Trophy is a Bastardized Term

Hearing the word "trophy" associated with "hunting" makes me cringe. Not because I'm against keeping non-consumable parts of an animal. As a conservationist, I advocate for utilizing as much of the animal as possible. I cringe because the anti-hunting movement has completely bastardized the term "trophy hunting," painting a picture of those who hunt as blood-thirsty mercenaries killing for their next taxidermy mount. This could not be a more fictitious representation of the hunting community. But why do hunter's feel the need to keep something like a skull and antlers, to hang for display?

This 2015 archery buck provided many trophy meals for family and friends. 

Archaeologists discovered fossil evidence suggesting humans hunted and ate meat as far back as 2.5 million years ago. It was at this point in time that humans began cooking and eating meat, leading to the increased brain and body size of modern man. If we use an average human life expectancy of 80 years, those fossil remains represent 25,000 lifetimes of genetic hunting experience. Considering planet earth formed over 4 billion years ago the length of time humans have walked the planet is a drop in the bucket, but for humans to have hunted that many lifetimes certainly explains why we hunt. But why do hunters keep and display non-consumable parts of the animals we hunt?

Hunting is part of being human, as is our desire to express emotions through song, dance, art and countless other ways. Art is mankind's attempt to communicate an experience, to express what is difficult to describe with words. No different than our ancestor's recreating the emotion of a hunt through petroglyphs and pictographs. Early petroglyphs date back to 700,000 BC while some of the earliest pictographs date back to 70,000 BC. To continue measuring in terms of human lifetimes, that represents 8,750 and 875 lifetimes of artwork expressing and communicating the hunting experience.

Pictographs from a back country canoe trip in the Boundary Waters.

Keeping possession of hides, antlers, feathers or creating artwork through taxidermy is a continued expression of the hunting experience. Beyond the nourishing meals provided by the animal, artifacts kept for display tell the story over and over, honoring both the life of the animal and the pursuit involved. This ancient practice is akin to hunting, just as acrylics or oils are akin to creating a painting.

Art is one of the oldest forms of  human expression and part of our documented hunting experience for thousands of lifetimes. The argument can be made that in our increasingly modernized society, the discipline of hunting is an art itself. After all, few people existing today have a connection with the natural world, and their food, like a hunter. Regardless of bastardized terminology, hunters shouldn't shy away from these discussions. Instead, we should create conversation and have an open, honest dialogue about hunting. We understand the true trophy is the complete hunting experience, we simply need to do a better job of expressing and communicating this with others. 

I'm thankful to have hunting pictures of my Grandpa, and the antlers from this Colorado mule deer.

Opening Night 9.30.17 ~ All the fun, none of the mess

My goals for hunting are simple: 1. Have fun. 2. Fill the freezer. With those expectations set I ventured out to bowhunt for the first sit of Ohio's season. The breeze was coming out of the north to the north east with temperatures in the mid 60's and dropping throughout the afternoon. I decided to hunt out of an oak tree situated on the edge of a freshly combined bean field and inside corner of two blocks of woods. The deer should show up as evening arrives to dine on either waste grain left by the combines, grass along the freshly cut waterways or acorns dropping from the canopy that are not yet squirreled away by the squirrels. It felt good to be back in my element.

The golden hour was fleeting when the first doe appeared like a mirage, standing sixty yards to the south feeding toward me in the open field. What began as one, suddenly turned into three deer casually dining their way northward. I was already on my feet, reaching for my bow as they inched closer to one of my open shooting lanes. 

The lead doe quickly saw or smelled something that made her uneasy. As she was quartering toward me, her head snapped alert, staring into the woods to my left. I was at full draw, waiting for her to turn. She blew, spun and trotted out of the left side shooting lane. A clean shot was now blocked by the leaf cover in front of my stand. I was still holding at full draw as she stepped back into my lane. The doe was now quartering away at a hard angle, nearly facing away from me. Moments later she and the other two trotted south, bounding back into the woods. I let down from full draw, wondering if they had winded me or if something else had their attention. 

In the waning minutes of legal light I could hear more deer approaching, this time from the woods behind me. Two does stepped out into the field, working just outside of range through the shooting lane to my right. At about 40 yards out the lead doe froze in her tracks, her attention focused to the south. Noticeably uneasy, she turned and trotted back into the woods with the younger doe, running just ten feet from my stand. 

With darkness signaling the end of opening night I thought, "Well, that's that I guess." Just as I hung my bow on the hanger I could see what had all the deer on edge. The silhouette of a coyote quickly slinked through my shooting window and into the woods, following the deer that had just done the same. I don't blame the coyote for messing up my hunt, after all the coyote and I were both after the same thing, a meal. It definitely felt good to be back in the woods.