It’s amazing the numerous skills hunters must acquire and master to be successful in the field, skills we come to take for granted.

Non-hunters have no idea the difficulties involved in bagging any type of game. I know for a fact if you were to take a non-hunter with no experience in shooting or woodcraft you could provide them a rifle, camo clothing, and a free license and they would have literally no chance of shooting a deer or turkey on public land — none whatsoever.

First, untrained hunters would be more a danger to themselves than the game or anyone unlucky enough to be close to them if unfamiliar with firearms. How to load or unload it, safety, ammunition specific to the caliber, keeping the muzzle pointing in the correct direction, how to properly hold and shoulder the rifle in order to see clearly through the scope. They have no comprehension how to shoot accurately if by a small miracle they ever manage to somehow acquire the game in the field of view.

Just finding the target with a scoped rifle requires some serious preparation for beginners. With no instruction, forget it, the game would be long, long gone while they were struggling to see through the scope at all.

Any experienced hunter shoulders the rifle, even on moving game, and is instantly looking at the animal through the scope as the stock hits the shoulder. Body, arms and neck all automatically assume the perfect stance. It’s a muscle-memory reflex that takes time and experience to master.

Seeing in the forest is another matter. Whenever I’ve taken an inexperienced person into the woods on foot it’s amazing how much they don’t see! In fact, it’s so difficult to point out game that’s obvious to me. It can become acutely frustrating attempting to point out the animal to them.

One nonhunter with excellent eyesight went hiking with me. I spotted a chipmunk sitting on top of a small stump, the sunlight shining brightly on him only 20 yards away. To a trained eye the rich, reddish color of the chipmunk, the sun actually spotlighting it against the darker green of the leaves and the fact it was positioned on top of a stump made the small animal stand out like a sore thumb.

“Look at that chipmunk!” I exclaimed, pointing. “Isn’t he pretty?”

My friend stared and stared, but was unable to see it. I was amazed, but then asked if he could see the stump? Which stump, he then asked; there were several stumps in view. I immediately thought the stump with the chipmunk on it was the obvious answer, but restrained my impatience.

It took three-four minutes before he finally was able to focus on the chipmunk and “see” it. He laughed at himself, of course, but the fact was his eyes were unaccustomed to picking out living shapes, colors and textures amid the complexity of the forest. If any of the animals we saw that hike moved he spotted them quickly, but if they remained still, he was in trouble. To recognize the shape of a deer’s ear, the round of its rump or straight line of the back at 100 yards was an impossible task for him.

Following up on that thought is the critical importance of motion itself. Nothing reveals you or your quarry’s presence quicker than motion, no matter how slight. Quick, jerky motions are immediately detected and assumed to be threatening, an animal’s instinctive reaction is to run, flush or hide.

It seems to be a human being’s instinct, especially if excited, to point directly at something they’ve spotted. This, of course, is the worst, most alarming, thing you can do.

Experienced hunters realize motion is your biggest enemy and have trained themselves to freeze the instant a wild creature is detected. Many times you see each other simultaneously. I’ve stood with one foot in the air until the agony was unbearable while a deer stood staring, not quite sure what I was. Any additional movement, no matter how slight, spooks the animal.

It is difficult to explain to non-hunters how quickly things can happen. Despite the most careful scrutiny of your surroundings, ceaselessly, looking 360 degrees around you, animals often appear as if by magic. One second the clearing’s empty, the next there stands a buck! How in the world did he get so close? It’s spooky, but any hunter will tell you it’s true.

It may take months for a dedicated hunter to find a shootable buck. Their quest most likely includes many 11-hour days in the archery stand with rain, cold, snow, high winds, boredom, discomfort, discouragement, depression and disillusionment. “Why am I doing this?” you ask yourself time after time, and the answer is ever so elusive.

One may as well ask why bird dogs are only truly happy on the scent of a pheasant or lions roar when beginning their night’s pursuit. Though harvesting game is the high point of the hunt, it is a small part of the quest itself, for success is often very elusive and even absent. Why do we hunt, then? There’s no guarantees.

Dogs bark, hens lay eggs, rabbits dig holes and male turkeys gobble, wolves howl. If you ask me why I’ve always hunted, my only logical answer is because: “I am and I must.”