Roe deer hunting: Mario tells what for him is hunting in search of roe deer: adventure, emotions, memories and passion that are inherited and bequeathed.
It is a difficult hunt to tell, difficult to practice, difficult to teach and yet those who practice it receive feelings of pure fulfillment in return. It will be for the woods in which roe deer live, houses of fairies, trolls and goblins, it will be for the charm of this wild, it will be for the silence and tranquility that accompanies this practice. I don't even know when I learned hunting looking for roe deer: throughout Central Europe they call it Pirsch, but for my father it was simply hunting, the only one he knew, the most beautiful. I have followed him since I was a child and today I have my son followed me. I have always loved this aspect of hunting, it gives continuity and it is an excellent bond between father and son. The rules to follow, which my father literally instilled in me since I was a child, are at least three: to hunt roe deer you need to be silent like panthers, measured in your movements and have a prepared eye, able to notice any detail and any movement.
Nobody has these three innate gifts, in the woods you have to live there, you have to know them and only then do you feel at home, you move silently and nothing escapes; only then is there any chance of hunting roe deer in search. Immediately after, it is necessary to work on the knowledge of the wild and on the mastery of what will become the working tools.
I try to make it clear to my boyfriend, who has not yet fully understood the true essence of this hunt: damned youthful enthusiasm. To be a good roe deer hunter, patience and a cool head are essential: you need to spot the animal, be able to read it and very quickly understand if it is a male, a female, to which class it belongs and above all if it is. withdrawable. At that point you have to take a good position and shoot; all this in seconds if you want to be successful. When my son asks me how it is possible to do it, I reply that the only way to go is through training. On the other hand, making mistakes in this type of hunting is not a contemplated option.
I still remember one of my favorite hunting days: I was with my father, he took me to that forest for the first time and autumn seemed unusually sweet and pleasant. Before that I thought it was a dull season… now it's one of my favorites. Any wood during that time is an explosion of color and orange. That day there were birches, alders, maples and many other trees which contributed to the dreamlike atmosphere. The most important presence, however, was that of chestnuts: wild boars and everyone like them ungulates, but roe deer are literally crazy about it. Of course, when it comes to chestnuts, it is good to remember that once a certain time has been reached, they are able to attract not only ungulates but also gatherers, so every hunter must pay a lot of attention: in short, the forest is to be shared equally among everyone, hunters and not.
That day my father had chosen it certainly not by chance: it had rained a lot during the previous days and the foliage that covered the normally dry wood was now soft and silent, a point to our advantage. We had arrived early as my father used to do, but my enthusiasm to get right into the day was quickly dampened. My father made me sit at the foot of an alder and told me to wait that getting too early in the heart of the wood was certainly not an advantage: you risked not to notice (given the darkness) important details. Dad started the day only when the visibility was sufficient in his opinion. We had climbed the forest transversely, silent as two hares and after a half hour walk, among a beautiful raspberry bush, the first vision of the day: the backside stained with white of a fabulous roe. That boy was at least three years old: dad told me to get ready. I took off the backpack, setting my position when an even larger specimen appeared from behind the bush, a male with a stage to leave you speechless. Obviously I concentrated on him and the shot, thank God, was successful: shooting under the watchful eye of my father has always given me an indescribable sense of anxiety. It was ten o'clock, my father told me that we had to go down to declare our prey at the control center: I was certainly not happy about it, but over time you understand how important it is to carefully record the samples. They told us that the next prey was a class 0 roe deer, to maintain a certain balance. On the other hand, the hunting of the zero class is fundamental for a correct management of the population of roe deer in the area, but this is also a detail that I have understood over time.
I remember that we went up the wood with surprising speed: imagine my disappointment when I found the area occupied by a bevy of chestnut pickers. My father recommended another area to me; after another twenty minutes of walking we arrived at the designated location. As usual, when dad didn't know an area well, he used to follow some small stream: in this way, he said, the sound of our footsteps was covered by the water and the element of surprise was still maintained. He had seen it right: around noon, between a peckish and the other, we spotted one female, a puppy and not far away a class 0 puppy. That prey clearly belonged to my father who in a few seconds had identified, studied and captured that little roe deer.
The memory of that day continues to accompany me and from time to time I wonder if I will be able to be for my son the example that my father was for me.