- Wild Game
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Hunting & Fishing Stories
How I get the game I cook.
I finally got myself a deer this season! A nice little buck. After nine hunts, I was due. And finally, the Fates took pity on me.
There’s a saying in fly fishing that catching a fish is the goal, but not the point of that particular obsession. Deer hunting in the West is the same thing. It’s been a tough season so far, but it ain’t over yet.
I’ve fished for tuna, off and on, my whole life. But the more you fish, the more you understand how different the fishing can be from place to place, even for the same species. This latest trip off the Mexican Coast was, well, a learning experience.
Trolling for fish – salmon or otherwise – is unlike almost every other type of angling. Trolling causes a cascading avalanche of emotions all ultimately flowing into caught fish, the promise of dinner, and a zenlike state… if you’re lucky.
Morel hunting the way I do it is a lonely affair. Miles walked in a beaten, burned landscape. A morel here, a morel there. It’s not the bonanza of a big burn, but I wouldn’t give it up for anything.
For the second time, I journeyed 300 miles south to hunt wild pigs. And for the second time, good karma lead to a good hunt. Crazy how that works out, eh?
Last month I hunted tundra swans in Utah, and we ate our bird for Christmas dinner. When I tell people I have hunted and eaten swan I get reactions sunning the gamut from excited interest to full-on horror. Few animals carry the cultural baggage that swans do, and even I am not immune to these mixed feelings.
Geese are not ducks, nor is goose hunting like duck hunting. Geese are far tougher to fool, far tougher to kill. But when it all works, there is nothing else that thrills me more. I had such a hunt last week.