Well, American Huntress can no longer be the first hunting magazine for women. :( I found out yesterday, the Woman Hunter, which used to be an e-zine, was just published. But, I am still going forth with my idea and I am excited as ever! I think American Huntress still has its own special niche and this is not about to stop me! I have finished my proposal and am working on the publishing plan and prototype. May 8th is the day that I present it all to a publisher! Then we will find out where this whole thing may take me! :) Wish me luck!
I would also like to thank all the people that I have talked to. Everyone has been so wonderfully supportive and made this experience so remarkable, even if it happens to not work out. Thank you.
God bless the huntress!
Jennifer Schirm
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Premiere issue!
American Huntress
Premiere issue!
About Me
- American Huntress
- Winterset, Iowa, United States
- Hi everyone! My name is Jennifer, a graduate of Iowa State Univeristy with a degree in journalism and design. I created American Huntress because I am so passionate about hunting. I come from a family of dedicated bow hunters and love all the time we spend together practicing, scouting, deer hunting, shed hunting, turkey hunting, bow fishing and more! I would love your feedback on my magazine idea. It is my dream to make this magazine become reality. God Bless the Huntress!
Features in Issue:
-Spotlight: Gettin' Close's Tiffany Lakosky!
-History of the Huntress: A Story about Diana
-How to: Pull More Poundage
-Effectiveness of a Decoy
-Hunting with Children
-Huntress Numbers on the Rise
-Cavatelli Deer Recipe
-Hunting Misadventures with Brenda Valentine
-History of the Huntress: A Story about Diana
-How to: Pull More Poundage
-Effectiveness of a Decoy
-Hunting with Children
-Huntress Numbers on the Rise
-Cavatelli Deer Recipe
-Hunting Misadventures with Brenda Valentine
My Story
Archer
By Jennifer Schirm
It was my last chance of the 2007 season to get a deer. Never before had I hunted in the snow and low temperatures of Iowa’s late season. As someone who gets cold easily, winter presented a tough challenge, but I kept telling myself that it only takes one opportunity. Sitting in my dad’s stand on the edge of our timber off of the food plot, the sun was preparing to set and my opportunity was beginning to fade. And then, I saw him. A 170” class buck came charging behind two does out into the opposite side of the field. I didn’t even grab for my binoculars, I could tell how big he was. What amazed me the most was that the does were leading him right toward me. I thought, “This is it.” This is what your long, cold hours of patience and dedication have rewarded you. This is your payoff for passing a young buck early in the season. This is the moment you have been waiting for.
The first doe came over a small hump of land and ran right to the trail in front of me. If the buck kept following, I would have only a 15 yard shot. But then the other doe split off and started going up the hill right next to me and stopped at 25 yards. The buck stopped behind brush at 40 yards. I could tell he was trying to figure out where the does had gone since his view was blocked and the does split. Then the doe on the hill took off again, and instead of the buck following the path right in front of me, he followed the second doe away from me. My head hung and tears ran. My season was over and I knew how close, yet so far, all of my hours of sitting and bearing the weather had brought me. I named him, Heartbreaker.
The Beginning
I don’t remember when I pulled a bow back for the first time. Not because it was unimportant to me, but because I was too young to even remember. I had one of those small, red starter bows. The only thing on it was a piece of wire taped to the handle of my bow so that the arrow wouldn’t fall to the side. However, I do remember the first thing I killed with my bow. It was the back window of my dad’s work pickup.
It was getting late, but I begged him to let me shoot before heading in for the night. Even though it was starting to get dark, a pleading four-year old daddy’s girl must have been too much for him. He quickly set up a target on the edge of the driveway leaning against the garage. Old gray, the pickup, was to my left. I remember pulling back, but not how the arrow went so off course.
“Where did your arrow go?” Dad said.
“In the pickup,” I said.
“No, where did it go?” He said.
“In the pickup!”
Sure enough, dad looked in the pickup and there laid my arrow in the cab. Even though the back window never broke apart, it was shattered with a perfect pinhole in the middle. The next morning my dad explained to his boss what happened to the window.
