Vital Practice.  Putting the shot where it needs to be on a foam target can help eliminate some elements of error in the field, but when a real animal approaches, the excitement can be almost debilitating. Simonson Photo.

By Nick Simonson

Ahead of the firearms deer season, I pondered over my nature.  An excitable guy, subject to the throes of adrenaline and emotion, fidgety and talkative, it’s a wonder I ever got into deer hunting at all, especially the kind I now enjoy most.  After a couple seasons of walking hunting, a mentor introduced me to still hunting, and since then, I haven’t looked back.  That’s usually because I’m seated against a steep hillside or the trunk of a large cottonwood tree to which my deer stand is attached and there’s nothing really to see in that direction anyway. But it’s also due to the fact I could never hit a buck at a dead run with an offhand shot as the deer gets up from cover and sprints away. All humor aside, still hunting has just been a better overall experience which has produced great memories in the long hours of waiting and a better shot when a deer did come into view.

Even from my seated positions, however, the rush of an approaching deer still often gets the best of me.  While unleashing a flurry of arrows to stay dialed in as the gun season got underway last weekend (for which I don’t have a tag this year) I became frustrated by the fact that the foam target never produces the same rush as the real thing and wondered if only there were a way to simulate that experience.  Perhaps caffeine overload from a double espresso or a liter of Diet Mountain Dew ahead of a practice session might do the trick and make my hands and arms shake at the sight of the foam as they do when the fur-covered target comes into view. But then, I’d likely wake up at two in the morning and never fall back to sleep the next night.

I then got to thinking that it’s likely better that I reverse that mentality and consider the furry target more like the foamy one holding my half dozen green-and-black arrows in its vital area.  If next time a deer walks within my comfortable shooting range, be it with the bow, rifle or the upcoming muzzleloader season (for which I do have a tag this year), I should just imagine that instead of a walking, breathing, adrenaline-inducing creature, it’s simply a foam target rolling along on a skateboard pulled by some unseen string a hundred yards to my left like a bad prop in a movie.  The ridiculous idea elicited a laugh in between shots, and perhaps gave me a focal point for whenever that next opportunity occurs in the real world.

Then again, would one ever want to lose the rush that comes with an approaching deer?  The private thunder of heartbeats that echo to the tips of cold ears tucked under a blaze orange hat and the weakness and wobble in the knees, even when seated in the quiet mesh of a trusty chair in a blind or the fabric sling of a treestand would be hard to go without and are so rare and exciting of a sensation I would never want them to dull.  While bravery, as it has been defined, may be the experience of being afraid but saddling up anyway and riding head-on against a challenge, true success in the outdoors may be mastering the shakes and jitters that come with the approach of a wild animal and making a clean shot in that moment of high endorphins, despite all inclinations of the body to break down in that very instant.

Whether it’s foam or fur, each target serves its purpose.  The one in the yard makes sure everything is on point, so that hopefully the only error awaiting me in the outdoors will be the user error of under- or overestimating the distance of a deer as my brain turns to mush as the rush of the chemical combustion created by the animal’s presence melt my gray matter as a byproduct of buck fever.  The latter, well, here’s hoping it will always produce that chemical reaction, and that by some small miracle I’m prepared, lucky, and in that moment of pounding heart and shaking limbs, capable enough of closing the deal…in our outdoors.