hunting, since I manufacture C.P. Oneida Eagle bows and the Pollington red-dot sight and Pro Release, means testing my products before selling them. I wouldn’t sell you or anyone else a bow unless I knew my name was going on the product and that it was built to perfection. In-the-field use of my products allow me to determine if they are right for hunter use.
My bow needs are pretty simple: I want a bow that is easy to draw, has a smooth draw curve, is plenty fast, and is accurate without recoil or vibration. Hunters want and demand these things, and my field testing is rigorous in an effort to make them perfect, every time.
My hunting isn’t all about my archery business. It is a deeply personal, heart-felt thing, that makes me feel good. Being outdoors, whether it is on my dozer straightening up one of my roads if it gets muddy or putting up a new stand, is very rewarding.
Matching wits with a keen-nosed old buck is just about as much fun as a person can have while wearing camouflage clothing. There are certain checks and balances that come into play when hunting, and the pendulum swings in both directions. It swung my way for a 160-class buck this fall but swung the opposite way for the huge buck that I wrote about last night.
There are always highs and lows during a deer season. The lows come if a hunter gets busted by a buck or old doe, or when the wind hovers for a week at a time from an easterly direction. Hunters rejoice when the wind swings, and blows out of the southwest, west or northwest.
We take great pleasure from small things. A well-placed shot, the sighting of a buck we’ve never seen before, having a first-time hunter remember his lessons and shoot a nice deer.
We revel in the eager anticipation when we see a good buck moving slowly down a trail in our direction, and we feel frustration when that buck turns, for no apparent reason, and moves off on a different tangent.
Hunting is certainly much more than killing, and if we were to kill a deer every time we hunted, it would soon become boring. We set our expectations at a reasonable level, and if our buck exceeds those expectations, we are happier than ever.
We live for the camaraderie of the hunt, the friendships made, and the needs we have to share our love of the sport with a kindred spirit. We know we can place high expectations on ourself but must temper our expectations of others.
It’s important for us to strive for the perfect shot every time, and coach other hunters to do the same. We must seek ways to make our hunts as sporting as possible, and to enjoy the bounty of nature that we have.
Such thoughts are bumping around inside my head as another hunting season winds down. We know that three-fourths of the year will pass before we start to hunt again, and in many respects, that is a good thing.
It makes us appreciate what we have, and to work hard to maintain it for this and future generations.—The Whitetail Wizard