Woman falls in love with hunting
She used to wonder how people could ‘kill those
innocent creatures.’
MCCLATCHY NEWSPAPERS
KANSAS CITY, Mo. — Deana Schwartzkopf, a nurse from Lee’s Summit, Mo., is about as avid about deer hunting as anyone you will meet.
She relishes the moments when she can slip into the woods, climb into a tree stand and wait for a big deer to walk within shooting range.
She is proficient with her bow, she knows how to use a deer call, she field-dresses her kill and even processes the meat on her own.
But it wasn’t long ago that she never could have pictured herself doing that.
She grew up in western Kansas, a region where hunting was almost a way of life. But Schwartzkopf didn’t exactly fit into that culture.
“I was a tree-hugger, so to speak,” she said with a laugh. “I was one of those people who said: ‘Poor Bambi. You can’t kill those innocent creatures.’
“I was opposed to deer hunting. I couldn’t see why people would do it, and I could never see myself involved in something like that.”
So, why the big change? Well, she began to soften her stance when she talked to ranchers who told her the other side of the story.
“They showed me the damage those pretty deer can cause,” she said. “I saw the crops that were eaten, the fences that were knocked down, the problems deer can cause.
“I learned a lot about how hunting can help in keeping the population in balance.”
Meanwhile, her husband at the time, an avid bow hunter himself, encouraged her to give the sport a try.
He told her about the special appeal of being in the woods on a fall morning and the challenges bow hunting presented.
Schwartzkopf finally relented and remembers a shopping trip to Cabela’s, in which she took the plunge and became a bow hunter.
“Eight hundred dollars later, I was out of there, and I thought, ‘What have I done?’” she said.
She returned to western Kansas and hunted on private land near Webster Reservoir with her ex-husband, from whom she is divorced but remains friends.
They set up in tree stands near each other, and she watched as a small buck walked close enough for her to get off a shot with her bow.
The arrow found the mark — and a bow hunter was born.
“From the moment I let go of the arrow, I was hooked,” she said. “It was a thrill.”
That was in 2003. The next three hunting seasons weren’t quite as thrilling.
Though Schwartzkopf went hunting almost every weekend, she failed to get a deer close enough to shoot.
“I saw the biggest buck I’ve ever seen,” she said. “But the closest he came was 40 yards.
“I was so down after that that I almost needed therapy. Now I have a true understanding of why some of these men get so depressed when they miss a chance at a big deer.”
Which brings us to this year. After moving to the Kansas City area, Schwartzkopf, 43, got permission to hunt on a farm in Jackson County.
She went all-out, using a bottled scent and a call to attract deer. And the strategy apparently worked. She watched a big doe walk out of the woods and to within 15 yards of her tree stand.
She pulled back on the bow, fired and made a clean shot. Moments later, she was celebrating another memorable moment in the woods.
“I just enjoy the overall experience,” she said. “It’s like being a fly on the wall. You’re just part of the ecosystem.
“I’ve had owls land right beside me, I’ve had bobcats walk right under my stand, I’ve had squirrels scold me and throw nuts on my head. ...
“Just being out there in nature, it’s like a different world.”
Schwartzkopf eats what she kills, processing her own venison and making much of it into jerky. That meat is in demand among her fellow workers.
And their reaction to her hunting?
“Some of them think it’s great that I love to deer hunt so much,” she said. “The other half will say: ‘How can you do something like that? It’s so cruel.’
“I can understand both sides. I’ve been there.”
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