shoots-straight
Well-known member
An bow hunter friend of mine, wrote this timely piece. I hope you enjoy it and can take something away from it.
It's a long read but well worth it.
By Gene Wensel
Since I became an official senior citizen, I’ve been accused several times of teetering somewhere between senility and wisdom. Someone now has to push almost seventy candles into my annual cake.
I remember when camo was only available in military issue or red and black checkered shirts; when deer camps all smelled like Hoppe’s #9; when four wheel drive vehicles were all Jeeps; when the color blaze orange had not yet been invented. There were no ATVs…..no snowmobiles. Snowshoes and treestands were all made out of wood. Luggage and bows did not have wheels. Boys built slingshots. Kids caught night crawlers and sold them with the help of a sign in the front yard. We played “Cowboys and Injuns,” constructed “forts,” both underground and up in trees. We had BB guns, shot tweety birds stone dead without eating them, did daily chores unpaid and rode bikes without helmets. We carried “milk money” to school every day. Boys fought without knives, and in our hearts we knew that all girls had “cooties.”
When I was still a teenager, I visited the Orvis rod plant in Manchester, Vermont. From a rack in the front of their factory store, I lovingly fondled a featherweight split bamboo cane fly rod. It was only 5 feet long (much shorter than most fly rods) and was made for a 5 weight line…. perfect for many of Vermont’s small trout streams. It wore an all cork handle and a reel seat of simple split rings. If I remember right, it weighed a mere 1 7/8 oz. It was a supreme example of artistic elegance and pure class. I wanted it very much, but the price tag on it said exactly $100, way more than I had to my name. Today that same rod sells for well over $2000.
Prices have changed. Times have changed. People have changed. Society has changed. We are now several generations removed from the farm but still need to grow things. Half a century ago, the term “politically correct’ was nonexistent. “Boy scout” has taken on a whole new meaning, if you get my drift. Today’s youngsters spend all their free time in front of television sets, computers or at malls instead of out in the woods. Kids feel naked without their very own cell phone within reach. People previously known as “whippersnappers” now play violent video games or watch television when not texting or talking on their phones. Teens quit doing chores for under $50 an hour. They also carry charge cards. They don’t walk anywhere they can ride. No more roving lawn mower or snow shoveling jobs are solicited. Boys wear earrings and necklaces. Girls get boy’snames tattooed onto various body parts. Our “Commander in Chief” thinks he’s an emperor but looks and acts more like Steve Urkel than John Wayne or General George Patton. You get the picture…..
Our wind figuratively changed when hunting became an industry. In my opinion, it all started when television stole much of our free time. Interest in the “Big Three” hunting magazines soon waned. Television was King! So was Elvis. We had to endure live action bowling. Ed Sullivan offered us not only Elvis and the Beatles, but special talent acts like a guy spinning dinner plates on under-spined arrow shafts. We had Howdy Doody and a talking horse named Mr. Ed. I even watched Lassie right up until the episode where the kid got his foot caught in a huge bear trap, then sent his loyal dog rushing back to the barn with instructions to bring back a C-clamp. A dog smart enough to fetch a C-clamp? Gimme a break.
Television went through understandable growing pains. Then about twenty years ago, actual hunting shows were born, finding an uncomfortable niche right alongside Star Wars, horror films, I Love Lucy re-runs, fifty new sit-coms and soft porn. Never again did we have to watch Ozzie Nelson walk around his own home wearing a suit and tie when he had no apparent job. Mr. Ed went to the glue factory. Howdy Doody came down with mildew or dry rot, I’m not sure which, but the painted freckles fell off his face.
Today we’re offered full season, weekly TV episodes about people who catch turtles for a living, “exterminators” who don’t kill much except insects, gator hunters who seemingly talk with marbles in their mouths to the point TV producers have to subtitle whatever they say as if they’re speaking in a foreign language. The hunt for Bigfoot continues. One of these days sasquatch hunters might consider leaving a bunch of trail cameras out for more than a few days at a time. On the TV menu are weekly shows about driving trucks on icy roads, logging, towing vehicles, raising little girls with double chins, the trials and tribulations of “Little People,” the fine art of junk picking and hoarding at it’s worst. Five year old girls are painted up for beauty contests. We’re even treated to one about the perils of being a meter maid. Drama choices are endless! Had enough? Apparently not yet.
