I do not think of myself as a whitetail deer hunter. That has never been something I have proudly displayed to the world. In fact, up until this year I had only ever shot one deer, and it was a spike buck. I could give some fake answer as to why I am not a great deer hunter, but the reality is that I do not specialize in hunting deer because I find deer hunting, usually, to be mind-numbingly boring. I have spent many years stalking deer here in Michigan, and while it is very fun, it has never once paid off for me. What does pay off for most deer hunters is sitting in either a blind or a tree stand that has been placed in a location one has seen deer in, and waiting patiently until a deer comes meandering through. It is extremely boring and it doesn’t feel like hunting to me.
On a typical year I go out a handful of times, get pissed off that I haven’t seen anything, and I give up for the year, often going eagerly back to hunting small game and trapping. This year there was a change that came over me before the deer hunting season began, but also while I was sitting in my blind. I decided that this year I would not get angry with myself if I did not shoot a deer. I told myself that I needed to let any feelings of inadequacy go. These thoughts were then joined by an incredible calmness that came over me on my second day in the blind.
Michigan’s rifle season starts on the 15th of November every year, no matter what day it falls on, and lasts for 15 days. This year our rifle opener fell on a Sunday. I went out on the 14th for bow season, taking my crossbow with me. That day was my usual antsy-pantsy-hate-the-boredom-of-it-all feeling, but I was not upset that I did not shoot or see anything. In fact I expected it. The following day was the rifle opener, and I was joined on the hunting land by my brother Lucas and my stepdad Tom. The weather turned out to be absolutely wretched for a person looking to see deer moving. The wind was blowing constantly and very hard, and to top that off, it was raining. The land we hunt on is surrounded by other plots of land that people hunt deer on, and as such the rifle opener usually sounds a lot like World War Two. This year I believe I heard two or three shots for the entirety of the day.
Sitting in a deer blind for 5 hours is painful to the psyche of a person like myself. My typical routine is to stare at different spots over and over again, drink coffee, stare more, close my eyes, drink more coffee, stare more, then if I do not see anything I head out with pain in my back and neck from having sat still for so very long. This is the experience I have hunting whitetails. Of course one could bring a distraction to exorcise the boredom, in fact many nowadays scroll on their smart phones for hours on end. I do not own a smart phone, and I am so hung up on toughness in life that I would rather face boredom than sit on a screen and take away what I have come to call “sacred boredom”. I could rant for a very long time on how we are all starved of boredom.
I went out on the morning of the 16th with nothing special in mind, just a plan for not really seeing anything, as is my usual. I got out into my blind before sunrise, and sat there as still as possible. A couple of hours went by with not much action, then I saw a huge buck. I quickly and with extreme quiet lifted my crossbow( I didn’t have a rifle to use this year, so I used my crossbow) to rest on the window of my blind. The buck was on my right and walking in the direction of my left. It was going to be perfect, as soon as it emerged from behind a cluster of trees, but then it never emerged. Somehow these giant bucks seem to be the quietest creatures in the woods. Its escape was crappy, but I did not allow myself to get upset.
About a half an hour later my attention was drawn to an incoming doe. In Michigan this year, all hunters can legally shoot a doe during the rifle season, so I once again raised my crossbow into the opening of the blind preparing to shoot this doe. As a meat hunter, I am not usually interested in hunting just for the antlers. As my neighbor likes to say, “I have yet to find a good recipe for the antlers.” Meat is the reason I hunt to begin with, because without meat there would be no incentive to hunt. I had my crosshairs on the doe, all I was waiting for was her to shift positions so that I could make a good clean shot into her heart/lung region. Suddenly, moments before I pulled the trigger I spotted movement out of the corner of my right eye. It was the buck, and this time I got a really good look at him, and he was enormous. Especially for a Northern Michigan deer. Our deer are not renowned for their size.
