I'm not a bigtime poster in this forum, but I wanted to pose this question (not as an attack on anyone, and hopefully not to spur any attacks...just out of curiosity and hopes of generating discussion). It seems a lot of people post about their unhappiness with the herd, lack of deer sightings, animosity toward other hunters due to weapon choice, etc. Now, I'm not an oldtime PA hunter. At 24 yrs of age, I wasn't around to witness decades of hunting in PA, so I'm not really an authority on what it was like, nor can I realistically say whether the deer hunting of today is better or not than it was back then. What I can say, is that I feel that many of us are losing sight on the bigger picture of what hunting encompases. I can honestly say some the best memories and times I had in the PA deer woods in my "youth" have NOTHING to do with killing a deer. Sure, the anticpation of that ultimate goal as a beginning hunter fueled much of my drive, but it wasn't the kills (and I had them) that stick in my mind as much as it was the little things.

For one, all the time I was able to spend with my dad in the woods. From helping me study for the HTE test, to wetting my feet in the woods with pre-12 yr old squirrel hunts, to accompanying me into the deer woods with a gun in hand that he knowingly would not fire until AFTER I got a deer down, even if it took all season.

We (my dad and I) used to go to our hunting club on the Saturday before the opener, and we would spend the night (most member didn't arrive until the next day), followed by a breakfast at a local diner. It was tradition. We would then spend the rest of the day, welcoming hunters, helping unload vehicles, do some final drive-throughs on the main property roads, etc, all followed by a big dinner. Evenings at the club found me listening to stories from years past (sometimes as far back as the 1950s). I lived vicariously through those stories trying to imagine what it was like in that very camp decades ago.

I never slept much the night before the opener, and I was always anxiously dressed and waiting for my dad to finish that last bit of coffee, and to give me the signal that it was time to head out. I remember the walks to the stands in the dark, and how every sound had the hair on my neck sticking up, all the while knowing nothing was really "there," but it still got to me nonetheless. I remember my first sit on a stand on the far NW corner of the 1200 acre property. From here you could see the lights of the few houses people called home in the rural region of the state. I watched headlights flick on, and roll away, most likely heading to work (unlucky for them I always thought).

I could go on an on with all of the experiences I had while growing up a hunter in PA not so long ago. Sure, I took several bucks and doe, and they were special to me, but that never was, nor have I let it become what hunting truly is about for me. Hunting is an experience that goes well beyond the kill. I created some amazing memories from hunting, but not necessarily all from KILLING.

Looking back at the wall of photos in our club, I've often found myself looking at the members standing there smiling, laughing, joking around, and wondering, "was it better hunting that made these hunters so happy, or was it something else?" Do numbers really make or break the experience? Would these same hunters if alive today be judgemental of one's weapon choice, or season length?

I'm not judging, because I have, at times, been guilty of what I'm talking about. I'm not proud of it, and I try to realize the bigger picture. Every season that I'm able to get into the woods, I feel grateful. I'm lucky enough to have the lands I do to hunt. They're far from the best, but that doesn't matter. To get what we get to do as hunters year in and year out is something we should all be thankful for, not necessarily taken for granted.

So what do you think? Are we losing sight as to the true meaning and experience of hunting?

As a side note:
Yes, I do hunt private land. No, I have not taken a buck in quite a few years. I'm still quite happy