Challenged to explain: Why I hunt

Being what you're raised to be is pretty much the easiest thing in the world - it's autopilot. Making a major life change, though, is something that makes you think a lot. Why, at the age of 41, should a journalist-turned-professor buy a shotgun, learn to shoot it and invest thousands of hours and dollars in a lifestyle that isn't strictly necessary for her survival?

It is a delicious question, because exploring it reawakens the still-fresh memories of every "first" I've experienced as a huntress. Read more...

And I think about it often, because part of what I do now is explain to non-hunters - or at least try to explain - why we do this. Why we are willing to kill animals when we could just buy meat at the grocery store?

Tonight, though, I answer this question in response to a fellow hunter. Arthur at Simply Outdoors issued a challenge to write about why we hunt, and then Kristine at Gun Safety Innovations rose to it, and man, they touched a nerve.

So here are my reasons:

1. Shouldn't I be doing this myself? When I was a kid, my family raised chickens, rabbits, pigs and even a few goats for eggs, milk and meat. I cried the first time I witnessed a slaughter, even though the rooster in question, Henry VIII, had attacked me in the chicken pen, leaving long, deep scratches down my 7-year-old back. But when Mom put chicken pot pie on the dinner table that night, I was hooked. I saw the connection between life, death and the food on my table, and I embraced it.

The last slaughter of my childhood was memorable. I was 17, it was Christmas Day, and my family was desperately poor. We slaughtered some chickens for dinner. My mother, to this day, bitterly remembers the unmistakable stench of dead chickens dipped in boiling water to facilitate plucking. She hated it, but for me it would be the last time for 24 years that I would take responsibility for the food on my table.

I always felt a bit of nagging guilt after that - I was a careless meat eater. Defrost, run out of time, meat goes bad, oh well - toss it. I had no connection to my food. When my boyfriend started hunting and invited me to join him, I knew it was the right thing to do.

2. Challenge. Wow, hunting is hard! I have always savored the invigorating feeling of a challenge, whether it was writing a story that 300,000 people might read as a young newspaper reporter, moving 3,000 miles across the country all by myself as a 31-year-old or diving headfirst into the incredible complexities of hunting. Shooting, shot size, training, licensing, regulations, packing, decoys, camo, calls, holy-cow-what-time-am-I-waking-up?, animal identification, animal behavior, scan the sky, don't move too much, uh ... how do I pee when I'm on a boat with five guys? ... watch the water, mount, aim, shoot, cripples, searches, death, plucking, skinning, dressing, cooking, eating, thinking, explaining...

Honestly, I think I would just curl up and die if I didn't have new challenges facing me all the time. Hunting is so complex that I know it will keep my hyperactive brain busy for decades to come.

3. Health. The more hunted meat I eat, the less hormones, antibiotics and farm-animal cruelty I ingest. Beyond that, I strongly believe that meat from animals that live normal lives is just healthier. I'm a big fan of Virginia pastured-chicken farmer Joel Salatin, and he wrote something in one of his books that really struck me:

If you have a cholesterol problem, your doctor will tell you to do several things: cut down on animal proteins (meat, eggs and dairy products), exercise in order to metabolize the excess calories of your body (isn't that a euphemistic way of saying "fat"?), eat salad for lunch instead of meat and potatoes. A good doctor will also tell you to identify and then reduce stress in your life. The stress-cholesterol connection is clear.

He then goes on to note that the way farm animals live now is precisely the way doctors are telling us not to live: high stress, no green food, no exercise. Salatin contends that the meat and fat of animals raised in this fashion is less healthy than that of animals that live more normal lives - just as the composition of our bodies is unhealthy when we live this way.

And if that isn't good enough reason to eat game meat, try this: Industrial meat just has no flavor. American livestock is corn-fed mush, and Americans have been brainwashed into thinking that monotonous flavor is a good thing. What most people call "gamey" is really a reflection of the animal and where it lived, whether it's a mallard that dined on acorns or a boar that roamed about eating wild oats and juniper berries all day. Eating game meats is like drinking wines and savoring the differences between each one. Once you've gotten used to it, everything else tastes like Wonder Bread.

4. Connection to nature. Here's what I said on Kristine's blog that made me realize I would not be going to bed tonight at the early hour I'd hoped for: Hunting wakes up part of you in a way that will make you think you've been asleep your whole life. That's the gift I never expected from hunting.

Do you ever watch comic-book superhero movies? You know the moment where they realize they have abilities and capacities they never dreamed of? Hunting is exactly like that. I see things now that I never used to see: When driving, I spot game that is invisible to my passengers. Where I used to see weed-covered fields, I see habitat. When I gaze out the window during meetings at work, I see not just birds, but mallards and cormorants and pelicans, identifiable as such even when they're just specks in the sky because their flight patterns have been etched into my brain. When I watch neighborhood cats lie in wait for newly hatched birds in my back yard, I see not cruelty or tragedy, but the cycle of life. When I see a hawk dive into a field and emerge with empty claws, I commiserate - and congratulate the mouse. When I see the hawk rise with a small rodent in his grip, I congratulate the hawk.

Life as we know it is ephemeral. Civilization is a house of cards that can collapse quickly in the wake of a well-placed virus or draught. I love the life that society and civilization offers me - music and art and books and fine food and drink. But I recognize this kind of life is a gift, and the only life guaranteed to us is one in which we can survive only by engaging with our environment, eating what we can and avoiding being eaten by anything bigger or stronger. Hunting connects me to that. It ensures I don't forget what I am - just one of many animals who make their home on this amazing planet.

No, I don't have to live this way. But I'm sure glad I know how.

Now, for the cruel part - tag! If I could pick one person whose answer to the question "Why do you hunt?" I really want to see, it would be Albert at The Rasch Outdoor Chronicles. Albert, I know you're slammed with some projects that are really important to you, but some day when life eases up a bit, I hope you'll do us the honor of telling us why you hunt.

© Holly A. Heyser 2010