Hunting in July

The last hunt Tonti and I went on was in those exact wet conditions at a Becoming an Outdoorswoman event in the Adirondacks where we met. Although I don’t consider myself a morning person, waking up for a turkey hunt that morning was easy. The rain did not relent, so we didn’t see a bird, but it was not a loss. I left the woods seeing the world through an entirely different perspective. Not only was she able to spot tracks and scat that were invisible to me, but she also had an inspiring way of becoming one with the woods. She walked so carefully, vigilant of her surroundings with the ability to completely melt into the foliage.  

Tonti is passionate about mentoring adult-onset hunters (folks who begin their hunting journey in adulthood) who are eager to learn. She started hunting about 15 years ago, and, as an adult-onset hunter herself, she strives to create a safe space for people like me who want to learn but don’t know where to start. She offered to take me out in July for a deer hunt with nuisance permits on farmland in Cortland. 

So, there we sat, in our folding chairs behind a multi-flora rose bush, facing a field. I scanned the tree line 150 yards away, looking for a sign of movement.  

“There’s a deer,” Tonti said.  

I assured her there wasn’t. I put my rifle down to explain there were no deer in the tree line, but as I turned, I saw a young buck standing 50 yards away from us. Before I started to overthink the situation, I zeroed in on the task at hand and slowly repositioned myself.  

The buck was in my scope, my heart was racing and a thousand thoughts entered my head. I felt my heartbeat in every inch of my body. I concentrated on my breathing, and then I pulled the trigger.  

The deer started to run, and I felt defeated as I told Tonti I missed the shot. I began to reload my gun, while Tonti followed him with her binoculars.  

“I don’t think you missed; there’s a lot of blood,” she said. “He’s down! I’m so proud of you!”  

We waited a while before approaching the buck, but there was no movement. As we slowly approached, I felt myself shaking as I was hit with a wave of emotion. I was both proud and excited to celebrate my first successful harvest, but I was also mourning the loss of a life.  

I felt more connected to the natural environment than I ever had before. Earlier in the day, Lauren and I were wondering how people can eat meat but won’t support hunting.  

There’s a nonfiction story I read years ago, called Killing Wolves by Sherry Simpson that truly changed my perspective on hunting and trapping.  

“We want to believe a wolf has more intrinsic value than a chicken raised in an industrial coop,” Simpson writes. “A wolf means more because we’ve made it something more; we believe it lives the life we want to live.” 

Although I wasn’t hunting wolves in Alaska, the same principle occurred here: “Bambi” and the idea of leaving the wild untouched have crept into the minds of so many that see hunting and trapping as villainous. But, in my time at NWTF, the volunteers I have worked with and met have shown me what hunting is: connection, clarity and respect for the natural order. Hunting is time spent with family and friends, truly preserving heritage.  

So, here lies my buck. Tonti starts to field dress the deer before the sun fully sets. As I watch, it doesn’t seem so impossible to me anymore. Aversion therapy. We leave the gut pile for raptors, and Lauren makes sure to use lead-free ammunition to ensure the birds remain unharmed.  

We drive the rest of the deer to her house, where we’re able to process the buck in a few hours. I unsuccessfully tried my hand at using a zipper knife. I helped with skinning, and before I knew it, I had harvested meat to share with my friends and family.  

The success of this hunt wasn’t just celebrating the moment I pulled the trigger; it was recognizing all of the people who helped me get here. Without my friends graciously cooking me marinated venison steaks and grilled wild turkey breast, I wouldn’t have been inspired to harvest my own meat. Without the NWTF, I wouldn’t have felt capable or supported to pick up a firearm and try to hunt. I wouldn’t have had the education and resources without NWTF staff and volunteers. So, thank you to everyone who sent their congratulations. I’m excited to have stories to share and traditions to practice.