Alex D.
If there is any one person who is responsible for introducing me to hunting, it is my brother, Tim (Crafty Woodsman). So, I feel compelled to start with his story, before I can explain my own. When Tim was a little boy, maybe 6 or 7 years old, he would spend his days playing in the soccer field behind our house or across the highway at the local pond. While I was skip roping and playing with my friends, my brother was looking for the wild spaces and watching the animals around us.
I only remember the sound of my mother hollering at him for ruining the good towels as he drags a splattered red lumpy towel into the backyard. He spent his summer days trapping gophers. When I grew older I asked him how he did it he said, "I found some rope, I tied a slip knot, and I sat down wind and waited". To this day, I have no idea what compels a boy to sit patiently for an endless amount of time to wait for a furry brown gopher head to pop up. He certainly doesn't display this kind of patience for anything else in life. Another memory I have is stinky tanks in the backyard filled with the craw fish Tim caught. I have no clue what happened to all of my brother's animals, but as he got older, he learned how to butcher and cook these strange critters. My brother had no body to teach him about the animals that he admired, so he observed them and let nature be his teacher. When he could, he got his hunting license and PAL.
Over the years, he tried to introduce us to his passion, but none of us took interest. I took no interest while I was in University and trying to figure out this adult thing. During these years, my brother and I grew apart. We had very little to talk about and spent almost no time together. However, when I fell on some tough times, my brother opened his home to me while I tried to get back onto my feet. I was incredibly grateful to Tim, so when he would come home from a goose hunt with a load of bird that needed cleaning, I would hop up to help. When he would come home from a deer hunt and need help cutting the heart and liver to dehydrate for dog treats I jumped at the chance to pull my weight.
After watching Tim process animals and listening to his hunting stories, I started to really think about these animals for the first time and I reflected on how they can provide us with meat that is healthy, taste, and sustainable. I started to think about how Tim was putting more money into conservation than I ever had, even though I ranted about how we need to do something to protect the environment. I thought about how Tim knew exactly where his meat was coming from and how he could see the kind of life it led. He knew where it ate, where it slept, and where it walked. The animal could live its whole life and never be hunted. Where as cattle, will only ever become a meal. The deer goes about its life as it would naturally in the wild, until one day it comes face to face with a human, and neither the deer nor the hunter knew if that would be the last day for that deer. The deer has a fair chance. In fact, I had already seen several deer escape my dear brother that season.
I thought about all these things for a long time, until Tim asked me if I wanted to join him on a hunt. He wanted someone to share the experience with and I was glad for the opportunity to get to know him better and to share this with him. The first season, I just stalked my brother, as quietly as I could manage, I listened to his instructions, and I watched what he did. We sat, we froze, we stalked and we repeated. I loved every minute of it. I didn't take a single shot.
Deer season was over, but I was just getting started. I began the online hunters education course and worked on it through the winter months. In the spring, I got my Possession and Acquisition License. By the time next hunting season was around, I was legal. Fortunate for me, Tim had everything we needed. I only had to show up. He already had everything packed in the camper and the truck loaded with gear. We drove out to our WMU and the whole way Tim talked to me about how and when I would take the shot. We went over every possible scenario. He told me to practice identifying the deer we drove past and to train my eye to go straight for the lungs. He mentioned, if it isn't broadside but looking right at me to aim for the center of the white bib. He said, always look for a tree to lean on for support. If you loose your sight in the scope slowly pull back and refocus and go back in. Exhale. Pay attention to the direction the deer runs. Don't chase after it, you don't want to bump it. When we arrived and set up camp we were filled with excitement. My mind was filled with my brother's lessons.
The next morning, we were getting ready to head out. We were smoking our gear on a tipi over the fire. I am soaking up the heat of the fire because it is a frigid cold day, minus 30 before the wind chill sets in. Tim walks across the camp and fires up the quad. He looks across the frozen gravel quarry and sees a White Tail wandering into our camp and casually grazing on streaks of grass. His eyes bulge out of his head in disbelief. He looks down at his phone and sees that it is 4 minutes until legal light. So we stood there, beside the quad and waited. He whispers to me, "this is unbelievable" or something a little more profane. When we see the clock tick over legal light, he picks up his rifle and fires. Our first morning of the hunt, a deer walks into our camp to greet us. Oh, did I mention, that when Tim whispered deer, I ducked behind the quad like a raging bison was there. My first reaction to seeing a deer I could shoot, is something my brother will not let me live down. It was also not something that filled me with confidence, and in my heart I resolved that maybe this wouldn't be my year. If I didn't get one it would be okay.
