Hey guys,
I face alot of opposition as to why I hunt. I mean I really dont care what others think, buteven a few people really close to meask.For some reason I find it hard to explain why...It is more than for meat.

Just wondering what you guys' take is on it.

Jim

I tell people that until they feel the rush of adrenalin they will never understand. I then offer to introduce them so they can experience the thrill. If they decline I politely ask them not to question my reasons until they have been there. if they accept...well,YAHOO! EDIT: I do also explain,or try to, what it is like to be in the woods as the woods come to life. And how that makes me come to life.

Theres a whole lot more to why I hunt than what I fit into this article, but I feel that this is the main part of why I hunt. Throw in the fact that it feeds my family and you've got pretty much both halves of the whole.

Many of you have read this before, but I feel it fits the bill. Enjoy;

As I set my bow down on the hanger above my head, I realized that I couldn't let go. Not because I had just caught a sudden movement at the treeline in front of me, not because I heard the tell-tale snap of a twig announcing the approach of an animal. No, I soon came to the realization that sometime in the last three hours my glove had frozen to the grip of my bow. Icicles formed on the bill of my hat as I struggled to remove my hand from the frozen prison that my glove had become. Once free, I lowered my bow to the icy ground below and made a shaky walk back to the truck to unthaw.

It is times like these that often cause me to question my sanity. What is it that draws me back to the woods every fall and keeps me perched high in the trees, motionless, silent, and unrelenting for hours on end? Maybe it's the anticipation of all the hard work I put in during the summer finally paying off with a nice trophy for my wall, meat for my freezer. Perhaps it's the rush of adrenaline that courses through my body and causes me to shake uncontrollably when I catch a glimpse of an antler screened by brush. No, I think that it is something deeper than that, something nearly beyond description.

I believe that it is the tradition that keeps me going back year after year, season after season. It's being a part of something that my ancestors have been doing for hundreds of years. It is the feeling that I'm walking some sort of predetermined path that was instilled in me when these ancients first picked up a bow and arrow and used them to feed their families. No, it isn't about the sport, or the killing, or the bloodshed. It isn't about bragging rights or being able to tell stories so amazing that they seem almost unbelievable. It's about taking part in something that is bigger, much bigger, than any one person, something that has been taking place for centuries.

Although the equipment and techniques may have evolved over the years, one thing remains the same; we're all a part of something sacred; the brotherhood of the bow. Though the leaves may change color every fall, I know that because of this connection with my past, my participation in this yearly ritual will never change along with them.



