TRCP’s Aaron Field revisits a Minnesota deer season and the shared responsibility of responding to CWD

Last fall, Minnesota hunters entered deer season amid new realities – changing regulations, heightened awareness of chronic wasting disease, and a shared responsibility to protect the future of wild deer and the traditions built around them. In his first installment, Aaron Field explored what those changes meant at the outset of the season in Minnesota – a true season of firsts. In this second installment, he reflects how those realities played out in the field, where family, ethics, and stewardship intersect. What follows is a reminder that responding to CWD isn’t separate from the hunting experience – it’s increasingly part of it. 

“I want to wait for a big buck or an adult doe.” 

When my 11-year-old told me that before we walked out to the stand for our first hunt of Minnesota’s youth deer season, I did my best to hide my chuckle. When I was her age, any deer, button buck to wall-hanger, that walked by would’ve been in some serious danger, so I expected that conviction to fade pretty quickly. Especially given the temperature was well below freezing. So, a couple hours later when a pair of young deer walked right under us, I made sure she had the rifle up and ready. 

“They’re both button bucks. You should have a clean shot so get your scope on one if you want to.” 

She pulled up her rifle and took aim but didn’t take the safety off. I was surprised to hear her whisper: “I’m going to wait.” We watched the pair slowly work their way past us, giving her several layup opportunities that I was proud to see her pass up. 

That pride changed to apprehension when she said the same thing about a six-point buck the next day. I can appreciate restraint, and I’ve cultivated some small amount in myself with age, but I still wrestle with the idea that only 140+ class bucks are worthy. I was really hoping that watching hunting shows on TV hadn’t given her unrealistic expectations or an unhealthy obsession with big antlers. As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry. When that same buck chased a doe past us several days later, she had the gun up and was sure disappointed that he never hopped to the right side of the fence. 

“There’s a deer coming, Dad!” 

She spotted just about every deer before I did that first weekend. I can’t quite explain how, given her incredible ability to fall asleep immediately after getting settled in the stand.  

The lead doe must have been having an off day, because the amount of noise and motion we made getting ready really ought to have spooked her. Somehow it didn’t, and when the doe paused 15 yards out, close to broadside, my new deer hunter didn’t hesitate.  

I got my start with a 30-06, so I had my doubts about the little .300 Blackout she was using, but the shot-placement video we watched together (courtesy of our friends at the National Deer Association) paid off and the doe only went about 20 yards before piling up. The only downside, if you can call it that, of her shot placement was that she didn’t have any heart meat to bring home. 

We loaded the field-dressed doe into a wagon to pull out of the woods, with her doing most of the dragging. As we walked out, I reminded her that I had a work trip the next day, one for which I still had an awful lot of preparation to do, and that we should probably bring the deer to a processor. 

“I really want to do it myself, Dad, but if you’re too busy I understand.” 

Any father reading this can guess what we did next; I grabbed my knives, and we got to work. 

For the first time, our processing included an extra step: removing lymph node samples to send in for CWD testing (which my lovely and medically inclined wife did for me, confirming yet again my genius in tricking her into marrying me). Although not required during the youth season, I wanted deer managers to have as much information as possible as they implemented their response plan to a nearby CWD detection last season. It was far less complicated than I expected it to be, and I’m sure I could do it myself in a pinch. 

Other than pulling lymph node samples, the only other tweak I made to our processing was putting the tenderloins in the freezer until our test results came back, which took less than a week. It pained me a little to do that, as I would have liked to grill them the same day, but having them the night before the regular firearms season opened was almost as good, and knowing that CWD was “Not Detected” was reassuring, even though that’s what I expected. Moving forward, if prevalence in my area increases, meaning a deer is more likely to test positive, we will probably start wearing protective gloves during processing. But for now, I didn’t feel that it was necessary. 

It was interesting to me where CWD and the new regulations came up in conversations with local hunters in the leadup to the season. In the first, I had just helped some friends haul a load of cattle home from summer pasture. As we left the gate, a neighbor pulled up on her four-wheeler to ask about veterinary treatment for one of her own cows. After getting some advice from my friends (I’d be the wrong one to ask, believe me), she asked us “You guys heard about the new CWD rules, right?” I had, but hadn’t talked about it with my friends, so I was pleased to hear the neighbor give a pretty complete rundown of the new regulations, and a solid overview of CWD’s threat in general. I wish I would’ve asked where she got her information, because wherever it came from, it was sound. 

The next conversation came in a tractor during corn harvest, just a week or so before the rifle season. I was helping the same friends again when my replacement grain cart driver showed up and climbed into the “banker’s seat” next to me to ride along for a while. 

“So what’s the deal with this CWD stuff? I see all kinds of conflicting information on it and it’s hard to know what’s true.” 

Now this was a smart and thoughtful individual, and someone who has been hunting for a couple decades, so I was a little dismayed that even he was having a hard time sorting through the quagmire of mis- and disinformation that has been spread about this disease, but after 15 or 20 minutes of talking we were on the same page. He mentioned that food safety was his number one concern, and that he had no interest in risking eating meat from a CWD-infected animal. He also seemed concerned when we talked about what uncontrolled CWD spread could mean for overall herd health, deer numbers, and the likelihood of seeing big, old bucks. I left the conversation with renewed motivation to help other hunters find good information among all the bad, and to make sure that decisionmakers understand the importance of wild deer herds and wild deer hunting when they decide how to fund things like CWD research, management, and response. 

In many ways, this was a season of firsts – first hunts, first hard decisions, and the first time CWD factored directly into how my daughter and I handled a deer from field to freezer. It won’t be the last. As hunters continue to adapt to evolving wildlife challenges, seasons like this one remind us that stewardship isn’t abstract or theoretical. It happens in the stand, at the processing table, and in the choices we make to protect the future of wild deer and the traditions that depend on them. 

I wish I could end this story with a couple of big buck pictures; one for my daughter and one for me, but that’s not how the season went. We spent a lot of time in the stand, saw a fair number of deer, and I even broke out the snowshoes on a day with a –25 windchill for a two-man still hunt during muzzleloader season. That went about as well as you might expect, but it was a welcome break from sitting in a stand. For the first time in years, I never pulled the trigger myself. Strangely, despite that, thanks to my daughter’s success I’d call 2025 my best deer season ever, and I can’t wait for 2026.

Deer Season – Hunting and CWD.

This new TRCP series shares the personal deer hunting stories of three staff members while exploring the practices aimed at addressing the spread of chronic wasting disease. This season, we invite you to follow along and take part in preserving what we love most about deer hunting. 

As deer seasons open across the country, hunters are packing gear, checking maps, and preparing for the moments that define another fall outdoors. But today’s deer hunters face new challenges – chief among them, the spread of Chronic Wasting Disease (CWD), a 100-percent fatal neurodegenerative wildlife disease that affects members of the deer family. While more and more hunters are finding CWD in their backyards, it remains a source of confusion for many.  

From pre-season prep and regulation changes to lessons learned in the woods and around deer camp, Deer Season – Hunting and CWD will show how everyday hunters are part of the solution. Along the way, you’ll find tips, resources, and reflections that tie together our love of the hunt with our shared responsibility to keep deer herds healthy for future generations. 

Learn more about Chronic Wasting Disease here.