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I
was listening to a local radio show the other day on my way home from
work. It was a talk show dealing with hunting and fishing. As you can
imagine, this time of year, the main topic was deer hunting, in the
spring it will be turkey hunting and in the summer it will be fishing.
On
this particular evening, the topic was the harvest of does and its
benefits to the deer herd. The talk soon wound its way to the new
regulations in Alabama concerning limits on bucks, quality deer
management and deer management in general. Everyone from hosts to
callers chimed in with their theories, advice and the ways they did
things. After a while one of the hosts made the comment, almost to
himself it seemed, he wished deer hunting could be fun again.
I
understood what he meant. When we were younger, we didn’t worry about
buck to doe ratios, herd genetics, the breeding potential of bucks, etc.
Back then deer weren’t managed very much by man; Mother Nature managed
them and we hunters were the hammer on her anvil of selection. We just
hunted deer and shot whatever bucks we saw because they were likely to
be the only deer we saw. Dumb deer died first, smart deer died old.
Now
don’t get me wrong, I feel like we are in the golden age of whitetail
hunting and I wouldn’t go back to those ‘good ole’ days for
anything except for one thing. Now I’m nearing the half-century mark,
I must admit, I wish deer hunting was fun again.
Back
when I was between the ages of 16 and 40 things were different.
In
those days, I could stay up until midnight or one in the morning and
still get up before dawn and head out into the woods and not look back
until dark. Now, I can go to bed with the chickens and could still use
another hour of sleep. I used to have no problem staying awake in a tree
stand, now I do.
I
could sit on a stand all day without getting so stiff I couldn’t move.
I
had vision like a hawk back then and didn’t wear glasses. I didn’t
have to squint to see and didn’t have to worry about watching my
breath on a cold day so I wouldn’t fog up my glasses and be blind.
In
those days, I could drag a deer a mile or two back to the truck, now I
wait for them to walk into the logging road before I shoot or at least
to a spot where I can get the truck to them anyway.
Back
then, I couldn’t wait to harvest a deer, now I think about whether or
not I feel like cleaning one before I pull the trigger.
When
I was in my twenties I didn’t even own a pair of gloves, now, not only
do I have a pair, I also carry hand-warmers.
I
wasn’t on blood pressure medicine until just a few years ago and didn’t
have to worry about whether or not deer would react to human waste …by
the gallon (good old diuretics).
In
my younger days, I could go to the woods with nothing but a candy bar to
keep me going, now if I don’t get a good breakfast, I get weak.
Back
then, according to the scientists, we didn’t have global warming and
it sure seems the mornings are colder now than they used to be. The
idiot who thought up global warming never spent a January day in an
Alabama tree stand! I find in the last few years, the Earth has gotten
colder. I get colder faster and easier than then and it takes me longer
to warm up. Last year about this time, I got so cold in a shooting house
I had to take one of my jackets and wrap my feet and legs to warm up. I
was wearing long underwear, insulated hunting pants and still darn near
froze solid. When I got back to the lodge and looked at the thermometer
it was a crisp 47o.
My
bones didn’t hurt as much back then either.
My
hearing was better as well, not only could I hear a twig snap but I
could hear the firing pin hit the primer on the rifle shell and I always
took comfort in the solid BOOM of the muzzle blast. Now I cannot hear
the firing pin at all and the muzzle blast is barely perceptible through
this ringing in my left ear.
There
have been a few improvements though, I must admit.
I
no longer have to save my money for two months to buy a box of bullets.
Although I have been hunting with the same rifle for over 30 years, it
seems I’ve finally gotten it broken in because things aren’t as hard
to hit with it.
I
am one of the lucky ones to have several nice racks on the wall, too
many, my wife says. (But
then she never did understand the concept of there is no such thing as
"too many deer heads." She also doesn’t understand the
purchase of another freezer is justifiable when you run out of room in
your current freezer for one more deer.)
I
also now get the pleasure of seeing my child experience all of the
things I love about hunting.
The
sunrises are just a little better. The birds all sound a little sweeter.
The woods smell a little "woodsier." I enjoy just watching a
group of deer in a food plot stand around and be deer.
Although
I am young by many standards and am so healthy it ought to be against
the law, I wonder if part of me is starting to see the end of the line
coming and starting to appreciate the joy, beauty and wonder of being in
the woods even more than when I was younger.
When
my time finally comes, if I have any say so, I know where it will be. I
hope I’ll be either in a tree stand waiting for one more deer or in
some hardwood forest waiting for a turkey to gobble. Hopefully, they’ll
find me next to my last deer or gobbler and I can promise you not only
will there be a smile on my face, but hunting will definitely be fun
again the following season.
Ralph Ricks is the
manager of Quality Cooperative, Inc. in Greenville. |
