Pursuing the Game. Why?

Double Barrel

" '. . . one kills in order to have hunted' (Ortega y Gasset)"

My gundogs want to go hunting, they wants it because it is in their genes. I want it because it is in my genes. We think of hunting and fishing as escape, and they are. The genuine hunter is probably as free as it’s possible to be in this complicated world of ours.
Free to be wholly absorbed in a quieter, deeper, and older world, a freer world if you will.

The Spanish philosopher Jose Ortega y Gasset wrote that "Hunting submerges man deliberately in that formidable mystery and therefore contains something of a religious rite and emotion in which homage is paid to what is divine, transcendent, in the laws of nature."


The virtue of hunting is not so much in possessing game, but in the pursuit of it. It can be said, we know the gathered as only those in the choir know it.
Hunting is walking; walking is thinking; thinking is language.
Talk to me. Why do we do what we do?

spideog7

Shouldn't this be in the Philosophy forum

scuby

Double Barrel wrote: »

" '. . . one kills in order to have hunted' (Ortega y Gasset)"

My gundogs want to go hunting, they wants it because it is in their genes. I want it because it is in my genes. We think of hunting and fishing as escape, and they are. The genuine hunter is probably as free as it’s possible to be in this complicated world of ours.
Free to be wholly absorbed in a quieter, deeper, and older world, a freer world if you will.

The Spanish philosopher Jose Ortega y Gasset wrote that "Hunting submerges man deliberately in that formidable mystery and therefore contains something of a religious rite and emotion in which homage is paid to what is divine, transcendent, in the laws of nature."


The virtue of hunting is not so much in possessing game, but in the pursuit of it. It can be said, we know the gathered as only those in the choir know it.
Hunting is walking; walking is thinking; thinking is language.
Talk to me. Why do we do what we do?

thats deep man.......... i like it though

macnab

I dont enjoy walking as an exercise but put a gun in my hands, a good pair of boots on my feet and the prospect of the hunt, I will gladly walk 4 or 5 miles. I dont actually have to shoot at or kill anything, I just thrive on the solitude and the feeling that I am super alert. When I was a child I could cast a spinner into a river over and over again for hours without a bite and still look forward to the next day that I would go fishing. I believe that the chase is every bit as exciting as the kill.

revan23

exactly, when you're hunting you're constantly expecting something exciting to happen even if it doesn't, if you're just out walking you know nothing's gonna happen.

meathstevie

Macnab, you just summarised it so beautifully. You don't mind getting wet and tired, covered in mud. You'll climb fences, wade through rivers, trudge through bogs. Sit still for ages. For what ? A couple of ounces of meat or the satisfaction of nailing a magpie or a grey crow. But man the joy of it.

Mac Tire

I think that is a question that each of us will have our own answer for DB..Why do I go hunting? I think that it is a basic instinct that from the beginning of time, to be a man, is to be a hunter and provider. Although time has changed and to hunt and provide now means to work hard and drive to the shop!! I personally still feel that basic instinct in my mind. I know that some people hunt for fun but I’d like to think that it goes a little deeper than that..For me pulling the trigger is not the ultimate moment of a successful hunt or stalk but the conclusion of it…The thrill is not in the kill, the thrill is in the chase, the approach, the pitting of your wits against a creature that has been in existence longer that man and that continue to survive despite mans impact on the land. A Monkey can be taught to pull a trigger..It is our responsibility as hunters to ensure the future safety of the natural flora and fauna of this land and the use of proper hunting methods can ensure that our grandchildren can enjoy the land that we love. I am a firm believer in hunting in the method the nature itself has shown us. Not to kill a creature because in our hands you hold the power of life or death, this does not make you a man, but only taking from nature what it can afford to spare and to use your quarry to its full potential (i.e. a game pie! Yummy) I love the countryside, driving through it, walking or hunting the land. I find a peace that so many people long for, self satisfaction. I would gladly go hunting for an entire day and go home happy without pulling the trigger once, as I know that I have spent one day engaged in a pursuit that I love.
That’s how I feel anyways….:)

cavan shooter

Firstly it has nothing got to do with the kill, I don't mind if I miss or see nothing (november 1st 2007 case in point) I love watching the dog work, the anticipation of is something going to be put out of the briars.

