As Karen and I chatted about the 1999 bowhunting season, I was struck with a profound realization that changed the course for the rest of my bowhunting career. On the opening day of the second shotgun season, I called in a 5-point buck using a doe in heat bleat. My arrow hammered the young whitetail at fifteen yards while it scanned the landscape looking for the needy female who had beckoned to it. The animal erupted in startled surprise and ran the last fifty yards of its life before crashing in a deep bed of fallen leaves. It was a large deer for its age. When dressed, Karen and I were unable to hang it from the garage rafters without the aid of a come-a-long. That deer was heavy!
Prior to that buck, Karen and I had been hunting in more areas that are under Quality Deer Management (QDM), areas where the primary objective is to let young bucks mature so that the hunter can harvest larger racks. I have always been a meat hunter. With all the promotion for QDM, however, I have been moving away from my traditional preference and waiting for trophy bucks. When I took this whitetail the middle of November, my initial response was to feel sheepish about harvesting such a young animal. The buck was an obvious violation of the QDM philosophy. And I, after all, was attempting to be a good role model for the sport of trophy bowhunting.
How did taking of this buck shape the rest of my bowhunting career? Well, several things happened. First, this turned out to be the very last chance I had to take a deer during the 1999 season. If I had passed on that animal, our freezer would have remained empty. The young buck, as prescribed, was our winter's supply of venison. The second factor made itself obvious as we sat down to consume our very first meal from the young whitetail. When the butchering was over, we netted a shade over 25 pounds of beautiful red, boneless venison steaks and trimmings, which were ground into extra lean burger. This supply immediately suffered a hit, however, from my mom and dad who were visiting from Florida.
One of the things they truly miss about living on the farm is the annual deer hunt and the culinary rewards that follow over the next year. "Soft touch" that I am, I begrudgingly gave a small cooler of our precious venison to my mother and father. (I hate to see them grovel!) The rest was bagged in Zip Lock freezer bags and labeled with the cut and date of harvest.
The earth moving realization I write of hit me as Karen and I shared that first meal of the '99 buck. It had been seasoned with special seasonings, cooked over real charcoal until browned on both sides and juicy pink in the middle.
As we sat there allowing the meat to melt in our mouths, the bright light of truth flashed in my mind. For Daniel James Hendricks, this is exactly what hunting is all about. The basket-rack buck is by far the finest meat animal in the forest. It is the size of a mature doe, but has the tenderness of the fattened yearling. As we slowly enjoyed each mouthful of this succulent treat, I came to terms with my hunting beliefs. I realized that from this day on, I would hunt for "quality of carcass", not "size of antlers". I came to final terms with the realization that "trophy eating" is far more important and enjoyable to me than "trophy racks".
Suddenly and magically, I was very much at ease with my personal fundamental principle. Next season and every season thereafter, I would fill my buck tag with the first, fat yearling buck I would see. I would, without apology or remorse, put it in my freezer, knowing that I had harvested exactly what I was hunting for. And as the following winters would pass, I would repeatedly honor the young bucks each and every time Karen and I (and any other that happened to be sharing our table) would partake of its flesh. For this bowhunter, that is the axiom of the hunt.
Article Source by: www.hunting.net
