How I Got Here...

A few months back I got a negative comments on a post I'd made about finally getting into the woods to hunt. It was my first.  I'm still amazed that people find my blog and actually read it!  I decided to ignore it and move on. But it's just sat there, like an elephant in the room.

The comment wasn't particularly vitriolic, I'm sure other bloggers and hunters have endured much worse.  But if I'm honest, it did bother me.  I was told I was a murderer, had a "shit life" and called a jerk-off.  I did find it interesting that the poster chose to remain anonymous.  A nameless, faceless entity sitting behind a computer screen still has a right to an opinion but  I've chosen to not reply, as it seemed superfluous to debate a coward.  Make no mistake- I think this person a coward. Spewing words is easy, taking responsibility for them is not.  But it made me wonder, is that what people think?  That we as hunters are murdering, marauding, bloodthirsty killers.  I'm sure there are some, but I think they are an aberration not the norm.

I can't speak for every hunter out there in the woods.  I can only speak for myself.  I didn't come to hunting in order to kill.  Certainly I was aware that it would be a part of it, but it wasn't the reason.  I came to hunting after a circuitous and thoughtful journey.  I'd grown up around hunters, I'd been exposed to shooting sports my entire life.  One of my favorite Christmases ever included a Cabbage Patch doll and a 12 gauge pump shotgun under the tree.  Most of the men and a hand full of women in my life have hunted at some point.  Hunting was not a foreign concept to me.  I just didn't see myself doing it until around 2004.

We had passed through Fort Worth Texas and drove by the stockyards there.  I was struck by the enormity of the place.  When we stopped for a meal, it was hard to eat the hamburger in front of me and not think of the beautiful creatures we'd passed on our drive.  As a child, I was well aware of where my food came from.  My father raised pigs and hunted.  My uncles raised cattle.  But the years had softened that awareness and made it a vague idea.  I felt such shame that day realizing that someone else had taken the responsibility for the death that resulted in my meal.

I considered a vegetarian lifestyle so I did some research.  I came to realize that even a completely vegan life was not one free of death.  Pesticides and farm equipment destroy habitat and kill animals (birds, insects, rodents and rabbits) even as they produce the soybeans that made the tofu burger I was considering.  Why should I be accepting of this death but not that of other animals?

How could I provide my body with protein and not be the agent of another creatures death?  I found no answer.  So, the question became how can I provide my body with protein in a way that honors and doesn't minimize the life of the creature that died to provide it?  I came to hunting as the answer.


Each season, the deer I kill provide my family with sustenance and nourishment throughout the year.  The cattle in the stockyard, the bird nesting in the soybean field, the insect munching on the soybean- their chances of survival are fairly slim compared to the deer that cross under my stand. I thank God, the universe, Mother Nature or whoever it is you believe runs things each time I'm given the gift of a successful hunt. 
 
The first deer I killed was an emotional experience.  Despite having been around when my father slaughtered hogs, I'd never knowingly and intentionally killed anything larger than an insect.  I even let snakes go on about their business.  The majestic creature that fell to my bow that evening will forever be etched in my memory and will always be a part of who I am.  Through hunting, I feel a more direct connection with the animal I consume.  How could I waste or minimize the sacrifice the deer makes that I may survive?  It's easier to do when my meat is wrapped in cellophane on a styrofoam platter, harder when I've killed then helped process the animal.

So, anonymous poster I won't apologize for hunting.  It's a thoughtful choice I've made.  I'm sorry you don't see it that way.  Had you been brave enough to own up to your comments, perhaps we could have had a discussion about it.

Texas Two Step at the Quatro B…

When I sit and reflect about the events of the last three years I’m often stunned by the amazing things that I’ve gotten to do.  I’ve had the good fortune to be surrounded by some great hunting mentors.  I’ve also gotten the opportunity to hunt in some amazing places!  A few weeks ago, I got to go back to TEXAS with some folks I definitely consider mentors.

Let me rewind a bit….last April a group of 9 folks and myself made the trek to D’Hanis, Texas to try our bows at some exotics.  As a relatively new hunter, I’m acutely aware of my limitations.  That trip certainly pushed them, and not always in a good way. One of our party sat in a bar stool chained to a tree for a deer stand. I would have been completely uncomfortable with that situation.  And while I certainly enjoyed the camaraderie, the hunting was less than wonderful.  The animals were not healthy  looking. They were few and far between.  A handful of our group killed a few animals and we DID have fun, but the trip was not really what I expected.  All I brought home was fleas.

Contrasting that trip is our recent one to the Quatro B Ranch.  The term “night and day” comes to mind. 

We left my house at 3:30 in the morning headed to the Quatro B Ranch in D’Hanis, Texas, a 10 hour drive.  I couldn’t help but wonder if this was going to be worth it.  I’d checked out their website, but appearances can be deceiving.  In this case…they were not.

From the moment the gates opened I knew that this was going to be a COMPLETELY different experience.

We were met in the lodge (which is beautiful) by the owner Doug Boazman and our guide, Carlos.  After unloading the vehicles and choosing our bunks (the bunk house is amazing) we reconvened in the lodge.

Doug went over the rules, discussed our skill levels and reviewed what we were looking for.  The package I chose included a horned exotic, a Texas whitetail buck and two hogs.  I added a red stag doe and an axis doe for a minimal fee.  Carlos then took time and reviewed the animals, their habits, distinguishing features with us.  He had a wonderful reference book as well.  I was the only one in our party that really needed it, but it was a great resource.  Fallow doe vs. axis doe?  There is a difference! Now I felt confident that I would be able to tell the difference once I was on the stand.

