Choose to Hunt

THE TEMPERATURE dropped as the sun began its descent below the treeline.

There was plenty of light left, but the shadows had grown longer, and the feel of the woods shifted. It was THE time to be in the woods—the last hour before sunset.

As I scanned the shooting lanes of the thick, swampy Southeast Texas landscape I saw antlers. At first it seemed as if I were looking at a small buck with an equally small rack, but then I realized it was standing in a low spot. When it stepped up, I could see the entire body and rack and realized it was a big one.

I slipped the .30-06 into position, but the buck had already crossed the lane into a thicket. There were two main trails in this thicket. One would lead it up a ridge and far away from me. The other would put the buck about 25 yards to my right.

I watched and listened closely. Nothing happened. I waited for what seemed like half an hour, but in reality it was about five minutes and—nothing.

A screeching hawk caught my attention to the right, and when I slowly turned my head to look back toward the deer trail, the buck was standing there. Its nose was to the ground, and it was walking super slow, giving me time to raise my rifle. I aimed just behind the shoulder and gently squeezed the trigger.

The buck hit the ground, swung around and ran back down the trail from which it had appeared. Thirty minutes later, I picked up a very short blood trail realizing the buck had only run 15 yards before expiring.

This was the second biggest buck I had ever taken and the biggest I had taken in East Texas. I felt like the 12-year-old me who had just taken his first deer on the Winkle Ranch, a day lease in Llano County.

By deer standards, this five-year-old buck was old and had survived many hunters, coyotes and other predators. I thanked God for this moment and for the venison it would bring to the table.

I was grateful for other reasons too. The inflation we are all dealing with has made things like hunting more difficult. I almost skipped getting on the lease this season to save money.

It would be easy to act like I’m an outdoor writer who gets paid for every outdoor adventure, but that’s not reality. Although my career has been extremely successful in accolades and longevity, the last few years have been financially challenging when it comes to discretionary money.

Inflation will do that to the working man.

Choosing to hunt has been a challenge and that is because of hunting costs—and in Texas it can cost a lot.

Taking this buck made me realize that I would have missed out on something special if I had not chosen to hunt deer in the 2021-2022 season. This year a well-timed income tax check made getting back on my lease possible, and I plan to put much effort into hunting this year.

Hunting shouldn’t be about the Boone & Crockett score of the bucks, or the number of greenheads in your duck limit. I would have missed out on something special.

It was certainly not about the opinions of some of the sniveling, judgmental keyboard warriors on some hunting social media pages. It should be about the hunting experience and what it means to you.

A big, old mature doe taken on public land where baiting and permanent stands are illegal is easily equal in the challenge department to taking a massive buck on hyper-managed ranches with air-conditioned tower blinds and your choice of trophy bucks.

Neither experience is superior. It’s all in what makes you happy.

Many of us are at a point where we have to truly choose to hunt. Will it be eating out four days a week or a deer lease? Maybe it ends up eating out once a week and both.

Will it be no duck hunting, or making the long walks to that obscure tract you found on the map?

It’s a choice.

This year I chose to hunt. I don’t have to hunt. My personal identity is not wrapped up in it. I could fish for far less expense and have plenty of fun.

Yet, I love the challenge. I love the tradition and love bringing home the key ingredient for deer chili along with wild pork loins, chicken fried turkey breasts and other delicacies. I love the fact that hunting for me is a direct connection to conservation through sustainable use of our resources.

I love honoring what my father, uncle, and others who are no longer with us instilled in me as a young boy. They chose to hunt because it made their life better, and so do I.

Choose well and enjoy every second in the wild, but never let the system rob you of your love of hunting.

 

Email Chester Moore at cmoore@fishgame.com

 

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