Jim Casada

Contributing Editor

More years ago than I really care to remember, a grizzled veteran who’d hunted whitetails for better than a half century shared his thoughts with me on hunting in general and trophies in particular.

“A trophy,” he remarked, “is like beauty. It is all in the eye of the beholder.”

At that time I was early in adulthood and obsessed with dreams of what folks in the area liked to call “wall hangers,” and his thoughts had virtually no impact on me. Yet with the passage of time, the taking of a lot more deer, and observing increasing use of and fixation with the “trophy” concept, the wisdom inherent in this sage’s word has been increasingly clear.

The contents of some magazines literally revolve around trophies, and rest assured they do not think of them in terms of what the whitetail means to the successful hunter. Instead, it is strictly a numbers game. Keeping “score” by scoring racks has become the be-all and end-all of some hunters’ approach to sport, and to be perfectly honest, I find that disturbing. Much preferable, in my opinion, is a devotion to quality. And that means quality in both management terms and hunter satisfaction.

In this context, The Whitetail Institute’s Steve Scott has an interesting perspective. “you can travel to hunt really big deer,” he says, and he might have added that such jaunts can involve plenty of that vital ingredient my grandfather used to describe as “cash money” (the redundancy probably had something to do with the fact that he never had much of it). “Or,” Scott continues, “you can grow quality deer through good management practices on land close to home.” What this straight forward opinion suggests, in effect, is that for most hunters it makes much more sense to focus on developing deer to the capacity or trophy size possible on a given piece of land as opposed to pursuing near impossible dreams at some distant location.

TROPHY CONCEPT EVOLVES

Veteran hunter Jim Crumley, the developer of Trebark camouflage and a highly skilled woodsman who carefully manages his property in Virginia for big deer, takes matters a bit further. He sees the concept of “trophy” as one that evolves over time with any thoughtful, insightful hunter.

“I’ve been exclusively a bowhunter for 30 years,” he says, “and the first year my only deer was a doe. Nonetheless, to me it was a milestone, or, if you want to put it that way, a real trophy.

“The next step in my progression,” Crumley reminisces, “was any buck. For me, the first one happened to be a 4-pointer, but a spike or anything carrying antlers was just fine. From that point on I gradually became more selective, and that natural progression eventually led me to where I am today. Now my benchmark is any 8-point deer that I consider mountable.”

“I haven’t done a whole lot of hunting where there are really monstrous bucks, but my feeling is that if you are able to outwit any deer which is two and a half years old or older, you had better shoot.”

Crumley indicates that he went through a somewhat similar stage of development as an elk hunter, and this is probably the case with many hunters. In a sense, you might liken the maturation of a hunter to that all of us experience in the game we call life. The adolescence of a hunter, no matter what his age, involves more than a small degree of bloodthirstiness. The “if it’s brown it’s down” attitude holds sway, and not so much as a split second of thought is given to matters which will later be ones of some moment. These include restrictions against shooting a button buck or yearling spike, immature does, and the like. Quite simply, such distinctions make no difference at this early stage.

Strange as they may seem to many readers of this publication, there is some justification for this viewpoint. For example, you can make a convincing argument for letting a youngster on his first hunt shoot the first whitetail that offers him a reasonable opportunity. After all, his adrenalin will be running rampant, and a kid in that situation has enough things on his mind without needing to worry about other things.

Rest assured that a lad with his first deer, never mind its sex or size, will wear a smile for days. To him, that deer is a trophy, and I suspect for most of us our first whitetail is one of our most memorable. Certainly for me that is true, and the details connected with the 95-pound doe killed so many years ago remain sharply etched on the tablets of my mind.

An interesting twist to this “the first deer is always a trophy” scenario centers on an outlook which, though about as wrongheaded as it possibly could be, remains surprisingly prevalent. This mentality holds that any buck, no matter what its size or the nature of its rack, at the very least merits bragging rights. This traces back to the early days of whitetail restoration when biologists preached the “bucks only” gospel with a great deal of fervor. So well did they implant this concept that even today, there is a segment of the hunting population that disdains the taking of does but will readily shoot a spike buck that probably still carried spots just a few months ago.

EARLY DAYS

Most of the folks with this mind set harken back to a time, in the not too distant days of yesteryear, when whitetails were scarce over much of the country. In truth, I grew up in this sort of situation, and despite being in the woods constantly, the total number of deer I had seen by the time I set off for college probably numbered less than 20. Rest assured that in that sort of situation any and all legal deer ( and that was bucks only over much of my native state, North Carolina) were trophies. Today many folks still seem unable to escape that now outdated mentality of what constitutes a trophy. They still need a solid dose of what country singer Hank Williams, Jr. called an “attitude adjustment.”

Interestingly, for those born long after the “bucks only” sermons ceased to be preached, the second step in their evolution as hunters closely resembles that of some diehard old timers.

Once they have taken a few deer, most likely the majority of them does, they become increasingly desirous of shooting bucks—any bucks. As a rule this second step in metamorphosis is relatively short-lived and soon sees the hunter progress to the next rung on the ladder. At this point he becomes primarily interested in taking a trophy, although precisely what that means will vary according to circumstances, the area of the country, peer pressure from fellow hunters, and a host of other circumstances. Generally speaking though, “taking a trophy” at this stage means killing a mature buck which is two and a half years of age or older and which sports an 8-point or larger rack.

Some folks never move beyond this stage, but many others do as they reach the top of the mental mountain that, in my mind at least, defines them as a truly sage and seasoned whitetail hunter. At that juncture, the hunter becomes both highly selective and quality conscious. Yet it does not mean he shoots fewer deer or passes up everything he sees. Rather, his selectivity focuses on what is best for the overall health of the herd. He remains intensely desirous of shooting a splendid buck, and my personal view is that when someone no longer feels a rush when he sights “old mossy horns” he has ceased to be a real hunter. On the other hand, this individual is something of a meat hunter as well. He willingly shoots does, although in a sense he is just as selective as he is with bucks. Only mature does, fat and long-nosed matrons unaccompanied by fawns still too young to make it on their own, become targets, and they do so only after the most careful of visual scrutiny to make certain that they are what they seem. But to my way of thinking, at least, no one wants to spend endless hours in the stand without pulling the trigger. They want some action, some venison in the freezer, and the good old American feeling of putting meat on the table.

A hunter of this ilk has, in my studied opinion, reached the highest stage of mental evolution. He is truly a trophy hunter. He ventures afield with the same will to succeed which define any predator, but accompanying that will is a sense of vision which encompasses sound management principles and is grounded in a heartfelt desire for the deer herd to not merely survive but to thrive. This latter viewpoint, a belief that we as hunters can and should do our part to make matters better for ourselves and the animals which give us so much delight, lies at the heart of the kind of management concepts promoted by The Whitetail Institute.

In closing, I would ask you to ponder these thoughts on trophies and suggest that you make an honest effort to assess just where you stand in your personal evolution as a hunter. All of us can, I believe, agree that sound management practices lie at the heart of deer hunting’s future, and in the wide, wonderful world of the whitetail there is ample room for any and all who are ethical hunters.

I would, however, urge you to practice a bit of self-analysis and decide where you stand on the whole matter of trophies. After all, the thinking hunter is a good hunter, and we owe it to the animal we all cherish to have a solid understanding of just what our personal perspectives are.

When they are predetermined, there’s no need for agonizing over “Should I? Shouldn’t I?” when your finger is on the trigger and the moment of truth is at hand.