My heartbeat began to rise and suddenly I knew that I was going to have the opportunity of a lifetime here. I shifted my crosshairs onto his would-be position. He was repeating what he had done a half an hour before, walking behind the clump of trees heading toward the doe. His head emerged from behind the clump of trees, and I knew that I would only have a brief opportunity to shoot a good shot once he walked beyond the cover of the trees. He hesitated, and were it not for his genetic urge to procreate, I believe he would have high-tailed it out of there in an instant. He was a mere 25–30 yards from my blind. Big bucks don’t get big by going near hunting blinds.
I took some very long quiet exhales to calm and center myself, then he took one single step toward the doe, exposing his vitals, and without a moment's hesitation I pulled the trigger. I knew it was a good hit the moment I heard the loud thump of my arrow finding its mark. He ran off and I had the most amazing cocktail of chemicals flowing through my body. I felt elated, and, truth be told, a sincere sense of the utmost happiness. I had no idea how many points the buck had on its head at this point, as I was intensely focused on the size of his enormous body. I let 25 minutes go by before I went down and started tracking him.
As an inexperienced deer hunter my thoughts were racing to the possibility that I had merely injured the deer and that he would be long gone. My fears were soon quieted once I found my crossbow bolt and saw that it was completely covered in blood and had apparently gone right through him. I tracked him, trickle of blood to trickle of blood, into the deep and tangled cedar swamp that so many deer call home in the colder months. I took my time scanning the landscape, living in this surreal moment. It was 2020 yes, but I was blood trailing the way thousands and thousands of my ancestors had done since the origin of our species. The time seemed to stand still as I made my way from sign to sign. a hoof print here, a broken branch with a smear of blood there. It could have been 5 minutes, but it felt like forever. I soon found the buck and breathed the most incredible sigh of relief that I had breathed in a long time.
No words can describe the emotions that ran through me at that point. I had not in fact merely wounded him, I had shot him perfectly through both lungs and he had only made it 100 yards from where he was shot, assuring me that he had a quick death. I was feeling gratitude like I had never felt it before. Unfortunately for me, this buck was a giant and he had died in the middle of a very tangled Cedar swamp approximately a quarter mile from the truck I was driving. I removed his guts in the best way possible and got to dragging him out. This was grueling labor, and made all the worse by the fact that I had to wear my thick hunter-orange jacket for fear of being shot to death by some overly excitable hunter that wasn’t paying enough attention. Unfortunately this is the grim reality of the world we hunt in, many shoot at things they have not properly identified yet, some even shoot at mere noises.
After successfully dragging the deer back to the truck I was able to get him into the bed by myself somehow, and I brought him back to where I was staying. I spent the rest of that day with a gigantic smile on my face and happiness warming my soul. I got him back to my place where I hung him to age for a few days. Then I got a call on Friday morning that changed everything: My brother-in-law had died in a car accident leaving my sister Katie and their four-month-old baby Ellie to go on without him. I was devastated, not only for the death of Alex, but also because my poor little sister had a tragedy occur that I cannot even begin to imagine.
Over the next few days and leading up to the funeral which we had to drive to in upstate New York, the subject of death was constantly on my mind. I was deeply saddened by my brother-in-law's death, and yet simultaneously overjoyed by the death of the buck that I had just killed. The fact that these two emotions can coexist is extremely interesting, and being the overthinker that I am, I spent days exploring this in my mind. It may sound bizarre, but I find that being a hunter, one that brings death to many animals per year, I have become more accepting of death, more able to cope with the loss of Alex. I do not know what comes after we take our final breath, but I am not convinced that everything just goes dark and that is that. I think that although I have no proof for this claim, something goes on.
Death is sacred, magical, and ultimately a giant mystery. All of us approach the subject differently. I have always felt it better to ponder my eventual death often and acknowledge that one day I will not be in this body. I only hope that I will be lucky enough to live a long and happy life that was truly worth living. If there is one thing that I have learned from the events of last month, it is that those of us that are in touch with death should strive to live a life that reflects our love of being alive. If we do not live a great life then we simply exist in a state I have come to call Alive-Dead. It is an enigma, but acknowledging death helps us to cherish our life and love it more. Perhaps that is why so many civilizations have had Day of the Dead-type celebrations.
Whatever your relationship with death might be, I ask that you do not ignore its eventuality. Your life may improve as a result.
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