After the excitement of the morning, we went out again. Tim cautioned me, he said, this morning was dumb luck. It won't be that easy again. Today was suppose to be a fact finding mission. We were looking for sign and getting a sense of where they would be. We drove into the bush, we stalked around and we moved to another cut line. It was just like he said, a fact finding mission. We stalked the same line we had been last year and bumped a few deer. My brother said, if we are quiet and walk forward they may cross our path again. We moved up at a painstaking speed and crossed their fresh tracks. They had done exactly what he said, but were a little faster than we were. I think Tim was disappointed, but I was amazed at his ability to predict their behaviour.
We turned around and rushed back to the quad. He was thinking ahead to the next place to go. My eyes were on my feet and my mind adrift when I ran straight into his camo covered back. He whispered, "deer". My gaze followed his pointed finger, but I didn't see anything. I said as much and he said "staring straight at us 20 yards away". My eyes hadn't seen their first deer and was still adjusting. Suddenly, I saw them STARING STRAIGHT AT US 20 YARDS AWAY! Tim handed my the gun. I felt no weight in the gun, in my hands it was as light as a feather. I pulled the scope up to my eye and completely lost sight of the deer. I lifted my head to pull back from the scope and refocus. In the corner of my eye I see my brother vibrating with adrenaline. I lean my head back into the scope and stay focused on the doe. Slowly, I exhale, pause, and pull the trigger. I didn't feel any recoil on my brother's powerful rifle. Maybe it was the layers of clothing, maybe it was the adrenaline. Immediately, I felt immense gratitude and happiness.
My brother grabbed the gun from my hand and another shot boomed. I thought, somehow I had made a mistake, but my brother exclamed "another deer". It took me a moment to figure out what happened. There was a second deer past my doe and Tim had got it. My brother immediately barreled into the woods after the deer. Within seconds, the first doe was down and the second one sprang deeper into the woods. If you would have ask me, I would had never been able to say which direction it went in. My eyes were on my doe, but I followed my brother into the bush like I had been doing all day. We didn't have to go far to find his. As soon as he saw his deer down, he let out a huge breath of relief. I know how tormented he is when an animal he shoots at isn't found. The pursuit of the animal that follows out of guilt, dread, hope, uncertainty. This was not going to be one of those stories.
He immediately pulls out a smoke to scratch the adrenaline itch. I ask for one too. The tobacco was all I could think about the moment I pulled the trigger. Tim smirks, because he knows I haven't smoked in years. He hands me the cigarette and I start to tear it up. Now it is my turn to smirk. I walked back to my doe with tobacco in one hand and place my other hand in the warm fur. I thank the doe for it's life and promise her I will honour her body. I wondered if my Metis ancestors offered tobacco to their animals. I wonder if they hunted in these forests too. In that moment, I feel closer to them.
Tim tosses the "meat sack" into the sled and I feel sickened. I think back to this morning when Tim dragged the doe across the ground to our butcher site. Tim and I view these animals very different in that moment. Tim see's them as meat already. His mind is on gut, skin, pack. I still see the deer as an animal. It still deserved dignity while we transport it back to the butcher site. Tim has immeasurable respect for the animals of our forests and he shows respect by doing a legal, clean hunt, and quality process. He respect the animal by knowing the animals habitat and behaviour. But the second he knows the deer is down for good, it is meat for his freezer.
But I don't see a downed deer as meat, not until we begin the process to gut it. It is through the butcher process that an animal is transformed from animal to meat. I often wonder, if this difference is a matter of individuality or of gender. It makes me think of other differences as well. Differences, I will have to explore in another blog.
Thanks to my brother, Tim (Crafty Woodsman) we had an incredible, successful hunt that resulted in wonderful memories and food. He has introduced me to the natural world and has connected me to the animals that will nourish me and my family. Finally, I understand my brother and am grateful to see the natural world through his eyes.
