by Will Christianson
Have you ever snuck into the woods before sunrise? This hunting tradition can lead to unexpected adventures. I have wandered in and sat still in the darkness listening to nocturnal movements. I wondered what creature I heard making its way through the forest. Is it the steps of a deer, or timber wolf, or the waddling of a raccoon or possum?
One beautiful winter morning, before I could even see the hands in front of my face, I heard an animal charge at me. Fortunately, there was a tree between us. My silent response most likely confused the animal and it continued on its way. I have heard many times from crusty outdoorsmen like my father say that “they” are more afraid of you then you are of “them.” That experience was pretty nerve racking - I can’t imagine what the animal was going through.
Darkness begins to lift, revealing the gray, winter colors of the forest contrasting with the white snow on the ground. I hear the arrival of the next shift of forest creatures: birds, squirrels, and mice. The silence before their awaking is so peaceful, and I take the time to reflect upon the important things in life: family, faith, and my connection to the land in this northwestern corner of Marathon County. My trance is broken by the startling call of the red squirrel sitting in the tree above me. I begin to look more intently upon the lifting shadows to see what other creatures are about.
It’s now about 9 o’clock, the sun is reflecting off the snow and visibility is probably the best I will get in the middle of a forest. I first hear, then see what must be the last flock of geese making their way south for the winter. They better hurry up. Below me is a field mouse moving back and forth between a series of tunnels that must be just below the snow line. I watch it busily darting back and forth and wonder if it even notices my boots less then a foot away. Is this how a hawk observes a mouse before it dives in for the kill?
The morning has been a little dull, but that is about to change. I hear something moving through the woods not far from me. Is it a deer? What comes waddling by amazes me. I have never seen a porcupine in the wild. My presence does not interrupt the porcupine’s journey as it picks a nearby tree and claws its way 30 feet up a tree and fills its stomach. Does the bark taste better 30 feet up rather than 10? After a few minutes, it makes its way down the tree and continues on its journey. The calm routine continues as more squirrels, a murder of crows, and other creatures make their way through the day.
Suddenly, I hear loud crashing in the woods behind me. It sounds like a few spooked deer. As I turn to meet the ruckus, I see a lone timber wolf running straight at me. What a sight! The wolf clearly does not spot me as I can see that its eyes are focusing behind me. When the mighty wolf closes the distance between us to an uncomfortable 15 feet, I raise my hand and give a brief yell. My father is, once again, proven right. The wolf stops dead in its tracks before changing direction and running away. I’d heard that timber wolves were making a comeback in the state, but I’d never witnessed one until now.
Later that afternoon, I see what brought me to this special place: a Wisconsin whitetail deer. I slowly bring my rifle to my shoulder, try my best to control my excited breath, and squeeze the trigger once. Minutes later, I find the final resting spot of this beautiful creature. As I prepare the deer for its final journey, I ponder this tradition that goes back generations in my family.
Long ago, relatives were feeding their families by hunting. Nowadays, we still eat the venison, but my family’s existence does not depend upon my failure or success. This is fortunate considering my many unfilled deer tags of years past.
As I move the deer from the middle of the woods to a waiting truck, I have a lot of time to think about my experience in the woods today. I feel I had a religious experience today. I saw the wonders and beauty of this place and have a better understanding of why it is important to connect with the land. If we do not continue to connect with the land, in whichever way we choose, we are in danger of losing our understanding of why Wisconsin’s natural areas are so important to preserve.