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November 6, 2006
Hunters: Be Gone
I have reached the point of exasperation with hunters. They are present in the surrounding national forest in obnoxious jeeps-with-custom-shotgun-mounts-blaze-orange-hats-and-jackets-and-three-beer-coolers-per-truck fashion. In principle, I am not opposed to hunting or to those that do it. Many families I know around here shoot an elk or a couple of deer in the fall to provide meat for the winter season, an example of simple, sustainable living. I am exhausted with the out-of-town hunters who are here to party, recreate with reckless abandon, litter their beer cans, shoot something with big antlers, and just generally disrespect the local land and people.
I've been sharing the national forest with the hunters since the season opened in Montana a few weeks ago. I finally fold, I'm not going back to the national forest until the season is over. While this decision harshly impairs my access to good running routes for the next several weeks, I no longer care to be yelled at, leered at, followed, and chased. I don't care to listen to the sound of distant and not-so-distant gunshots as I run. I don't want to be saddened by the clusters of beer cans and bottles littered along my running routes. Most importantly, I don't care to get (unintentionally or intentionally) killed.
I have lost count of the number of times this hunting season that trucks have stopped to chastize me for running in hunting territory (I'm only running right now along the main forest service roads, not on abandoned logging roads, trails, or otherwise in the backcountry. They are wide and well-traveled at this time of year by many modes of movement. For instance, along the road today, I saw truck, 4-wheeler, horse, and pedestrian tracks.). And, gasp, without something blaze orange on my body to boot. I politely remind those that slow long enough to listen to my response that we're sharing this public land and it's designated for many uses.
I saw three hunters gutting a buck last week. They had shot it a somewhere off the road, dragged it back to their parked truck, and were cleaning it at the truck. It was all loud storytelling-bantering with booze and cigars as they worked. They turned nasty when I ran by, asking me for two particular sexual favors. I declined the participation invitation by ignoring them completely. I had to run by this spot again to get back to my car, and I extended my run an extra twenty minutes or so on the chance that they might be gone. They weren't, and we repeated the process again.
And, finally, earlier this week, a jeep (with a custom shotgun mount) containing two hunters played a game of leapfrog with me on a forest service road. They would pass me, pull over, watch me as I ran by, make disparaging comments, and repeat the process ad nauseum. At one point, the two guys got out of the car and asked me if I was scared to run by myself out in the middle of nowhere, laughing with each other as they asked. I provided them with a buffet of choice words and a middle finger as I turned around to head in the direction of my car.
I want to clarify that I think each of these stories is an example of non-local hunters. I haven't encountered an unfriendly local hunter yet. In fact, the locals that are hunting right now are up in the woods recreating all year long. In the spring and summer, they ride their horses. In the fall, it's hunting. And in the winter, they snowmobile the same land. I'm coming to recognize their faces and their trucks, and I suppose by now they recognize me as the girl who's always up there running. We exchange waves, hellos, and "How's the trail?" greetings in passing. I am the new one to their land, and it seems that they've accepted me up there.
I wonder if I will take heat from any hunters in my tiny readership. I hope that I don't, because it is only my intention to write with explicit rudeness (I'm unsure as to whether this writing even qualifies as explicit rudeness.) about the hunters who have treated me specifically and the local land generally without respect.
Though I know the hunters will be around for a few more weeks, I am quite ready for them (the bad ones, anyways) to be gone.
On the running front, 1:20 easy and hilly on a forest service logging road. It was a slogfest, gooey mud at lower elevation, then slush up higher, then slick ice at the highest point to which I climbed. My dog and I were filthy afterwards, and that was awesome. The hills are coming to me easy at the moment, and that is a miraculous feeling.
Posted by Meghan at November 6, 2006 6:45 PM
Comments
This post pissed me off. What happened to you plays into every possible stereotype of redneck lardball hunters: groups of men out to profigately kill animals and litter, thumping their alpha-male simian chests while sitting around a campfire farting n' bragging about sexual conquest. Oh and I forgot harassing poor women runners who happen to have to run by this gaggle of barbaric savages in their climatic moment of bloodlust. I'm sorry that this happened to you, Meghan. Jeez, women have to be so thick-skinned to survive in the seedy parts, the misogynistic parts of this crazy world. Hang in there.
P.S. The post reminded me of the book Never Cry Wolf. Considering your background, I'm sure you've read Mowat.
Posted by: duncan at November 7, 2006 8:15 AM
what boorish schmucks! (nicest term I could think of.)
While I know many hunters who are respectful of the land, the wildlife, and humanity in general, there are plenty more who view the forest as a place to discard all sense of civility. Sad. I'm sorry you've had to encounter them!
I would definitely avoid the forest, too, if I were in your shoes! These guys gave me the creeps! When is hunting season over?
Posted by: anne at November 7, 2006 10:07 AM
Now I feel silly for griping about one mild comment I got on my run today that pissed me off. Those leap-frogging guys would have really had me scared. You just hear too many stories of young women disappearing. You don't run with pepper-spray or mace do you?
Posted by: chelle at November 11, 2006 1:41 PM