I love the walk, it's great excercise. I used to be a solitary hiker and I loved that too. There is nothing like stopping in a field three/four fields away from a road for a cup of tea (always bring a flask) and to stop and listen.

I love hunting because I can think, or I can think of nothing other than what the dog is doing.

yank_in_eire

Right on! The kill is totally secondary. It's the smell of wet leaves on a cool morning, hearing the first birds start singing in the dim morning light, the reflection of the sunset on the bay. These are the things that make great memories.

Double Barrel

Excellent take on the topic lads.

A little sent in the air, two setters working the edge of a rushy field, he was here, we move on. We approach an old stone wall and a patch of briars just to find scent, nothing more. But, the youngest dog thinks he's just found the grail with those scents that have just entered his nostrils. We move on again. Half knowing, there's no chance in hell, were going to find let alone get a shot this bird. But for now, that's alright, it's all for the chance of seeing one.
They are working their way towards the overgrown back ditch, closing fast, on what's left of the field. When out of the overgrowth, he appears. Almost, seeming to have done this using some sort of otherworld-powers. All the while, Mr. Rooster's taking flight, cupping his wings as much as he can. To create as much lift, as his wings will provide. Gaining elevation, as quickly, as he knows how. Something he has done many times, I assume. Completing this masterfully, thought out, escape plan. And, all of this is happening, with the added insult or contempt of him, cackling, laughing to beat the band all the way across the field.

The actual act of hunting, is one of those experiences that is utterly different from the outside than the inside as an active participant.
We enter into the world of nature not as a casual onlooker, but as an active participant. The hightened sense of awareness, sharpness of focus and depth of field, picking out the tiniest changes in our visual field or the muffled snap of a twig, at an almost inconceivable distance.
Hopefully exploited when the adrenaline flows, and instinct emerges at the flap of a wing or the rustle of a leaf.

LadyTBolt

This is such a romantic read. I need a tissue.

Double Barrel, you've just brought out the soppy side in all of these mucky welly wearing dudes.

Be real guys, ye forgot to mention, the taste of the venison fillet steak, the artistry of a well mounted pheasant, woodcock and gravy, rabbit stew, duck stirfry. C'mon men, the hunt is a big part but don't forget the end reward.

Double Barrel

I knew we were missing something, a woman's touch.
We need to keep our priorities in order as we are wandering off the path again. Oh hell.
Thanks for the reality check LadyTBolt.

Myth is the foundation of life; it is the timeless pattern, the religious formula to which life shapes itself…Whereas in the life of mankind the mythical represents an early and primitive stage, in the life of an individual it represents a late and mature one. -- Thomas Mann

Double Barrel

I dug up this old thread as this fine piece of writing captures the essence and is on the mark.

A Novelist Takes Aim

...on the charm of dogs, guns, shells and supper
By THOMAS MCGUANE

from The Wall Street Journal March 28 09

On a bright and cold October morning in Montana, my dogs Abby and Daisy, The Pointer Sisters, are in my closet helping me select my clothes. On the left end of the rack are everyday clothes; on the far right are coats and ties for the occasional urban jaunt; and in the middle, clothes for sport, especially hunting. Here sit the two girls, tails whisking the floor between the shoes. They moan, grumble and pant wishfully while my hand hovers over the coat hangers. I shouldn't do this as dogs don't enjoy being trifled with. They know where the thorn-proof pants hang, since the red suspenders dangle to eye level for them, but they watch my hand. I don't move; Abby turns to stare at my boots with such longing she must think they can scoop me up and take me into the hills. Finally, Daisy can't stand it and barks at me: I pull the hunting pants from their hanger and with a cry of triumph they scramble out of the closet to watch me dress. Let others withstand the elliptical trainer, the rowing machine and the NordicTrack. Mama wants two partridges for tonight's table and I will walk long miles hoping to get them.

Read on: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB123819949095362075.html