Inheritance: More Than Antlers

It's been far too long since I've written something for me, & that has weighed on me. I created this blog to document the incredible moments I've been blessed to experience & the activities that I prioritize in my daily life. Being outside, whatever the pursuit, is where I feel my best.

Last summer, though, life shifted a bit. It brought a season of uncertainty I didn’t expect. I had to slow down more than I wanted to, and sitting on the sidelines didn’t go over so well with me. The outdoors has always been my reset button, and I wasn’t ready to give that up.

But, let's be honest for a second, I was born & raised in Michigan, I've devoted the last decade almost exclusively to archery season, & there was never a world where I wasn't going to be in a tree on October 1st (opening day of Michigan archery season).

So, I adjusted.

I gave myself extra time that morning. I climbed into the tree stand slower & more cautiously than usual, even in the stand I know better than any place on earth. I packed every possible what-if need in my bag. & I made it happen.

All I wanted was to sit in the woods without thinking about appointments, restrictions, or uncertainty. I wanted to watch bucks fight, does feed, & yearlings play. I didn't sit because I needed, or even necessarily wanted, to harvest a deer. I sat in that tree to feel normal.

THE SIT

I bumped two deer walking in at 6am, shooting light would have been just after 7am, & the woods was already awake.

A young, but pretty 8-point was walking through my food plot, & I decided to take a photo of him with the sunrise creeping in. But something about his body language made me pause. He was alert, completely focused on something in the corn.

That's when I saw the tines rising above the shorter corn stalks. An old farm buck stood just inside the edge rows, studying the deer in the plot. Heavy-bodied, mature, & a natural bully, he pushed the other deer out & stood confident, facing me straight on, in the middle of the plot. I waited oh-so-patiently for, realistically, maybe 30seconds. But it felt like forever.

If you've waited on a deer within range before, simply needing them to take one or two steps in the right direction for an ethical shot, you know how long seconds can stretch.

That day, luck was on my side. He finally made that step and the shot felt good. He ran back into the corn & I heard him crash. & so I waited.

I climbed down carefully & put my backpack at the corn where I saw him run in. Then I sat in the food plot, allowing my heart rate to settle, before making the phone calls.

First, my husband. Then my dad. Then my grandpa.

THE BIG PICTURE

I’ve hunted my grandpa’s farm nearly my entire life. I’ve sat in corners of his farm in different seasons of life: as a kid trying to sit still, as a teenager proving I could do it on my own, as an adult balancing work & responsibility. I’ve taken good deer there before. Several solid 8- or 9-points. Even a legendary 7-point.

But this buck came in a year when I wasn’t sure how much of “me” I’d get to keep.

When my dad & grandpa were there to help me recover, field dress, & start the processing of this buck, it hit me that this wasn’t just about one October morning. It was about decades.

It was about the men who first showed me how to move quietly through the woods. The ones who taught me to watch the wind, to wait for the right shot, to respect the animal. It was about the farm that has felt generations of footsteps before mine. It was about phone calls made in the same excitement, in this same spot, year after year.

Hunting is more than something that I do. It’s something that I come from.

Long before social media grip & grins, equipment debates, or technology arguments, hunting was about provision, stewardship, & time spent outdoors with the people who shaped you (including maybe just yourself). It was about stories told and lessons that you couldn’t possibly learn in a classroom.

We buy tags. We manage habitat. We invest in conservation through the licenses we purchase and the gear we use. We support agencies like the Michigan Department of Natural Resources & organizations such as Michigan United Conservation Clubs and the National Deer Association. But beyond the dollars, as incredibly important as they are, we pass something down.

Patience. Discipline. Respect. Resilience. Heritage. Stewardship. Tradition.

The list goes on & on.

This shoulder mount that is now hanging on the wall behind my desk represents more than the time in the woods that morning, more than the venison meatballs in my freezer, more than a mature free-ranging whitetail deer. He represents a farm & a tradition that shaped me. He represents a morning when three generations of hunters stood together & appreciated a deer that they all equally earned.

I look at this deer & I see:

• grandpa’s stories

• dad’s coaching

• & my perseverance

He’ll hang in our home for decades & if someone asks about him, I won’t just tell them about the hunt, I’ll tell them about where I come from.