On one of my first hunts, after sitting in a stand for about 15 minutes, I told my dad that I didn’t like this part. He asked, “What part do you like?” My response was, “I like the part where the deer walk up and we shoot one!”
Who doesn’t? But the easy hunts are quickly forgotten. The tough hunts are memorable, especially when the result is fresh backstraps.
There is always the one guy who tells the story of waking up late, having forgotten most of his gear, with a single cartridge, who shot a big buck while walking out to his stand an hour after first light. Funny, maybe, but it didn’t build character.
Have we gone too far in bringing the comforts of the indoors into the outdoors? Hunting gear has started looking less like something built for the outdoors and more like something built for an office job.
Battery-powered vests. Hand and toe warmers that stay warm for days. Headlamps bright enough to signal planes. A backup charger for your cell phone. Netflix. Hulu. At some point, the difference between sitting in a La-Z-Boy next to a fire and being in the woods is almost imperceptible.
Overcoming adversity brings us the greatest joy. I suspect this is why so many people in their 20s and 30s are growing their own vegetables and raising their own chickens. It isn’t about saving money, as anyone with an organic garden will tell you. It is about reconnecting to our origins. It is about purity and getting up close and personal with nature.
Someone grabbing a bag of apples at the supermarket is very different than the person who cleared a section of a forest, pulled stumps, planted apple trees, and then waited for several years for the first harvest. Convenient? Nope. Joyful? Definitely.
The more we focus on comfort, the easier it is to forget why we’re outdoors in the first place.
I’m not saying we should head into the woods in a flannel and leather boots like it’s 1935 (although that is an awesome look). Some of our gear makes a huge difference, and I wouldn’t want to give it up.
Good camo? Absolutely. You need to blend in. Warm socks? Non-negotiable. Waterproof boots? Unless you like numb toes, yes. A reliable, accurate weapon? Of course. An ethical shot matters most.
There’s also technology that actually makes us better hunters. GPS and mapping apps help us understand the land. Rangefinders ensure an ethical shot. Cell phones, when used right, are a great tool for navigation and safety. These things aren’t making hunting easier, they’re making it safer and smarter.
But then there’s everything else.
Heated vests, high-tech blinds, scent-eliminating sprays, and other gadgets can do half the work for us. I’m not saying you have to freeze out there, but if you’re so comfortable that you barely notice you’re in the woods, are you really hunting?
We’ve started treating the outdoors like something to be endured instead of something to experience. I’ve sat in blinds that felt like living rooms, insulated, padded, and sealed up so tight that not a whiff of cold air could sneak in. And sure, it was nice in the moment. I’ll admit it was kind of awesome. But I didn’t feel like I was hunting. I was just shooting.
I want to be sitting against a tree while snow falls down on me, waiting to line up a shot as a herd of deer start moving in. That’s hunting.
If you take away the cold, the early mornings, and the waiting, you take away the hunt. The reason a full freezer and a set of antlers on the wall mean something is because you earned them.
So has hunting gone soft?
We are sure heading in that direction.
The best tools you have are still your own ability to read the woods, your toughness, your ability to adapt to the conditions, and your willingness to embrace the challenge.
If hunting were supposed to be easy, it wouldn’t be worth doing.
Tom Zandstra is a passionate outdoorsman and CEO of The Fair Chase. Follow him on X @TheFairChase1.
