What’s the Deal with Whitetail Hunting? — Live Wild
A friend asked me in passing the other day: “So, what do you do while you’re whitetail hunting?” My gut reaction was to laugh at the question, but when you step back, that type of question speaks to the opportunities and adventures I take for granted.
Growing up immersed in the hunting, fishing, and camping aspects of being outdoors, weekends like the opening day of deer hunting or extended weekend ice fishing trips were and continue to be the norm. Sometimes you have to look at the situation and recognize how unique of an opportunity it is, while also acknowledging that it’s definitely strange. 2020 has been a year of strange, and while my opening weekend of rifle hunting for whitetail looked a little different than usual, it was still an amazing opportunity to get outside, see relatives from afar, and chase that elusive trophy whitetail.
The Gear and the Prep
I love preparing and brainstorming on outdoor events. Laying out my gear, meticulously crossing it off of my packing lists, and visualizing how the weekend will play out make the experience complete. Field and Stream has an awesome packing guide here, for next year! I’m prepared for the hunt before I even leave town, and I’d have it no other way. However, there was one new piece of “gear” that was a sticky wheel in my ability to visualize the weekend: the Hornet!
For COVID safety reasons, I stayed in a Hornet trailer on the hunting property for the weekend. It was the perfect two person hunting trailer, and once we combined the “Mr. Buddy” heater and the zero degree sleeping bag, I found it to be perfectly comfortable.
The rest of the gear was pretty standard — packing for a mild Saturday with highs in the mid 30’s led to a pretty typical gun hunting wardrobe. Three layers on top and bottom before the outerwear, with pack boots and a slew of glove/mitten/face mask combinations.
The Whitetail Hunt
Each new year brings with it a host of emotions: the expectation you place in harvesting a dream whitetail deer, the joy you feel in being back and returning to places that you love, and the dread you know accompanies a 4:30 wake up call.
We were up and out the door in a flash on Saturday morning, hiking through the property with little more than a sliver of the silver moon to guide us. Dressing for an eleven hour hunt and a twenty minute hustle through the woods are two different tasks, and I always despise how warm I get on the way to the stand each year. I’m always overwhelmed by excitement as I rush to keep up with men even more excited than I am, pushing our way through the woods and stomping over semi-frozen puddles. And then, after all of the rushing and the fist bumping and the “good luck-ing,” I get to the bottom of my tree, totally sweated through my base layer. Gross feeling, but one we just have to deal with.
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The climb into the stand this year was tough. My tree stand is quite tall — I climb a lean-to ladder stand the first twelve feet of the way, and then monkey my way back and forth on tree steps up the side of the oak until I can get a foot onto the steel platform and hoist myself to safety. The first time I sat in the stand, I was confident I was one hundred feet in the air. Now, I’m guessing more like sixteen or eighteen. But regardless, sixteen feet in the pitch dark was tough this year. I had to cheat and turn my headlamp on as I neared the top, not confident enough in my handholds to risk a fall.
I wasn’t sitting for longer than fifteen minutes in the utter black when I heard a loud deer snort coming from the swamp to my left. I couldn’t help but smile, elated to be back chasing a trophy buck. I realize now that excitement in the hunt comes from the unknown. Each rustle of underbrush could be “that buck” walking up toward your stand. Each flash of brown amongst the alders might just be the trophy you’ve been waiting for.
The whitetail activity was constant and methodical this year as unsuspecting prey passed through just under my stand, and shots popped off in all directions. It’s hard to capture the sense of wonder when you hear a shot that could be from someone in your party, the desire you feel as you will an animal your direction, and the exhaustion you face as your head hits the pillow after one of the longest days of the year.
No horns were had this year, and I thought to myself “why write up the trip if there’s no end product?” But that got me thinking… was there really no end product to this hunt?
Why Hunt?
Is it only a successful hunt if you kill something? For years, I would have told you yes. But, like so many of the outdoor activities I love, whitetail hunting is rooted in tradition, family, and mystery.
Hunting with my grandfather’s rifle, staying on land that we have hunted for twenty years and know inside and out, cooking the same gargantuan breakfast on Sunday morning and sitting in the barn after a freezing day in the stand for Saturday dinner, these pieces make whitetail hunting so much more than deer. Traditions are always growing and changing, but these things will always drive the weekend of opening gun hunting. You never know when hunts will start to look different, and I remind myself that you can’t ever take advantage of all of the little things you love without realizing.
When my friend asked me, “So what do you do you’re whitetail hunting,” my obvious answer was “well… We hunt?” He meant, “what do you do to pass the time?” But it’s not about passing time, making the day go faster, or not getting bored. It’s about enjoying the woods and the experience while hoping for something spectacular to walk by you, and acknowledging that sometimes, your eyes get droopy and you have to fight to stay engaged. Because the hunt is unique, and the hunt is mysterious, and you never know when something incredible could happen.
Obviously, I would rather bag a trophy than not, but the experience is made great by the people and the stories, not just the antlers on the wall.
Originally published at https://alwayslivewild.com on November 23, 2020.