With hunting shows, celebrities seemingly came out of nowhere, all jockeying not for entertainment or educational value, but for pole positions of name recognition among their peers, potential sponsors and new followers. Our attention and interest were tested with lots of whispering, poorly hidden commercials, bad acting by people trying to be funny, and shameless, even embarrassing, high five whooping and hollering rants. It didn’t take long to realize far too many celebrity hosts and guest hunters have a very hard time differentiating love from lust.
Television hunting shows made hunting look easy, programming youngsters to expect success without ever really earning it and getting quickly frustrated when “it” didn’t happen soon enough. Commercialized gadgets were invented and promoted to eliminate much of the process. Hunters became “athletes.” Hunting became a “team sport.” People right out of puberty decided to go “Pro,” with deadly intentions but foggy direction, skipping any degree of apprenticeship or woodsmanship skills along the way. I continue to see six year old kids posing their best “bad ass” faces for hero photos. Kids young enough to wear pajamas with the feet attached are regularly seen posing behind trophy bucks. Youngsters who still get a lollipop whenever they sleep dry are shooting big game. Deer are now “whacked,” “popped,” or “smoked” from long ranges. Arrows became “meat missiles,” while bullets became “pills.” Just this morning I saw a photo of a bowhunter posing with his dead critter. On the horizontal rib cage of his prize sat an open can of beer. The words “awesome” and “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” have risen to far more than standard verbiage.
With the “help” of television celebrities, who often seem to think of themselves as somehow very special, hunting slowly but surely lost it’s romance. Our “music” increased in tempo but lost it’s rhythm. Many hunters don’t even get into the woods anymore. There is no story attached to 90% of the deer killed on television these days. “Just put me in a good spot” is all they expect. Traditional deer camps were sold…. or only used for poker, booze, smoking, or to test drive new girlfriends.
Hunting became shooting. “Bows” that look more like James Bond tools came to be known as “weapons.” Instead of trying to get as close as possible to big game, the challenge evolved to how far away one could “whack” a deer with either bows or guns….it didn’t really matter. Just last night I watched a celebrity bowhunter “whack” his “biggest buck ever” (home grown to boot) from 56 yards. That buck deserved better.
Primitive black powder firearms grew into nothing more than single shot rifles without the brass, using pellets rather than powder, big scopes, thumbhole stocks, bipods, etc. I even saw a muzzleloader dude carrying two of them in case he needed a second shot! I made a mental note to myself: “There could be a market out there for double barreled muzzleloaders....maybe even repeaters.”
Pre and extended primitive “weapons” big game seasons, those fought hard for and established by none other than our bowhunting pioneers, were quickly infiltrated by hundreds of thousands of opportunists simply looking for an easier way to fill their entitled “extra” tags.
“Hunting” shows often display sniper talent. Now, before someone takes a bead on me, I want to admit I’ve always admired and respected long range shooting skills of snipers. I’ve bought and read stuff by and about guys like Carlos Hathcock, Chris Kyle, Simo Hayha, etc. But, when hunting is confused with long range shooting, one can’t help but realize sniper talent often emerges as little more than superb target shooting at live targets. Again, no disrespect to long range sniper skills, but in my opinion, anything over 400 yards is a whole lot more about shooting than hunting. The only real hunting part is spotting the animal from afar and stalking or crawling into position to set up for the shot. I might also mention here that I am an NRA “Lifer,” and by no means an anti-gun person whatsoever.
Back in the “Golden Age” of deer hunting, many if not most deer were killed with open sighted .30-30s. I once commented to my dad that a seemingly higher percentage of big bucks were taken in “the good old days,” even though total deer numbers were not nearly as high in that era. Dad pointed out the biggest reason was possibly because most hunters used open sights. Few carried, nor could afford, binoculars or scopes. Since shooting doe deer was not cool in those days, spikes and forkhorns with small antlers were not easily identified as bucks from long range, and so were not shot at. Huh….