We took a brief tour of the ranch with Carlos.  It’s truly an amazing place.  It’s situated on part of an old GM test track.  Do you know how surreal it is to be driving along a test track and see a herd of fallow deer cross not 25 yards in front of you? 

The animals we saw were in fantastic shape.  Healthy, slick and beautiful.  I couldn’t wait to get into the stand.

This was going to be an amazing trip. 

Journey to the bow...

The pathway to my "new" interest in bow hunting actually began about 4 years ago. I blame my friends Rhonda and Billie.

In the spring of 2005 I attended my second BOW (Becoming an Outdoors Woman)weekend. The Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries puts these weekends on each spring and Rhonda had invited me to attend that spring's festivities with her again. Since I'd had such a fantastic time the first go round, I overnighted my registration to secure the classes I was hoping to get into. One of these was archery.

I'm an only child. My Dad tried to get me interested in hunting. He bought me 410 shotgun when I was around 7. At 8 or so he bought me a beautiful 22 caliber rifle. But I just didn't like hunting. You had to be WAY too quiet and you had to get up way too early. And besides, bunnies and squirrels were cute and I didn't want to EAT them. He took me turkey hunting and duck hunting. I actually did shoot at a duck once, but didn't hit it. When I was around 10 or so my Dad decided to undertake bow hunting. In the spirit of the moment he also purchased me a small Browning bow to play with in the back yard. I lost interest fairly quickly.

At age 12 in what I imagine was a last ditch effort to get me interested in hunting for Christmas he got me one of the only two things I'd asked for. A 12 gauge shotgun. Pump action per my request. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL! I also got the Cabbage Patch doll I wanted so desperately. It was a good Christmas. Alas, all of Daddy's efforts proved to be fruitless. While I loved shooting, hunting held no appeal.

Fast forward to 2005. The term "helicopter mom" would definitely be an appropriate moniker for yours truly. For 15 years, my schedule had revolved around dance class, dance practice, homework, Beta Club, 4H projects, football games...basically whatever Claire was interested in at any given moment I was there to provide transportation to and from or a hot glue gun or snacks. Need a PTA vice president? I was your girl. Need a volunteer for your booth? Sign me up. I was THAT mom.

It was with a beginning realization that my daughter would be leaving to go to college in 3 short years nipping at my brain that I packed my bags and headed to Camp Grant Walker for a BOW weekend. I had no idea that a seed would be planted that weekend.

We walked over to the archery field and got our equipment. A left handed bow for me please. We shot without sights. I drew back, settled myself,carefully aligned my shot, held my breath and released the string. Thunk. Hitting the target was one of the most amazing things I'd ever done. The instructors offered to take us to the 3D course if we'd like to go. I wanted to yell HELL YES!

After the class the instructors were talking about how women were becoming interested in bow hunting. I left the class intrigued but with no real plan to pursue bow hunting. I had dance line uniforms to add rhinestones to I didn't have time to HUNT!

The path to bow hunting to another turn when I ran through two does and a HUGE buck on my way through Vidalia one morning during Claire's senior year of high school. It was to be one of the most horrifying experiences of my life.

Mike, Claire, Claire's boyfriend and I were on our way to Baton Rouge when the deer appeared seemingly out of nowhere. There was no way to avoid them. I hit all three. I managed to avoid directly hitting the buck. He slid across the hood of my car and was uninjured. The impact broke one of the doe's leg. The sight of her running away injured will always haunt me. The other doe was seizing in the median and died. We were very fortunate. We were uninjured but shaken up. I've never left home at night without my Mom telling me to watch for deer, but this was 9am. Mike doesn't remember it, but he turned to me and said "This is one of the reason's I hunt...without hunting the population would explode, it'd be just like Pud and Diane's"

My Uncle Pud and Aunt Diane lived in upstate New York. When we had went to visit, we were initially amazed by all the deer in their neighborhood. We woke one morning to two does nibbling outside the dining room window. However, we quickly realized that the joy of this sight was a double edged sword. The roads were practically littered with deer carcasses. It was horrible.

It's now 2009. Claire is a college sophomore. I've been working full time for almost 2 years. I'd read books, become obsessed with Sookie Stackhouse, remodeled the house. I still wasn't sure what to do with myself.

I was at work the first week of September when a co-worker and good friend, Billie mentioned that the group of women that she hunts with had a spot available on a bow hunt in Alabama. She was lamenting the fact that she didn't know anyone that would be interested in going. I asked how much the hunt would be and said I might would like to go. Billie was very polite and said to let her know for sure in the next week or so.

"Do you have a bow?" she asked.

I answered honestly, "No, but we can buy me one"

She just looked at me and said "Ooooookaaay".

I bothered her about it over the next week. She kept saying that she'd check with Tes and see if the spot was still available. I'm pretty sure she thought I was crazy. She finally said "ok, if you want the spot it's yours." I came home that night and told Mike that I was going on a bow hunt with Billie. I know he thought I was crazy.

On 09/28/09 I wrote a check to The Shed Hunting Lodge for half the amount and mailed it to Tes. On 10/12/09 I wrote a check to Blade and Barrel and bought my bow. On 11/01/09 I killed my first deer, a beautiful 5 point buck. I'm pretty much hooked now.

I'm planning on blogging about the journey. I've already figured out that there is a bit of a learning curve. A pretty steep one.

Is there a designer backpack that comes in camo? I'm a girlie girl with a bow. There will be glitter involved. :)