Thanks to a young buck I downed on Sunday at the family farm, my favorite venison tenderloin and backstrap are back on the menu at my house, along with shoulder roast, stew meat and the ever-abundant ground.
I’m thankful my father taught me how to hunt and fish. I’m thankful for the 30-30 rifle my nephew gave me that was my father’s. I’m thankful for the animal that will now provide meat for my family.
Every day leading up to the opening of deer season, I am prepping, getting all my gear ready, and making plans with the family on where we’re going to hunt on the property.
We all have our favorite spots. I have two.
I love my nephew’s old deer stand on the south side of our land. It’s not too far off the ground, a basic small metal stand that’s easy for me to climb up and get settled quickly on a cold morning. It has a swivel chair, so I can rotate and see the 360 degrees around with a beautiful meadow surrounded by forest. My other favorite place to hunt is not too far from my childhood home, behind an area we all still call the garden, although the rows and rows of vegetables my parents used to grow are only memories.
My dad was an avid deer hunter. Every year it was a much-anticipated ritual as he prepared for the big hunt. I loved to tag along. He would wake me in the early hours, probably around 4 or 4:30 a.m., because we had to be in the stand before daybreak. I can still see him putting on his heavy green coveralls, his blazing orange vest, his stocking cap, and rifle.
Now, it’s me pulling up my green coveralls, his same old orange vest. Wearing his vest makes me feel connected to our early hunting days and using his old hunting knives make the experience even better.
He taught me so much. Especially how to be still.
Now, I hunt with my nephew, his wife and their daughter, and my boyfriend, Matt.
Matt has taught me even more than my dad did, especially about processing deer. He taught me how to gut my own deer in the field, and together we work to skin, clean and process my harvest.
I enjoy everything about opening day and sitting in the cold, dark morning, looking up at the stars, listening as the animals begin to stir in the woods. As the sun begins to rise, my eyes dart all around, just waiting to hear that snort, that hoof stomp.
For me, there’s a deeper connection to the foods I prepare for my family when I’ve harvested it myself.
The meal I prepared Sunday evening is about as basic as you can get, but it is one of the most delicious. After Matt cut out the tenderloins, I slow cooked them in a pan with butter and seasonings – I used some Italian dressing as a marinade – but you can go as simple as just a little salt and pepper, and it is fall apart tender in just a few minutes. We were so tired from the busy weekend, I just added a scoop of cooked carrots as our side. This meal seemed perfect just as it was, but a side of roasted or mashed potatoes would go well, too.
