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 Mentored Hunt Experience On a chilly weekend in November I set out into the woods for my first ever deer hunt with a mixture of every emotion; from nervous fear, overwhelming anxiety and finally the proud sense of accomplishment. I grew up in a family of non-hunters and had a hard time understanding why people headed into the woods every year during hunting season. I would hear about spending time in the woods and the thrill of the hunt. Most of us have seen the souvenir photos of the successful hunter kneeling on the ground holding up the head of the deceased critter before them, the gun lying across its belly. For most of my life I could not understand why people would want to do such a thing. It was not until I was posting information for the Mentored Outdoor Experience (MOE) workshop on the Iowa Department of Natural Resources’ website that I felt the smallest spark of interest in finding out what hunting was all about. I learned the workshop was for anyone who wanted a chance to experience a hunt and I became more intrigued. After an hour of hearing workshop coordinator A.Jay Winter tell stories of first-time hunts and the excitement that came along with the experience, I signed up that very day for the MOE workshop and for the next available Hunter Education course. After taking Hunter Education courses and classes during the MOE weekend I now have a better understanding on what really happens in the woods and the service hunters give back to the land as a whole. The mentored hunt was held in mid-November at the Springbrook Conservation Education Center. My mentor was Megan Wisecup, a close friend, who was ready and willing to not only remind me of safety and practical hunting tips, but also to hold my hand and help me to overcome something that I have always battled - patience. Over and over she let me know that if it did not feel right – hold up, don’t shoot. And when I asked what did it feel like after the shot had been fired, she let me how it was different for everyone and that I only had to do what I felt most comfortable doing. Friday night’s classes taught us about laws and regulations regarding deer hunting. The state deer biologist was on hand to introduce us to the history and current status of Iowa’s deer herd. I had no idea that the deer in Iowa have no natural predators and the population would peak and crash if there were no hunters. We examined hunting equipment from bows, guns and tree stands to the proper amounts of blaze orange and thermal underwear. The amount of information presented to us in three hours began to seep in, and it was as I lay in my bunk that night that I finally had the comforting notion of “so that’s why we hunt.” Saturday morning came bright and early and following breakfast we headed to the range where I tried to pick off a paper target with a borrowed 20 gauge shotgun. After firing five poor shots that Megan said were “really close,” I packed it in and wanted to give up as I had no desire to fire on an animal that wouldn’t be a “one shot, one kill.” Those at the range kept telling me that the kill zone on a deer was much larger than this paper target. Megan announced I could use her black powder muzzleloader and suddenly I was ready to finish out the weekend and head into the woods. That afternoon we drove into the Springbrook State Park and found our assigned zone. Hunting is normally not allowed in state parks so this was a unique opportunity to help with population control and also made the area safer for the new hunters and their mentors. The weather was amazing and I was comfortable in jeans and a sweatshirt; no need to pull out the thermals, heat packs and winter coat just yet. We donned our blaze orange, packed ammunition, a blanket to sit on and my camera and set off into the woods. No sooner had we taken 20 to 30 steps when a buck and two does jumped and raced off. My heart was suddenly in my throat and I had to take a moment to come back down as I grinned like a Cheshire cat at Megan. We found a tree and sat at the base. My eyes rose to the woods and my first thought was how it looked like a highly difficult puzzle. The trees were densely populated and bare of leaves which instead coated the ground with a thick brown and yellow carpet. I looked for spaces in which I could take a shot. Through this group of trees here, a couple other spaces over there but a reminder that there was a road to think about over the shoulder to the left. After just 20 minutes my eyes and ears seemed to open in a way they have never been before and the woods changed moment by moment. I began to see oddly shaped trunks, branches that formed a skywalk system, hawks soaring and calling out, woodpeckers pounding on trees close by, the faint sound of a car on a roadway and the cracks of shotguns in other zones of the park. This was my first experience of being quiet enough to hear what has to be an enormous animal making its way towards you over the course of 15 minutes, only to see a small squirrel appear flipping his tail at me while my heart tries to return to a normal pace and volume. Hours into our Saturday afternoon hunt I was beginning to grow frustrated as buck after buck would walk through my zone and stop to look at us as if to ask how the antlerless season was going. The only times they didn’t stop was when they were racing after the does we were hoping would stop. It was like a game of wildlife Pong being played in the gulley before us; lots of action but nothing stopping. And then it happened. Three does jumped up and over the trail more like rabbits then a large four legged animal, and the second stopped about 10 yards before us and turned to look right at me. I had the gun up, safety off and was just about to take the shot with my blood pounding in my ears when I saw out of the corner of my right eye a flash of orange. Immediately I flipped on the safety and lowered the gun, spooking the doe and in a flash it was over. Someone had been walking the gulley down range of where my doe had been standing, but thankfully he was decked out in orange and stood out from the habitat around him. It was almost sundown. The hunt would need to wait until morning. Sunday morning started out much colder than Saturday. I put on the layers and pulled on the winter coat with my blaze orange as we headed into the woods. The previous day had been frustrating, but I was full of anticipation and was amazed at how comfortable I had grown in this small section of the park. I felt right at home. A soft freezing rain began to fall into the leaves and the forest again began to wake up. I exhibited another round of patience and as we worked to move just a couple of feet back and to the left. Megan pointed out the running does. It was an amazing sight and the sound of their hooves through the dry leaves was already becoming distinctive. I wished for one to stop, but did not get my wish until a second herd came bounding down into the gulley. One stopped behind a thick tree, her head whipping around and looking up right at us. I willed her to take two more steps and as she moved I flipped off the safety and squeezed the trigger. Honestly I don’t know if it was the crack of the gun or the blood pumping into my ears that had me more overwhelmed. It’s unexplainable how loud a gun can be after you’ve forced yourself to listen to the rustle of leaves for two hours. We began to work our way down to where the doe was last seen and after looking up and over the rise we finally found her laying on her right side. She had left very little blood trail and I found out later that it had been a lung shot. I had gotten my “one shot, one kill” and for that I was thankful. Soon there were five of us beginning to prepare the doe for field dressing and I know I couldn’t get the smile off my face. It was a completely different experience then what I would have ever imagined. I was sure that deer hunting meant you just walked into the woods, waited for a doe to pose, pull the trigger and you have your deer. I know now it’s something so much more. Even if you do not have a desire to thin the herd I would suggest heading into the woods with a camera, keeping your eyes and ears open. Without sounding cliché, the woods are magical and do come to life in ways I would have never expected. I am so thankful for having the opportunity to try something new with the help of friends, co-workers and those at the Springbrook Conservation Education Center. I can’t wait to go back next year, and hopefully be a mentor to someone else who will walk away from the experience with an enhanced respect for our wild animals, their habitat and how it is our responsibility to make sure both exist for generations to come.  Tracy Fahrion
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