Official Newspaper of Eddy County since 1883

Tradition with a twist

My husband and I started our relationship on a gravel road in rural Wells County (somewhere between Barlow and Cathay, if my memory serves me correctly) exactly 22 years ago this past weekend. At that time there were over a dozen Wobbema family members out for the opening day of deer gun season. I remember the sea of blaze orange and caravan of pickup trucks.

That was my first adult experience hunting, and I will carry it with me for life. Since I didn’t have a tag, I walked treebelts in my puffy, down-filled winter coat layered underneath a rather large blaze orange jacket. His dad and uncles said I looked like a pumpkin, and I listened to them tell jokes and share hunting stories. Why I didn’t run after that, I don’t know.

Instead, I got hooked. I took hunter’s safety classes with my sister-in-law while I was pregnant with our oldest, and got my first deer gun tag in 2004.

I don’t recall going hunting as a kid, but I do remember making hunter’s stew for the hunters to enjoy when they returned from the field. That stew stayed in the oven all day, and the meat was as tender as it was delicious by the time it reached our mouths.

I still make that stew for my family. It’s the perfect crock pot meal for chilly fall days, and even better for snowy winter evenings. I love walking in the house after a long day at the office to the smell of that simmering stew.

That’s how it goes with traditions. As I became a part of the Wobbema family, it was a given that I would join the opening weekend hunting party, and make roast sandwiches to eat while on the hunt. As our family grew (bigger and older), fewer and fewer of the relatives gathered.

We haven’t formally hunted as a group for several years, but we do run into other members of the family occasionally during the season when we’re out. We park side-by-side and talk through the windows of our vehicles, ready to bolt as soon as we get a glimpse of a white tail bouncing through the field.

Another part of the hunting tradition in the Wobbema family is making sausage and jerky. We use pork, bison and venison in our sausage, and we’ve tried several different jerky recipes over the years. We all pitch in to mix, stuff and package both ring and bulk sausage, which we enjoy all year until the next time we make it.

As I write this, the opening day of deer season is just two days away, and readers, it’s not the same. There isn’t a roast in the fridge, waiting to be made into sandwich meat for the upcoming hunt, and the blaze orange vests, hats and jackets are still packed away in the garage.

No one in our household will be out deer hunting during the 2022 gun season, as our 13-year old son filled the only deer gun tag in the house during the youth season. In fact, I haven’t drawn a deer gun tag in the lottery for three straight years.

I am quite busy with work, but I sure wouldn’t mind taking a few days off and heading to the field.

Yes, I’d probably spill coffee in the pickup at least once, and I would definitely fall asleep waiting for deer to wander into my purview. But it’s also likely that I’d come up clutch and put some more meat in the freezer.

Instead, we’ll improvise and modify the tradition a little bit. Plans are in the works for my husband and kids to go bow hunting in December, after the gun season closes. Even our college-age daughter wanted a bow tag this year. I will not be hunting though, because I haven’t mastered the art of archery.

I’m sure they’ll somehow manage to harvest enough meat to make sausage and jerky, and the tradition will continue. Meanwhile, I will definitely make hunter’s stew, because I don’t need a deer tag to do that.

I came across a quote from Michael Novak as I reflected on how our traditions have endured, although they have changed with the times. “Tradition lives because young people come along who catch its romance and add new glories to it.”

Bullseye!

Our kids, who were born into this hunting tradition, will soon leave home. I hope that the tradition of hunting each fall continues in some way, especially if they add their own twist to it.