Dan Watts-Messick
April 21, 2006

I get asked this question quite a bit. Usually it is a non-hunter asking this question. It’s a legitimate question now days. I mean truly we don’t need the meat. My entire family eats the meat of course, but we don’t need it. I don’t hunt to control the population in hopes that there are fewer automobile accidents involving deer each year. Some proclaim this. This question is a hard one to answer, especially when you’re talking to someone who doesn't hunt. So here is why I hunt. I hope I can capture a tenth of the emotion that this truly involves.
I picked out the perfect spot. I mean perfect. There was deer sign everywhere. I mean everywhere. I placed my stand perfectly. I mean perfectly. It was up against a tree that had vines all over it that would provide a good break up of my pattern. The stand was sixteen feet off the ground and the limbs and twigs of the neighboring trees covered me until about fourteen feet. It was awesome.
The opening day of bow season, I was there. Well before daybreak I sat ready and waiting. Well, I ended up waiting all day and finally called it a day when it passed legal shooting hours that night. I hunted this stand everyday during bow season and never did see a deer. Not even off in a distance. But being me and me being stubborn, I refused to give it up. I went everyday that I could, knowing that one day it would pay off. I mean it was perfect, right?
It was the opening day of muzzle loading season and guess where I was. Yep, back in the “perfect” stand. I sat there well before the woods came alive as I had done countless days before. Around lunch time I had to leave to get something to eat. I met up with some of the locals and chatted a bit. Got picked on a bit since it was black powder season and I was still carrying my “stick thrower” in the truck. Explaining the passion of bow hunting is almost as hard as answering the question, “Why do you hunt?”
I headed back to my stand around 1:00 P. M. and settled in for the rest of the day. It was around 6:00 P. M. when my heart stopped. I heard in the distance that awful, sweet, soothing, heart stopping sound of a deer coming in. My heart pounded so hard I actually saw stars. I knew it was coming, but had no idea what ‘it” was at this point. Then I saw the worst thing I could have seen at that time. A nice rack. Yep, it was awful. My heart was pounding so hard you could actually see my shirt moving. I thought I might as well be at the house right now because there is no way I could draw back. He was about fifty yards away when I saw his buck fever sized antlers. Thank goodness because if he was any closer, I would surely scare him away from me shaking the stand. There were a few times I had to remind myself to breathe.
It seemed like a lifetime before he moved again. He raised his head and evidently got a scent of the doe in estrous I put out when I returned from lunch. He was headed my way whether I was ready or not. His head was coming right for me and that did nothing but make my condition worse. He stopped about thirty five yards away and sensed something he didn’t like. And like a dream, he was gone. Gone. Just disappeared.
I frantically reached in my pocket for my grunt tube. I sounded off ever so quietly. Poof, he re-appeared! He did NOT like that at all. Then, he left again. I sounded off one more time and BAM! There he was and this time he was going to defend his territory. He came in about twenty yards away and raised his head to smell out the intruder. When he did he turned broadside to me. When he turned his head in the opposite direction I drew back. He never even looked back toward me. So I took aim and let it fly.
Where did he go? He was gone. Which way did he go? What just happened? I frantically tried to remember what happened just five seconds ago and could not. My heart, my poor old heart, I thought it was going to explode. I found myself shaking so badly I had to set the bow down and hold on to the rails. Did I make a good shot? I mean I could not replay the shot in my mind to save my life. How long had it been since the shot? I had no idea. I knew it was getting dark. I half way remembered it was pretty light out when I let it go. I decided the best thing to do was go see if I could find my arrow, then back out and let it go for another hour just to be safe. I climbed down and could not remember where he was standing when the events unfolded. What? How stupid can you be? I had to climb back up into the stand, get my bearings, and then climb back down. OK, he was right around here, somewhere. I couldn’t find anything. It was time to call for help. I went to my truck and called my father in law. I told him I either missed a moose or killed a monster. He laughed and said he’d be up there in about an hour or so. An hour? Man I won’t last that long!
OK, get your thoughts together. I decided to go back and see if I could find a hair, a spot of blood, my arrow, or anything. I went back to where I was before and there not two feet to the right of where I was searching was (at that time) the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. My arrow covered in blood and a giant spot of blood! I did a little pre-victory dance and thought I’d just see how well the blood trail was. I was going to walk about twenty feet, and then go wait for my father in law, but the blood wouldn’t stop. It was the best trail ever. I just kept going and going. Then came the last test of my ticker for the night. There he lay. Probably not sixty yards from the sight of the shot.
It was the most awesome thing I had ever seen. I collapsed beside him and thanked God for this amazing gift. I trudged back up to the truck and waited for my father in law. He pulled up and said, “OK Bud, just calm down, we’ll do our best to find him.” I told him I already found him all we needed to do was go get him. We got him out of the woods and field dressed him. I brought him home for the pictures and all and showed him proudly to my family. The next day I had to go check the freezer to make sure it wasn’t all just a dream.
I said all that to say this. If you can’t understand the emotion of the story above, I can’t tell you why I hunt.

There are too many reasons to narrow down. I evolved from wanting to kill to enjoy thetime in the stand knowing at any moment the buck of a life time could walk in. If he doesn't come in well it was another great night in the outdoors.

People that don't hunt just don't get it.So I stopped explaining why I do it along time ago.My wife of nine years went gun hunting for the first time this year. She got so excited when the first deer walked in she couldn't get him in the scope.I think she might be hooked. She felt the rush but it is more than that.

farmcntry, GREAT STORY!!!! I was right there with you! I know why you hunt! NO DOUBT!

To tell you the truth, you all know why we hunt, the question is WHY NOT???

Good story.
I probably could say all the things you feel in the woods while hunting but you all know that special feeling we getas hunters.I hunt for the thrill and to have deer to eat, don't need it, just want it.I love it. My family loves it as well.

I think everyone pretty much covered the reasons why I hunt as well. And as added on to it. I grew up around it and enjoyed learning it and doing it. I don't really care if I get anything or not because hunting isn't about getting an kill. Its about being out there, enjoying nature and following the footsteps of past generations of not only our families but other people's well. When I do get something. All hunters, or at least most, respect what they hunt and thankful for game as well. If I get something, i'll keep some of the meat but most of it i donate to food charities.

nice story.


i hunt for the food, experience, father son time, beeing outside and also beeing one with the animals