hunting in ten acts
2015 October 22
- I shot a bull elk through the lungs.
- Then, I cried, feeling as if we duped him with our human cunning and high-tech tools.
- Field dressing was like tantric animal positioning: right hind leg raised up over my back; left shoulder propped against my hip. His hooves smelled like osha leaves.
- The Bob Dylan lyrics, after we took from you everything we could steal, drifted through my mind repeatedly. We took his 4 legs, hide, liver, heart, ribs, backstraps, tenderloins, brain, antlers and two teeth.
- For the next four days, we walked. We walked the same 5-hour roundtrip everyday: camp to kill-site, and back to camp. In: light and loose. Out: packs groaning with the gravity of meat on our backs. The simple, joyous work of a single-focused, anciently human task—no modern tools required—cleared space in my mind for feelings to swirl in and out: grief, gratitude, satisfaction, curiosity, awe.
- For five days, I didn’t worry, strategize, or brainstorm about the children. Parts of my brain that had been hyper-extended for 10 1/2 years simply relaxed.
- An animal dying in the woods is big news: flies are first on the scene, a buzzing symphony of purposeful activity. Grey jays nip meat and fat right from under your knife. Ravens swarm, claiming the carcass for their tribe (once humans have cleared out). A golden eagle is spotted leaving the scene. A black bear shows up, curious.
- An animal dying in the woods is not big news: the next morning, a herd of elk is gathered not far from the kill, bulls bugling like beasts from the underworld, cows shuttling calves across the talus. Business as usual.
- Everyday there were prayers, chants, blessings of gratitude and rituals, all reminders of our human place in this wild world: as both intruders and belonging deeply.
- On our last day, packing up camp, I felt the sense of an ending, leaving such a rarefied human experience and heading back into my modern life of multi-pronged demands. I also felt the sense of a beginning, of a new understanding of a direct relationship and responsibility between meat eater and animal.
The shangri la of tents, borrowed from a friend (there’s a wood stove in there!…and pool table, couch, library…OK, not so much, but there was room for TWO camp chairs and a TABLE).
I’ve been contracted to write the follow-up hunting story to this one, for the winter issue of Edible Southwest Colorado Magazine, so I can’t get too detailed here. I have so much more to share! And, I promise I will, you’ll just have to wait until December.
Now, onto butchering, feasting and searching out palatable liver recipes!
Rachel
Good job, Rachel! As usual, wonderful observations about life and the woods. Thank you.
P.S. – I am in awe of your hunting and also jealous.
Congratulations, Rachel. I have been eagerly waiting for your trip report! My husband is in the mountains this week. Hope he has the same success. Enjoy!
Congratulations, Rachel! What an experience, to get back to such a primal and ancient connection with nature, and your food source. I’m sure Dan appreciated the help with
stocking the larder, too :)
how wonderful. Can’t wait for more details. I knew you would get one!
Amazing!
I’m so glad to hear you’re back and that it went well, and I’m very much looking forward to the follow-up story! Treat yourself especially kindly for a while. This is a lot to work through. Congratulations and condolences, Susan
Congrats on a successful adventure – on so many fronts. Can’t wait for the detailed story!
You are inspiring!
Congratulations! Looking forward to the article.
Having read your article in Edible just last night by the fire, I had a good cry reading this beautiful post today! Thank you for taking me on your journey. I am in awe!
Congratulations! I, like many others, was thinking about your journey and awaiting the report. Can’t wait to read more details.
“His hooves smelled like osha leaves.”
“The simple, joyous work of a single-focused, anciently human task—no modern tools required—cleared space in my mind for feelings to swirl in and out: grief, gratitude, satisfaction, curiosity, awe.”
“Everyday there were prayers, chants, blessings of gratitude and rituals, all reminders of our human place in this wild world: as both intruders and belonging deeply.”
Thank you Rachel for being so much you in everything you do :o)
And hugs xo
Amazing description, love the vignettes. You are brave to take on such a challenge and new experience, and even braver for sharing all this with us. Thanks.
Hi Rachel,
Nicely done. You are so brave & strong.
I miss your column in the Sunday Herald.
Sincerely,
Bonnie
Bonnie,
It’s still running!
Only now it’s the 4th Thursday of the month (yesterday) instead of every other Sunday.
Thanks for reading,
Rachel
Your words are holy- thank you! You brought me to your campsite, the kill site and to our ancestors’ reality thousands of years ago.
Congratulations on your first big hunt. Most of all for shooting it in the lungs, a good clean , quick kill. Could you please tell me how you keep the meat you have to leave behind safe, until you can comeback for it ?
Nan,
We hang the meat in a shady spot, wrap it in a “space blanket,” which is metallic, crinkly and makes a weird noise in the wind, hopefully distasteful and scary to predators. We add a human-scented shirt and Dan pees all around the area.
This method has been successful so far, thankfully!
Thank-you for the information, the space blanket is a great idea. I am a big girl with a tiny bladder, so I will have no problem with the peeing part. Enjoy your elk.
Me too, Nan, but the spray hydraulics of the male system are quite effective.
Wow! I’ve been looking forward to this report and it is as good as I’d hoped!
Wow Rachel, you are officially the coolest mama I know!!! Love!
so. freaking. rad.
xoxo
Hi Rachel,
I think I started to read this as soon as it was posted and then got pulled away. I love your writing. Thanks for sharing this experience. I loved everything you had to say – so profound.