European Hunting Culture vs. American Hunting Culture in a Nutshell

One of the benefits to large tech companies tracking everything you look at is that they’re able to see what you like and show you other things, things that you may not be aware of but might like as well.  Honestly, this is really the only benefit to tech companies tracking everything you look at.  Since I follow pretty much nothing but hunting pages, Instagram is always showing me other hunting pages and this has led me to follow a few European pages and it has been interesting to say the least.

Brantas Hunting Clothing is a company based in Poland.  I started following them because my wife is from Poland and I wanted to see how folks over there hunt.  Since it is a clothing company, most of their posts involve the clothing, which in and of itself tells us a lot about the differences in culture.  

In order to explain this, let us go back in time.

Before Europeans colonized what is now the United States, only the very rich in Europe were able to hunt.  If you owned the land, you owned the animals on that land, and pretty much all of Europe was owned by someone.  If it didn’t have an owner, then it was owned by the king.  If you were a peasant and you were hungry, or low on meat, too damn bad. The royalty and the landed gentry would go hunting in fine clothing, knowing they wouldn’t get dirty because their servants would do all the dirty work.  

When the lower class came to America, everything changed.  For one, there was far too much land and far too few landed gentry for them to control hunting in the same manner.  Also, many settlers, think Daniel Boone, often pushed deep into Indian country to do their hunting.  Many also chose to go settle new lands far beyond the reach of the European colonizers.  These early settlers lived off the land.  They hunted and they made clothes of what they had available, which was often the furs and skins of animals.  It turns out, they learned from the Indians, that this clothing was also incredibly practical.

As hunting evolved in America, it became a tradition for the rural lower class more so than the urban middle and upper classes.  I believe part of the anger towards hunters was born in the classism that has been rampant in our culture ever since the Industrial Revolution started growing our cities.  Hunters in America have held onto certain traditions and rituals that many urban folks see as “primitive” or “savage.”

Today, not much has changed.  Hunting in Europe is available to the commoner now, but it is incredibly cost prohibitive.  It might be legal to do, but the financial cost and draconian firearm laws keep most folks from being able to hunt.  Thanks to Theodore Roosevelt and his peers, animals in the United States are owned by the people, not the land owner.  Thanks to TR and his peers we have public land to go hunt on.  Any American in good legal standing can go hunt if he or she desires.  

I still find hunting in other parts of the world fascinating and it is interesting to me to see how folks in other places dress when they go hunting. That having been said, I love North America and I love the animals we have here.  While I hope to be able to hunt in other parts of the United States and Canada someday, I have no desire to go elsewhere.  My dreams are still of living like my great uncle Daniel Boone, roaming the woods and mountains for elk.  

Where It All Began & Where I Am Now

Since starting Mountain Climer, I have done my best to focus on spirituality and ethics, but those topics can bleed into a number of different areas. I have also tried not to make this all about me, though admittedly, these are my thoughts and opinions and I can only speak from my own experience.  But largely, I have tried to not make this blog self-centered.  

That’s going to change… a little bit.

I’m still going to keep focused on spirituality and ethics, however, I think I’d be remiss if I didn’t share my story.  Mountain Climer in and of itself represents a journey, but it’s also a part of my overall journey.


Where It All Began


I am an adult onset hunter.  I had interest in hunting, fishing and bush craft as a kid but I had no one to mentor me and show me the way.  I spent as much time as I could in the woods, even joining Boy Scouts when I was twelve and I enjoyed that for about a year before a new scoutmaster changed the direction of our troop from outdoors to indoors.  

I have always been a voracious reader, especially American history. When I roamed the woods with my BB gun and my dog, I pretended to be Daniel Boone or some other early American explorer.  I always dreamed of walking into the woods, building a crude shelter and living off of the land for a while.

Then, when I was in high school, I had gone on to other pursuits, including playing in bands.  However, there were two films that I saw during those years that really stuck with me and put a burning desire for the Rockies in my soul: A River Runs Through It and Jeremiah Johnson.

I really don’t remember how I came across A River Runs Through It, I believe it was when I was sixteen and working at Blockbuster and it just happened to be one of hundreds of movies I took home during the two stints I worked there.  The imagery and the story both captured my imagination.  Even now, twenty-two years or so later I can’t fully explain why it fascinated me so, but I longed of going to Montana and learning to fly fish and I have loved trout ever since.

The first time I saw Jeremiah Johnson though was unforgettable.  It was Christmas break of my sophomore year of high school, I was fifteen and there was a significant amount of snow on the ground for Indiana. I got into a fight with my dad, as teenage boys are known to do, and I decided to walk to my friends’ house across town.  At the time, especially in the snow, it seemed like a long trek, Google Maps now tell me it was 4.5 miles, but in the days before cell phones, I had no idea if my friends would even be home when I got there.  

About halfway to their house, I was cold and tired.  I decided to stop at this girl’s house that I knew from school. We weren’t particularly close, but we ran in the same circle and her house was convenient.  I rang her doorbell and her dad answered the door. He told me she wasn’t home, but he could see that I walked and invited me in to warm up.  He said he was just sitting down to watch Jeremiah Johnson and I was welcome to stay and watch it with him.  I told him I’d stay for a bit, but might not stay for the whole movie as I was anxious to get to my friends’ house.  

I stayed for the whole movie.

As has often been the case in my life, I wanted to go back in time and live in a different era.  I knew it was a hard life, but I wanted to test myself like those folks did.  I wanted to roam the Rockies in search of furs and meat and live off the hard land.  I knew one day, though I may not live off of it, I would live near the mountains and traipse through them with my rifle looking for meat and furs.  


Where I Am Today


I live in Colorado.  Over twenty years later and that’s as close as I’ve gotten.  I’ve hunted small game and I’ve hunted whitetails in Michigan, Indiana and Kentucky, but this coming year is my first year in the mountains. I’m still greatly handicapped by my lack of experience and my lack of funds.  I drive a Ford Focus and at this point, I have no idea when I am going to be able to afford a four-wheel drive vehicle so I am at the mercy of my friends when it comes to hunting in the mountains.  That’s okay, for now I’ll beg to tag along with folks or borrow a truck and someday, after we buy a house, I’ll buy a used four-wheel drive truck to get me up into the mountains.  Or more importantly, a truck to get me out of the mountains.

This life is a journey.  There are a lot of things I wish I was better at or farther along on, but I’ve made my own decisions and as Frank sang, “I did it my way.”  No excuses, no regrets.  

Most importantly, I’m excited for what’s next and what’s after that.