sightings were few. Plus, she had a hard time looking through her scope with just one eye, so she carried along an eye patch for her non-scope eye, which made peering through the scope easier. That move earned her the nickname, “The Pink Pirate.” We did manage to see a couple does, but Amanda‘s tag went unfilled that first year.
Amanda Swanson deer hunting in the snowy woods her first season. | JOE SHEAD
A Hunter is Born By Joe Shead
If
I live to be 50, I’ll never understand women. I suppose, in this day of advanced medicine and increasing life expectancy, 50 years seems like a pretty meager goal. But that modest age is irreversibly entwined with my inability to understand the other gender. It took longer than it should have for me to realize that when a female asks if something makes her look fat, the answer is an emphatic “no!” I think the proper way to answer that question would be to give her a split-second glance and say something like, “That outfit makes you look like the prettiest belle at the ball.”
and you’ll be punched in the shoulder or kicked in the shin. Even if your gal is petite, those beatings pack a wallop. Thus, the reason I feel I’ll be doing well to make it to 50.
edge to another woman. Success is measured by the amount of fun had by all, and if any fish make it into the boat, even small ones, everyone shares in the success.
I don’t know why Amanda decided she wanted to go deer hunting. Hunting was not a big part of her family. Her dad and brother formerly hunted, but they held only a passing interest in the sport and it had been years since either pursued deer. I suppose dating me was the impetus for her desire to hunt. She already had a natural love of fishing, even before she met me. She had all her own ice fishing gear, some of which was better than my own equipment. But hunting would be a new realm for her. In my experience, men and women are wired differently when it comes to the outdoor sports. When most guys go fishing, the ultimate goal is to catch fish. Oh sure, they like hanging out and perhaps tipping back a few beers on the water, but at the end of the day, if they haven’t caught some fish, the outing wasn’t successful.
Now, that scenario isn’t 100 percent accurate, but it seems to hold true in a lot of situations. Women just enjoy the outdoors for different reasons than men. And I’ll give them credit, women are very patient and detail-oriented, which serves them well while hunting or fishing. They’re also not too macho to ask for help and they take constructive criticism better than men; especially if it comes from another woman. For these and myriad other reasons, women often excel in outdoor sports.
You don’t even need to look at her to know the answer is “no.” That response should come automatically. But women are so sensitive, you can answer this trick question incorrectly, even when you think you’ve given the proper response. You have to at least glance at her so she knows you’re not just saying she doesn’t look fat, but if you look at her for even a millisecond too long, she’ll think you had considered that Most women, on the other hand, enjoy maybe she does indeed look a bit chubby. the camaraderie and the experience. They Oh, and another thing: there is a language cheer on each other and try to share their barrier across the genders. “Fine” in man knowledge to help make everyone a better speak is not a parallel translation in the fe- angler. They don’t want anything “mansmale dialect. In fact, those words are com- plained” to them—guys hovering around plete antonyms. Use the wrong translation and constantly giving advice. But for them, it’s OK when a woman imparts knowl16
NOVEMBER 2021
NORTHERN WILDS
So, for reasons known only to her, Amanda asked if I would take her deer hunting. The joke may have been on her, however, because Minnesota has a hunting mentorship program, through which individuals can hunt without taking the normally required hunter safety course, as long as their mentor stays within arm’s length. Amanda wasn’t just going hunting; she was about to be a hunter! And of course, the second she found out that she could wear blaze pink clothing instead of the traditional blaze orange, she immediately went on a pink shopping spree.
The following season, things looked much better. For one thing, we wouldn’t be hunting in the woods, where visibility is limited and deer are close and easily spooked when you do see them. We had gotten permission to hunt over a farm field where deer appear each night to feed. Tom, the landowner, laughed when I showed up before season to do some scouting. “All you have to do is watch the field,” he explained. “There will be deer there every night.” As I soon learned, I was trying to overcomplicate a sure bet. On our first evening, Amanda and I watched the field, waiting for deer to appear. Perhaps an hour before dark, a doe and fawn emerged from behind a row of pines and began grazing on alfalfa. They fed trustingly, never realizing they were being watched by predators. Amanda watched intently, enjoying the encounter. Although her tag was good for any deer, she wanted to hold out for a buck. We had three evenings to hunt, and if she had to settle for a doe, she wouldn’t do it until the final evening. As it turned out, her chance at a buck came quicker than expected. The doe and fawn were still feeding in the field when Mr. Big arrived. Well, OK, he wasn’t exactly big. In human terms, he was a teenager. He had just grown his first set of antlers that summer. They consisted of 5-inch spikes on either side of his head. His was a pretty meager rack. But he was a buck. Amanda, who had been so calm while watching the doe and fawn, suddenly began to breathe heavily when she spotted the young buck. She trembled as she raised the rifle. She struggled to see the buck in her rifle scope. A couple weeks earlier, at the shooting range, everyone who watched her shoot was impressed. She was a natural marksman and once we had her scope on target, she regularly hit the bull’s-eye. However, right now she couldn’t even see through the scope, and if she could have, she was so unsteady she would have struggled to hit the broad side of a barn.
Our first season was a struggle. AmanEven though she was leaning on a solid da didn’t have much time to hunt and deer rest, the rifle barrel wobbled from side to
