The average extremist left wing anti gun nut ignorant of hunting and wildlife conservation has no idea the lengthy process and amount of time that goes into the successful harvest. I began hunting with my father and brother and grandfather at 10 years of age. I only shot prairie chicken and ducks before my 20’s but in my thirties I began hunting big game. Like the vast majority of hunters I’m what is called a ‘meat’ hunter. Trophy hunters , who the ‘fat cat’ ignorant radical propaganda CBC media journalist like to comment on are as rare as honest journalists. But even they are contributing massively with their support of guides and local businesses. They are not wasteful like the present crop of protected politicians . (I really have to do some more forgiving prayer and mediation)
I have always enjoyed partridge and grouse hunting. These tasty little birds are about half to 3/4’s the size of regular chicken and have the tastiest nutty flavoured meat. Many of the moose and deer and bear I’ve shot have been while I was hunting grouse. I carry two rifles one for the grouse, usually a Ruger 22 LR and one for the big game , my Ruger 30:06 bolt actin stainless steel rifle. Now I”ve a single shot over under Chiappa 20 guage and 22 LR folding rifle I can carry in a back pack
I slipped on Arthor’s Seat in Edinburgh in the rain with resulting back pain sciatica and unsteadiness. Thanks to Dr. Horvath recommending th Dr. Goodman’s Foundation Training, Tai Chi and Dr. Reddy’s chiropractic sessions, and any hot spring I can indulge, I’ve regained the ability to walk on uneven ground. Last year I hunted in the dry but stopped when it rained figuring at my age a little bird wasn’t worth a broken hip. This year I was relatively restored and thankful to be able to hike up the mountain trails. For the first time in five years I felt I could get a deer out of the woods if I shot one.
Laura was along with her powerful prayer capacity. Thanksgiving is so often blessed partly because that’s when the weather turns cold and the bucks go nuts in rut. Typical dangerous and stupid male behaviour chasing girls and throwing caution to the wind. Laura holds the fort at camp exercising her prayers she learned from nuns as girl.
It’s been 5 years since I shot my last deer. I’ve had many opportunity to shoot bear but passed on it because I’ve not liked as much as other game. . The three bear I’ve shot in the past I gave most of the meat to my friend Vivian who would prefer I gave her more moose but been grateful for the bear . I was on the board of the Anglican Urban Indigenous Society and she’d prepare this feats as part of her mission.
My friends Kevin and Anna shoot bear along with their hunting children. They have just about convinced me that it’s all in the preparatio. I’m thinking I might consider a spring bear but really I’m just a grouse hunter and thankful most for birds and venison.
To hunt I had to take a major hunter licensing course learning the laws and the recognition of game. I also needed to obtain a basic rifle license even though I had won marksmanship awards as a teen. I had a restricted license in the past for pistol target shooting but i had to have a permit each week to transport my Luger 22 pistol to the range. Rather than deal with the hassle and stress as much fun as pistol target practice, an Olympic sport , I let that license lapse but maintained my basic rifle license. Stupid Canadians don’t realize that registered trained hunters are not the ones who are a danger but rather untrained criminals. My parents taught me , the Scottish Irish Canadian rule, that I had to eat what I shot. I’ve always thoughts criminals would taste as bad as their black hearts.
I’d come across the two deer an hour or so before dusk as they’d ran across the logging road and down into the valley. I had trouble with my Vortex 8/50 binoculars but had just this year bought a new scope from Scott at International Shooting Supplies. Normally I have the scope at 3x but turned up the power to 9 and eureka I finally confirmed the one deer was a buck with antlers. I’ve got cataracts and macular degeneration so that was an effort at a couple of hundred yards. It was buck season so I couldn’t just shoot any deer. There are always does about but bucks are rare
. Fortunately for me I made the sighting using my Journey Jeep Wrangler hood for a rest. I squeezed off the shot at the heart as the deer was turning to escape d and the bullet hit forward of where I was aiming. Thanks to Bill Mewhort, my Campbell River Hunting Buddy’s advice I use Federal Nozzler Partition 180 grain bullet. The buck dropped dead. With the deer down and Madigan my cockapoo following me I made the distance down into the valley as quickly as I could glad I didn’t fall or twist an ankle or break a hip. It’s been decades since I carried a deer out on my shoulders. The last deer I shot required me to use a winch to get it back to the truck.
