Cowgirl Sass & Savvy

Hear the call of the wild

by Julie Carter

They are here and they are everywhere. The fall months bring out the masses of hunters seeking trophy antelope, deer, and elk.

Walmarts across hunting country are full of camo’d men talking on cell phones and loading up with ammo, hard candy and beanie weenies. They drive into town in big, powerful and very expensive vehicles pulling heavily loaded trailers full of all the essentials for a successful hunting camp.

This would include at least 17 gigantic coolers filled with plenty of fine camp cuisine including t-bone steaks and cold beer, a selection of brand new ATVs and camp trailers that completely take the “camp” out of camping.

Studies indicate that hunting and other wildlife-associated recreation bring more than $1 billion to New Mexico's economy, including $127 million from outfitting and guiding businesses. 

What those numbers boil down to is the majority of that income comes from imported hunters. They come from every corner of the country wearing and owning everything Cabelas had to offer. 

They ride around in a big diesel truck hoping something with horns will jump out in the road before it gets dark. They will pay $2,500 a gun to hunt in places game is so scare that the landowner does his hunting at the neighbors.

Small towns in the heart of hunting country offer free chili suppers or free breakfast for hunters. One guy reported it cost him about $200 in gas to go around to all the little towns and eat their food. He isn’t a hunter, just an eater.

Signs will be posted “45 miles to the next ammo store” and if doesn’t say “ammo” it says “beer.”

While I mock the current state of the sport of hunting, it is not foreign to me and mine. I come from a long line of meat hunters who indeed hunted first for family sustenance and later as a family sport and somewhat a rite of passage to manhood for my brothers.

The “locals” just gear up, go kill something, bring it home, skin it out, cut it up and know they have winter meat in the freezer. While they have plenty of fun doing it, it is more a way of life than an epiphany for them.

I have a son who wore his first camouflage as a toddler. He is a young man now and the lure of hunting annually matched his growing size. He took on archery hunting as well as rifle, and even learned to run a trap line that honored the generations before him.

In the early years, the discovery of marketed “scents” to disguise his “people” smell while sitting in a hunting blind was an exciting find for him. Somehow, the idea of wearing elk urine scent on his clothing was completely entertaining to him at an age where he found that anything gross was hysterically funny.

Like those that came before him, he lived for the next hunt and the next hunting camp which was apparently as fun as the hunt itself.

Each season was marked by a gleeful note when I would hear, “Mom, the new Cabelas catalog just came in the mail!”

Julie can be reached for comment at jcarternm@gmail.com .