A holiday mixed-bag hunt results in the proud harvest of a first deer and some much-needed inspiration

Back in December, when our lawmakers were ultimately unable to pass many critical provisions for sportsmen and wildlife that have seen bipartisan support in multiple congresses, I was disheartened about the future for hunting and fishing. As a government relations representative for the TRCP, I sit in many meetings with Congressional staff, advocating for policy that would improve sportsmen’s access, fund essential restoration projects, and support the outdoor industry economy. With lots of highs and lows in the final weeks of the year, I was relieved to get in the car and drive far away from the D.C. politics for the holidays and venture into the great outdoors.

It only took a few days in the woods of Tennessee and Missouri with a pretty special Christmas gift—a Ruger .243 from my in-laws—to rekindle my spirit for the work we do. I think you’ll see why.

First, we settled into “base camp”—a cabin my father-in-law built with his own two hands outside Only, Tenn.—and geared up to hunt chukars. These were pen-raised birds my father brought down from a hunting preserve in Indiana—it’s rare to find wild chukars and quail in the region due to the decline in ground cover habitat these birds need to survive.

I grew up hunting upland birds, and quickly settled into a rhythm with my English setter, Belle, as she followed the scent of chukars. We ended the hunt with six out of eight chukars that were ready to be plucked and eaten for our New Year’s Eve dinner.

Later that afternoon, I changed into my camo and quickly switched out my shotgun for my new rifle to sit in a deer stand until sunset. I sat only two crop fields away from where we’d spent the morning with the bird dogs, and though no deer appeared, it occurred to me how fortunate I was to have this special place all to myself.

The next morning, my husband, Hunter, his father, Paul, and my dad, Mike, drove about three hours to private land near Hornersville, Mo., where Paul shares the lease with 12 buddies to have access to excellent waterfowl hunting and keep costs down. It’s pretty typical for this region. The majority of cars on the road with us were from out of state and loaded down with trailers. Many local hotels were full of out-of-town cars, too. It was easy to see that duck hunting was the draw that kept these local businesses humming at this time of year.

Once we reached our destination, we walked to the middle of a flooded rice field in our waders and climbed into a dugout ditch. This was technically my first time in a duck blind. I’d only ever hid in the brush along the river before. After four hours, we didn’t get any ducks into shooting range, but we made plenty of jokes while we waited.

Back at the cabin, on the last day of 2016, I woke up early to make my way to a deer stand that Paul had picked out for me. It was raining and foggy, and I climbed up in the box stand a bit later than I’d planned, burrowing into my oversized clothes to keep warm. Growing frustrated with the lack of deer, I propped up my legs and leaned back to play Sudoku on my phone, allowing an hour to pass. I finally texted Paul to say that I’d head back to base camp within 15 minutes. At three minutes before eight o’clock, I sat up to gather my things and was surprised to see three does feeding on turnip greens in the field below. I slowly got into shooting position. One of the whitetails heard me and began trotting away, but I had my eye on another larger doe. I clicked the safety off, aimed for the heart, and BANG, the doe jumped, and then fell 10 yards away. The adrenaline set in and my hands were shaking uncontrollably to the point where I could barely text Paul to come help me field dress my very first deer.

It was the perfect end to my year—being at ease scanning for chukars, sitting in my first duck blind, and packing up 30 pounds of venison harvested from my first doe. These experiences reminded me how fortunate I am to have access to private lands where I can hunt three different critters in one weekend, and family alongside me to enjoy these traditions. Hunting over the holidays revitalized my passion for the issues we fight for here at TRCP and made a lot of the policies I read and think about much more personal to me.

As for the chukars we lost and the ducks we never saw, there’s always next season. Stories like mine need to be told to Congressional staff. I’m taking my refreshed state-of-mind into 2017 and the 115th Congress, where I plan to make sure our decision-makers understand the value of our days afield.

Here’s to another year of chasing critters, filling freezers, and spending days afield with the family, friends, and pups that we cherish

With the new year quickly approaching, it’s time to reflect. The past 12 months were a mixed bag on the conservation policy front—with some exciting wins and a fair share of disappointments—but our staff still managed to get out and enjoy our hunting and fishing heritage.

Here are some of the stories and memories from 2016 that make all of the hard work worth it.

Ed Arnett, senior scientist

This year marks the 14th hunting season for my chocolate Lab, Sage, pictured here with one of my other Labs, Roux, and a limit of Nebraska pheasants—taken on publicly accessible private lands through Nebraska’s Walk-in Hunting Program. These days, Sage can only go on what I call my “high-grade hunts”—short walks in really good-looking habitat that more often than not produces some birds. On this day, Sage put up a rooster from its bed and made about a 60-yard retrieve after I dropped the bird on the second shot.

Chris Macaluso, Center for Marine Fisheries director

Over Thanksgiving week, I had the chance to take my four-year-old son, Hank, and my dad, Joe, fishing over in the marshes and canals east of New Orleans. Hank had been asking me to take him to catch a redfish for months and we finally got the chance. We caught speckled trout all day and finally, at our last stop, I hooked this 25-pound red. Hank got to help me fight it and he jumped up and down when we landed the fish. He couldn’t get over the fact that we had just caught a fish almost as big as him. This instantly became my favorite fishing trip of all time.

Nick Dobric, Wyoming field representative

This year, I helped two of my buddies each get their first elk—a rewarding experience for all of us. Then, after an amazing archery season chasing bugling elk but never getting a shot, I was fortunate to find an elk on my first morning out with a rifle. The first evening after backpacking into some wild country, I glassed a herd dropping over a pass and into my drainage. At first light the following morning, I was up on the ridge where I expected them to be and started hearing some bugles. Then I watched a cow pop out of the trees, and a big six-by-six shortly followed. I never had a good shot so I was just about to go put a stalk on him when this smaller bull popped out and started grazing broadside, and well within my range. I couldn’t pass him up.

Ed Tamson, Florida field representative

Yes, Florida water quality and Everglades restoration are ongoing challenges. Yet in spite of these stressors, it’s still possible to catch some backcountry red fish and snook. It’s a great motivator!

Kevin Farron, Western field associate

With a cow elk and a few limits of blue grouse in the freezer, my first fall in Montana has been rewarding. But more often than not, my reward for a day spent hunting is nothing more than a tired puppy. On this single-digit December day, Leo and I tried our luck for pheasants, something we’ve never hunted, and we were skunked. With the near-endless miles of Montana public lands to hide in, we had to tip our hats to the birds for avoiding us that day. But we’ll be back.

Steve Kline, director of government relations

Earlier this month I had a successful end-of-year reunion, about four minutes from our staff retreat location this past summer, with Chris Macaluso (who works from Louisiana) and former TRCP’er Cyrus Baird.