This deer was dead but I still shot a final head shot before cutting the throat of the three point mule buck. I cut my tags. Feeling grateful, blessed, ecstatic and shaking a bit with adrenaline I remembered the movie Highlander then took a deep breath and I began the important task of field dressing. It’s critical to get the guts out without spilling the digestive juices on the meat. Getting the bladder out without spilling is another skill. I really liked retrieving the heart and liver and having the ziplock bag along for them.
These first moments are all solemn and miraculous and I pray thanks for the deer and the Creator.
Field dressing the deer and trying to drag it out just about killed me. Since I stopped sailing off shore and being injured and taking up the Covid couch potato stance and aging I’ve become weaker and older and really tire more easily. Unable to drag the deer further I quartered it. I dragged the head and a quarter out. Thankfully Kamal this amazing mountain man stopped and offered to help. He picked up the last 2 quarters like they were a couple of grocery bags and strided back. . He was an angel. Definitely a miracle.
I’d bought a body bag on Amazon and put the quarters in that so they wouldn’t bleed in my jeep. I was in Princeton and then next day drove in to see my friend Victor to go with me to a butcher. Victor kindly helped me skin the quarters but unfortunately the usual butchers we’d used were booked fully for weeks. Other hunters obviously had had successful hunts. Thankfully Valley Sausage Butchers could accommodate me. In the past I liked steaks and chops and roasts but I told them I really wanted sausage and ground and just a few steaks.
When the venison was ready I wasn’t able to get out to Chilliwack till the weekend but Victor was able to pick the game up and keep it in his freezer. This weekend I drove out and after having brunch with Victor I loaded a couple of boxes of meat into the back of the Jeep. Victor at last took a couple of sausages. Then I was on my way.
I drove home and turned on the barbecue. Laura was there with Madigan who’d enjoyed some of the liver I’d had the day I shot the deer. He’d watched out for bear while I field dressed. I didn’t finished till it was dark, 2-3 hours after I shot it. . Now Madigan couldn’t have the garlic sausage since garlic isn’t good for dogs. It was good for me, thought. Delicious , spicy just incredible. Thank you Chilliwack Valley Sausage butcher.
Now I’ve a fridge freezer and little fridge full of meat, the venison and the dozen grouse I’d shot and cleaned. It’s a lot of meat. A hundred pounds. The Mule Deer is about 200 and you tend to get about a half of what the gross weight of an animal is when you get it back from the butcher. Moose and elk weight one to two thousand pounds. It’s always taken a year and a half to two to finish moose. Deer I’ve generally made my way through by last spring when I used to begin catching salmon for the summer.
I really have been blessed but it’s thanks to my parents and family and friends and the Canadian conservation service that manages the game. When we’re hunting the ranchers are rounding up their cattle and I think of us hunters doing the wilderness round up , culling the herd but leaving enough to ensure more next year. I really appreciate environmentalism ( not the political climate change industry) but forestry and game management There’s a real stewardship that Canadians brought to hunting. Natives just used all they could because of scarcity but today game is managed with sophisticated counts and tags and numbers and thankfully laws against poachers and law breakers.
We’ve had our share of these and I think the law should be even thougher for criminals intentionally caught breaking the laws, sometimes for commercial gain. It’s like the criminals with gun. They are treated lightly while the registered hunters like myself are commonly harrrassed. Too many law enforcement are city types or not even Canadian born and raised so they carry all the CBC style predjucines about the country folk and hunting and guns. Thankfully Western Premiers have generally been able to limit the ideological scapegoating typical of the vote seeking Liberal Ottawa’s politicians. These elitists surround themselves with guards and eat game shot by others as they try to restrict hunting to the elite and international friends. I’m thankful I’m still able to hunt as my dad and grandfather did. Now I am feeling increadibly blessed to have a fridge full of venison.
I love the sausage. A couple of barbecued sausages makes a meal with a baked potato and peas. I also like to make venison stews in a my crock pot and then freeze the extra in Tupperware for a quick microwave meal on a work night. Life is good. God is good.
Thank you Jesus!!!!
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