Part 12: Hunting

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A hunting we will go, a hunting we will go…. such a cliche, isn’t it? but true. Once a week I was being asked by my Russian friends “let’s go hunting.” So casual too… imagine going to a bar, meeting some people for the first time and saying “Let’s go kill something this weekend.”

After 2 years I finally bit the bullet (see what I did there) and I tossed the thought around in my head; can I do this, am I this kind of person, am I not a conservationist, is this morally correct… the list goes on and on.

Why is hunting so taboo?

 It’s not poaching. Remember when the whole of UK and France were upset because certain beef products turned out to be horse? - what do you expect? If you don’t see what’s going down in the slaughterhouse, sorry, abattoir, you don’t know where your meat is coming from. That’s the risk of trusting a label. Don’t even get me started on McDonald's. Before I give you my final answer - let’s go through the process of going hunting in Russia.

 Firstly, there are hunting seasons. You can’t just walk out the door, into a forest and shoot something. If you want to go through the whole list of game; check out this link http://www.russianhunting.com/hunting-in-russia
But from first person perspective here’s how it goes down: Assuming you have your hunting camouflage, gear, ridiculous hat, gun, the next step is an early start. 6 am wakeup.

 We arrive at the hunting grounds, handing over necessary documents (yes you need to prove who you are, have necessary licences, etc.) and from there you sit in a room full of dead animals staring back at you while you eat a little breakfast, drink coffee and prepare for what’s about to go down. We are all on this old army type of truck, semi-converted to be 5% more comfortable.

8 of us. All guys are psyched. They’ve been drinking vodka all night, getting themselves psyched up, some of them have got these guns that are like cannons, you know that could shoot a squirrel on Britney Spears’s shoulder or something. I got a double-barrelled rifle. 

2 shots. That’s all you’re entitled to. 2 shots, 2 pieces of meat. Driving through the forest, along a dirt track. Early traces of winter. The first place we stop at, we need to walk through some bushes to stand on these wooden hunting platforms. Rule is simple; if it has horns or tusks, shoot it. Shoot in the direction he tells you to, and lastly, don’t shoot the crew who are helping to wrangle the wildlife in your direction. The first platform was uneventful; and the second… the funny thing is I said to my father-in-law; “this is how you put on a good show. You build the anticipation and then third time around you see something.” It’s showmanship 101. And I was 100% right. It was my first time. With 1 bullet I shot and killed a 160kg male Elk. Could have weighed more, who knows. But there are so many emotions once that trigger is pulled.

But the overall concept of whether or not a person can or cannot do this; my feeling is that your mind is made up the second you walk through the door of a place like this. Hunter, or Gatherer? There’s no room for apology. And there’s no room for guilt. This animal exists to be shot and eaten - otherwise there would be a mall here instead of a beautiful forest, and him and his 2000 cousins wouldn’t exist. Imagine eating a steak across the table from the man who killed it and telling him off for it. It seems in a modern world, the necessity to kill has been passed on to someone else. We don’t all live on farms anymore. We don’t have to feed Bessy the cow for 2 years then slit her throat. Out of sight, out of mind. If you’re not a vegetarian… shut up, basically.

Of course following this was the usual male camaraderie; drink this vodka, handshakes, but I don’t let it detract from the humbling moment myself and the animal shared. It feels like something from another time. Some question and answer of being confident and being on top of the food chain.

Now I give the experience as a whole 8/10. Why only 8, you ask, well when I’m told I’m going hunting, I’ve got a Wilbur Smith adventure novel in my head; there’s going to be some wild bushman teaching me how to dip my fingers in shit, bits of fur left on a branch, just to track animals. The experience was not that. It was; stand on this platform while we chase an animal into your line of fire. Then it comes down to purely accuracy. That part I’ve got down. But I was hoping to learn more about how to follow through the forest, chase the male buck all day… you get the idea. They even clean the animal for you. I was ready to get down and do the dirty work, but fortunately they had trained professionals there.

Would I do it again? I would. I would even suggest for someone to do it. There will be warnings, make no mistake, but I would say there is something in it. The world needs hunters. Otherwise give up steak. One thing I would like to touch up on is; I didn’t pull that trigger until I was absolutely certain. How many people wielding guns in this world can say that? How many gangsters are out there acting bigshot sticking guns in peoples faces with no respect for what they are carrying. They say a gun gets lighter the more you carry it, but heavier the more you use it. I’m not saying take all the kids from juvi-prison hunting, that’s a bad idea, what I am saying is after this experience that I had more of a respect and regard for life.

Don’t rip off something you haven’t tried.
Check out my books here: www.jamesbrough.com