Continued........................................
It's a long read but well worth it.
When Hunting Became Shooting
By Gene Wensel
Since I became an official senior citizen, I’ve been accused several times of teetering somewhere between senility and wisdom. Someone now has to push almost seventy candles into my annual cake.
I remember when camo was only available in military issue or red and black checkered shirts; when deer camps all smelled like Hoppe’s #9; when four wheel drive vehicles were all Jeeps; when the color blaze orange had not yet been invented. There were no ATVs…..no snowmobiles. Snowshoes and treestands were all made out of wood. Luggage and bows did not have wheels. Boys built slingshots. Kids caught night crawlers and sold them with the help of a sign in the front yard. We played “Cowboys and Injuns,” constructed “forts,” both underground and up in trees. We had BB guns, shot tweety birds stone dead without eating them, did daily chores unpaid and rode bikes without helmets. We carried “milk money” to school every day. Boys fought without knives, and in our hearts we knew that all girls had “cooties.”
When I was still a teenager, I visited the Orvis rod plant in Manchester, Vermont. From a rack in the front of their factory store, I lovingly fondled a featherweight split bamboo cane fly rod. It was only 5 feet long (much shorter than most fly rods) and was made for a 5 weight line…. perfect for many of Vermont’s small trout streams. It wore an all cork handle and a reel seat of simple split rings. If I remember right, it weighed a mere 1 7/8 oz. It was a supreme example of artistic elegance and pure class. I wanted it very much, but the price tag on it said exactly $100, way more than I had to my name. Today that same rod sells for well over $2000.
Prices have changed. Times have changed. People have changed. Society has changed. We are now several generations removed from the farm but still need to grow things. Half a century ago, the term “politically correct’ was nonexistent. “Boy scout” has taken on a whole new meaning, if you get my drift. Today’s youngsters spend all their free time in front of television sets, computers or at malls instead of out in the woods. Kids feel naked without their very own cell phone within reach. People previously known as “whippersnappers” now play violent video games or watch television when not texting or talking on their phones. Teens quit doing chores for under $50 an hour. They also carry charge cards. They don’t walk anywhere they can ride. No more roving lawn mower or snow shoveling jobs are solicited. Boys wear earrings and necklaces. Girls get boy’snames tattooed onto various body parts. Our “Commander in Chief” thinks he’s an emperor but looks and acts more like Steve Urkel than John Wayne or General George Patton. You get the picture…..
Our wind figuratively changed when hunting became an industry. In my opinion, it all started when television stole much of our free time. Interest in the “Big Three” hunting magazines soon waned. Television was King! So was Elvis. We had to endure live action bowling. Ed Sullivan offered us not only Elvis and the Beatles, but special talent acts like a guy spinning dinner plates on under-spined arrow shafts. We had Howdy Doody and a talking horse named Mr. Ed. I even watched Lassie right up until the episode where the kid got his foot caught in a huge bear trap, then sent his loyal dog rushing back to the barn with instructions to bring back a C-clamp. A dog smart enough to fetch a C-clamp? Gimme a break.
Television went through understandable growing pains. Then about twenty years ago, actual hunting shows were born, finding an uncomfortable niche right alongside Star Wars, horror films, I Love Lucy re-runs, fifty new sit-coms and soft porn. Never again did we have to watch Ozzie Nelson walk around his own home wearing a suit and tie when he had no apparent job. Mr. Ed went to the glue factory. Howdy Doody came down with mildew or dry rot, I’m not sure which, but the painted freckles fell off his face.
Today we’re offered full season, weekly TV episodes about people who catch turtles for a living, “exterminators” who don’t kill much except insects, gator hunters who seemingly talk with marbles in their mouths to the point TV producers have to subtitle whatever they say as if they’re speaking in a foreign language. The hunt for Bigfoot continues. One of these days sasquatch hunters might consider leaving a bunch of trail cameras out for more than a few days at a time. On the TV menu are weekly shows about driving trucks on icy roads, logging, towing vehicles, raising little girls with double chins, the trials and tribulations of “Little People,” the fine art of junk picking and hoarding at it’s worst. Five year old girls are painted up for beauty contests. We’re even treated to one about the perils of being a meter maid. Drama choices are endless! Had enough? Apparently not yet.