“You’re never going to believe what happened,” Dad said.
He didn’t.
Family
Hunting has always been a huge part of my family. Hunting creates opportunities of family closeness through sharing hunting stories and celebrating successful hunts with jokes and memories that last a lifetime. Before Dad and my brother, Ryan, would head out to hunt, I would often kiss my dad’s number one arrow and wish them both good luck. Dad would always say, “I don’t need luck, just opportunity.” Ryan would always reply back with, “I’ll take the luck.”
My family spends so much time enjoying the outdoors, and when someone has a successful hunt, it is a family affair of photos and congratulations. It is not about the kill though. A successful harvest is a bonus of hard work. Just seeing a deer is rewarding as it brings jitters and takes your breath away. Hunting keeps us close as a family and out enjoying our land and the beauty of nature. I know I have grown up so lucky to have this kind of lifestyle. My dad never overlooked taking me hunting with him or teaching me how to shoot a bow. For that, I am so grateful. I know some outdoorsmen would never dream of leaving behind a son, but overlook a daughter. Instead, my dad and I would go together to local 3D archery shoots and he would be the proudest dad ever when I would outshoot other boys and bring home a trophy.
I believe everyone should be given an opportunity to enjoy the outdoors and tradition that hunting offers. While growing up, I did not have another women hunter to look up to, but women hunter numbers continue to rise. According to a new survey by the National Sporting Goods Association (NSGA), there are now over three million women hunters. Today, I gain support and share stories online with other women hunting fanatics from all over the U.S. This year, even my mom started deer hunting for the first time, and my nine-year old niece also shoots a bow. I can’t wait to take her hunting someday.
Being a Guide
One of my proudest hunts is actually not one of my own. Most boyfriends/husbands take their girlfriend/wife hunting with them, but not this time. I met my boyfriend, Matt, just before my second season of hunting. I had a successful first season of shooting a button buck, doe and turkey. Matt had bow hunted for about five years, but had never been able to harvest a deer.
I took him out hunting into the same stand where I shot my first deer. We were in separate stands only 20 yards apart and in the evening of our first day of hunting, three does came walking down the hill toward us. The first one was a good-sized doe following the path perfectly toward Matt. She kept walking, so I let out a “mahnt” and she stopped 20 yards, broadside for him. He shot her perfectly through the heart.
My First Buck
It was Nov. 11, 2006. My brother, Ryan, and I went to the same timber, but separate stands for an afternoon hunt. Dad dropped us off since his season was already finished. It was a hot day and when I got to my stand I immediately took off some layers of clothing. Being early in the afternoon, it was the last time that I expected to find an opportunity. Literally, minutes later a buck stepped out of the timber edge 20 yards away from me. He came onto the trail and followed down toward me. Then he actually came off the trail closer to me. I was afraid of pulling my bow back with him so close, so I waited for him to cross behind a big tree, so that I could pull back without him spotting any movement. As the buck stepped out, I pulled back, put the pin on him and shot. He took off back over the hill. Shaking, I sat down and called my dad.
“You did? I just dropped you off,” he said.
I shot my buck at only 7 yards after being in the stand for only 20 minutes. Ryan was still hunting so we waited until he was done. Then we grabbed the flashlights and went looking for him. We found him lying stiff on the ground still in a running position. I kept thinking he was running from me. It was such a powerful moment when I held his head up and knew I had successfully shot my first mature buck. Again, I had the proudest dad ever.
Not a day goes by that hunting is not a part of my life. Whether Matt and I are shooting our bows, scouting, watching our favorite hunting videos at my parent’s house or sharing stories with my brother, we can’t get enough of hunting and what it offers. Sometimes, when I have been sitting for hours in the cold rain or snow and not seen a single deer, I have to ask myself why I am doing this. I never have to answer because I agree with my dad; I know I only need one opportunity. Although, I think I’ll also take some of Ryan’s luck this fall because you can guarantee I’ll be waiting around for Heartbreaker.
