There’s a massive gap between buying meat and being part of where it comes from. I’ve known that in theory for most of my life, but the reality is that for 25 years, my “theory” was mostly about the mechanics of the hunt and the pragmatism of filling the freezer.
Then Erin started asking questions.
She didn’t grow up with a rifle or a bow, but she brought a different kind of intensity to the table: a refusal to eat “manufactured” meat. Her choice to step away from the industrial food system forced me to look at the animals I’ve been harvesting for decades through a new lens. It stopped being just about the skill of the shot and started being about the responsibility of the fuel.
The Shift from Pragmatic to Personal
For a long time, I viewed hunting as a way to get outside and secure a clean food source. It was simple. But Erin’s curiosity has a way of stripping back the layers of habit.
When you spend hours processing an animal together, the conversation shifts. It’s not just about which knife holds an edge or how to wrap a roast—it’s about acknowledging that this animal lived a wild life in the Koocanusa, free from the mystery feed and the crowded pens of the industrial system.
Suddenly, the “work” of processing isn’t just a chore to get through; it’s the most honest part of the day. You find yourself paying attention to the grain of the muscle and the quality of the fat with a different kind of reverence. You waste less—not because you’re trying to hit a sustainability goal, but because you’ve seen the cost of that food and you’ve felt the weight of it in your hands.
The Student Teaching the Teacher
It’s a funny thing to have 25 years of experience and realize you’re still a student. Erin is learning the mechanics of the hunt from me, but she’s teaching me about the “Otherwise”—the ethics of consumption and the energy of the food we put in our bodies.
She’s changed my view on how the majority of meat is made. I’ve gone from being a hunter who fills his freezer to someone who deeply understands that every meal is a stand against a broken system.
The Honest Way Forward
We’re still in the early, messy stages of this shared journey. There is nothing polished about our process yet. We’re still figuring out the best cuts for the slow cooker and the best ways to honor the animal from field to plate. There’s a lot of trial and error, a few sore backs, and a lot of late nights in the kitchen.
But there’s an undeniable honesty in it. We aren’t looking away anymore. We’re choosing the responsibility, the grease on our hands, and the connection that comes with knowing exactly what we’re eating. Once you’ve experienced that kind of reality, the grocery store aisle just feels like a hollow substitute.