With hunting shows, celebrities seemingly came out of nowhere, all jockeying not for entertainment or educational value, but for pole positions of name recognition among their peers, potential sponsors and new followers. Our attention and interest were tested with lots of whispering, poorly hidden commercials, bad acting by people trying to be funny, and shameless, even embarrassing, high five whooping and hollering rants. It didn’t take long to realize far too many celebrity hosts and guest hunters have a very hard time differentiating love from lust.
Television hunting shows made hunting look easy, programming youngsters to expect success without ever really earning it and getting quickly frustrated when “it” didn’t happen soon enough. Commercialized gadgets were invented and promoted to eliminate much of the process. Hunters became “athletes.” Hunting became a “team sport.” People right out of puberty decided to go “Pro,” with deadly intentions but foggy direction, skipping any degree of apprenticeship or woodsmanship skills along the way. I continue to see six year old kids posing their best “bad ass” faces for hero photos. Kids young enough to wear pajamas with the feet attached are regularly seen posing behind trophy bucks. Youngsters who still get a lollipop whenever they sleep dry are shooting big game. Deer are now “whacked,” “popped,” or “smoked” from long ranges. Arrows became “meat missiles,” while bullets became “pills.” Just this morning I saw a photo of a bowhunter posing with his dead critter. On the horizontal rib cage of his prize sat an open can of beer. The words “awesome” and “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” have risen to far more than standard verbiage.
With the “help” of television celebrities, who often seem to think of themselves as somehow very special, hunting slowly but surely lost it’s romance. Our “music” increased in tempo but lost it’s rhythm. Many hunters don’t even get into the woods anymore. There is no story attached to 90% of the deer killed on television these days. “Just put me in a good spot” is all they expect. Traditional deer camps were sold…. or only used for poker, booze, smoking, or to test drive new girlfriends.
Hunting became shooting. “Bows” that look more like James Bond tools came to be known as “weapons.” Instead of trying to get as close as possible to big game, the challenge evolved to how far away one could “whack” a deer with either bows or guns….it didn’t really matter. Just last night I watched a celebrity bowhunter “whack” his “biggest buck ever” (home grown to boot) from 56 yards. That buck deserved better.
Primitive black powder firearms grew into nothing more than single shot rifles without the brass, using pellets rather than powder, big scopes, thumbhole stocks, bipods, etc. I even saw a muzzleloader dude carrying two of them in case he needed a second shot! I made a mental note to myself: “There could be a market out there for double barreled muzzleloaders....maybe even repeaters.”
Pre and extended primitive “weapons” big game seasons, those fought hard for and established by none other than our bowhunting pioneers, were quickly infiltrated by hundreds of thousands of opportunists simply looking for an easier way to fill their entitled “extra” tags.
“Hunting” shows often display sniper talent. Now, before someone takes a bead on me, I want to admit I’ve always admired and respected long range shooting skills of snipers. I’ve bought and read stuff by and about guys like Carlos Hathcock, Chris Kyle, Simo Hayha, etc. But, when hunting is confused with long range shooting, one can’t help but realize sniper talent often emerges as little more than superb target shooting at live targets. Again, no disrespect to long range sniper skills, but in my opinion, anything over 400 yards is a whole lot more about shooting than hunting. The only real hunting part is spotting the animal from afar and stalking or crawling into position to set up for the shot. I might also mention here that I am an NRA “Lifer,” and by no means an anti-gun person whatsoever.
Back in the “Golden Age” of deer hunting, many if not most deer were killed with open sighted .30-30s. I once commented to my dad that a seemingly higher percentage of big bucks were taken in “the good old days,” even though total deer numbers were not nearly as high in that era. Dad pointed out the biggest reason was possibly because most hunters used open sights. Few carried, nor could afford, binoculars or scopes. Since shooting doe deer was not cool in those days, spikes and forkhorns with small antlers were not easily identified as bucks from long range, and so were not shot at. Huh….
Continued........................................
