A few years ago, a friend of mine who studies socio-economics—or the how and why people do the things they do—invited 20 or so moose hunters to meet with his team of researchers and discuss what it means to hunt moose.

It seems a simple enough concept — as a hunter, you should give your quarry a fair chance to escape being taken. In other words, no excessive measures should be used to entrap or otherwise reduce a game animal's chance of detecting and escaping you. Talk to a room full of hunters and chances are they will all agree with such a general statement. After all, "fair chase" is touted as an important element of hunting ethics and a key to continued public acceptance of hunting. Yet, talk to that same room of hunters about how fair chase is applied to specific types of hunting, and chances are you'll get considerable disagreement.

Fall is in the air, and my den is strewn with camping equipment in various stages of readiness. Why? The moose rut is about to begin.

The question is sometimes asked when I'm making a presentation about wildlife or the outdoors to school classes, youth groups, or even adults. I've told a story about a hunting experience or how wildlife agencies use hunting as a management tool. I notice some surprised looks and head shaking in the audience, and then a brave soul finally asks, "Why do you hunt?”

The question is sometimes asked when I'm making a presentation about wildlife or the outdoors to school classes, youth groups, or even adults. I've told a story about a hunting experience or how wildlife agencies use hunting as a management tool. I notice some surprised looks and head shaking in the audience, and then a brave soul finally asks, "Why do you hunt?”

The question is sometimes asked when I'm making a presentation about wildlife or the outdoors to school classes, youth groups, or even adults. I've told a story about a hunting experience or how wildlife agencies use hunting as a management tool. I notice some surprised looks and head shaking in the audience, and then a brave soul finally asks, "Why do you hunt?”

We've all experienced it — that sudden rush of blood as the pulse quickens in anticipation of a coming hunt. We can't help it, whether we're a youth just starting out, or an old pro who's seen it all. It's something built into our physiology that probably dates back to when one of our ancestors first picked up a rock to get something different on the menu.