Last Thursday was the opening day of Wisconsin's T-zone deer season, a special does-only hunt implemented by the Department of Natural Resources in parts of the state to cull the dangerously overpopulated deer herd.
This season was unique in several ways. It was the first year of hunting for Patrick Mielke, a UW-Madison sophomore and my roommate. Mielke grew up in the suburbs and does not come from a hunting family, but I offered to introduce him to it because I knew he would love it. Also, due to the Madison Halloween celebration, we planned on hunting for only one day, not really long enough to make a full freezer likely.
On the way \up north"" to my home in Rice Lake, Wis., we drove through intermittent rain, hoping for some decent weather the next day. The thought of my only October hunt being wet and cold made the drive seem even longer than the usual four hours. That was about when Pat realized he had forgotten his hunting license, after we were almost past Black River Falls. After a few panicked calls to my father Howard and a stop at a DNR field station, we were able to get a duplicate printed and didn't have to drive back to Madison.
We went to bed early Wednesday night in order to make the 6 a.m. wake-up call-the best hunters are always awake before the animals. As I fell asleep, the rain still drizzling outside, I wondered if I had wasted a lot of gas money.
The morning was wet, but it started as only a slight drizzle that barely required me to use my windshield wipers on the drive to our land. Our 80 acres, an old strawberry farm in the Township of Maple Plain, is my favorite place in the world. It is a mix of woods, field, marsh and swamp, and includes the entire shoreline of Canvasback Lake. Perfect for hunting of any kind, it is an outdoor paradise I think anyone could enjoy for its beauty and natural abundance.
We made it to the land about 10 minutes late, but the morning was coming later with the heavy clouds. I got Pat to his blind, and left with the hope that he would enjoy his first experience alone in the woods. I had not even seen a deer in my first two seasons, so I just hoped that he could stay dry and safe.
I got into my elevated tree stand for the first time of the year. It was great to feel my personal concerns of grades and national politics fade as the life of the forest came to dominate my world. I had sat exactly one hour when I heard a rifle shot. One shot that sounded close, I knew it had to be Pat. Quickly I went to help him. When I arrived I could see the look in his eyes, and I remembered the adrenaline and deep contemplation that comes with the intentional ending of life.
There was no blood visible, but I could sense Pat's worry that he had only wounded the animal, a possibility that always produces a sick feeling in my stomach. The fears were unfounded; within 30 yards we found it, a mature doe.
I took care of the field processing, making sure to show the basics. After we brought the deer to the truck, the rain started pouring down.
We butchered the doe that night. The entire process complete, only the feasts remained. Perhaps more important than the actual hunt was the effect. Kids in my generation simply do not hunt like my father's. Someday my uncle's and my dad's friends will die and I will remain, faced with the prospect of hunting alone and remaining a member of an ever smaller community. By gaining one more hunter, we have one more voice, maybe now I won't be forced to hunt alone in my old age.
Because no bucks are shot during T-Zones, these seasons are popular among hunters without a fixation on taking trophy animals. I have been hunting since I was 12 and I have never shot a trophy deer. This does not bother me in the least because I hunt to continue a family tradition. I genuinely enjoy getting out in the woods, but mostly because of the food. That may sound odd to some, but I have eaten in many American restaurants and I have traveled through Europe without finding a better meal than venison.
Seth is sophomore majoring in history. He can be reached for comment at sjbichler@wisc.edu.