By Jennifer Schirm
It was my last chance of the 2007 season to get a deer. Never before had I hunted in the snow and low temperatures of Iowa’s late season. As someone who gets cold easily, winter presented a tough challenge, but I kept telling myself that it only takes one opportunity. Sitting in my dad’s stand on the edge of our timber off of the food plot, the sun was preparing to set and my opportunity was beginning to fade. And then, I saw him. A 170” class buck came charging behind two does out into the opposite side of the field. I didn’t even grab for my binoculars, I could tell how big he was. What amazed me the most was that the does were leading him right toward me. I thought, “This is it.” This is what your long, cold hours of patience and dedication have rewarded you. This is your payoff for passing a young buck early in the season. This is the moment you have been waiting for.
The first doe came over a small hump of land and ran right to the trail in front of me. If the buck kept following, I would have only a 15 yard shot. But then the other doe split off and started going up the hill right next to me and stopped at 25 yards. The buck stopped behind brush at 40 yards. I could tell he was trying to figure out where the does had gone since his view was blocked and the does split. Then the doe on the hill took off again, and instead of the buck following the path right in front of me, he followed the second doe away from me. My head hung and tears ran. My season was over and I knew how close, yet so far, all of my hours of sitting and bearing the weather had brought me. I named him, Heartbreaker.
The Beginning
I don’t remember when I pulled a bow back for the first time. Not because it was unimportant to me, but because I was too young to even remember. I had one of those small, red starter bows. The only thing on it was a piece of wire taped to the handle of my bow so that the arrow wouldn’t fall to the side. However, I do remember the first thing I killed with my bow. It was the back window of my dad’s work pickup.
It was getting late, but I begged him to let me shoot before heading in for the night. Even though it was starting to get dark, a pleading four-year old daddy’s girl must have been too much for him. He quickly set up a target on the edge of the driveway leaning against the garage. Old gray, the pickup, was to my left. I remember pulling back, but not how the arrow went so off course.
“Where did your arrow go?” Dad said.
“In the pickup,” I said.
“No, where did it go?” He said.
“In the pickup!”
Sure enough, dad looked in the pickup and there laid my arrow in the cab. Even though the back window never broke apart, it was shattered with a perfect pinhole in the middle. The next morning my dad explained to his boss what happened to the window.
“You’re never going to believe what happened,” Dad said.
He didn’t.
Family
Hunting has always been a huge part of my family. Hunting creates opportunities of family closeness through sharing hunting stories and celebrating successful hunts with jokes and memories that last a lifetime. Before Dad and my brother, Ryan, would head out to hunt, I would often kiss my dad’s number one arrow and wish them both good luck. Dad would always say, “I don’t need luck, just opportunity.” Ryan would always reply back with, “I’ll take the luck.”
My family spends so much time enjoying the outdoors, and when someone has a successful hunt, it is a family affair of photos and congratulations. It is not about the kill though. A successful harvest is a bonus of hard work. Just seeing a deer is rewarding as it brings jitters and takes your breath away. Hunting keeps us close as a family and out enjoying our land and the beauty of nature. I know I have grown up so lucky to have this kind of lifestyle. My dad never overlooked taking me hunting with him or teaching me how to shoot a bow. For that, I am so grateful. I know some outdoorsmen would never dream of leaving behind a son, but overlook a daughter. Instead, my dad and I would go together to local 3D archery shoots and he would be the proudest dad ever when I would outshoot other boys and bring home a trophy.
I believe everyone should be given an opportunity to enjoy the outdoors and tradition that hunting offers. While growing up, I did not have another women hunter to look up to, but women hunter numbers continue to rise. According to a new survey by the National Sporting Goods Association (NSGA), there are now over three million women hunters. Today, I gain support and share stories online with other women hunting fanatics from all over the U.S. This year, even my mom started deer hunting for the first time, and my nine-year old niece also shoots a bow. I can’t wait to take her hunting someday.
Being a Guide
One of my proudest hunts is actually not one of my own. Most boyfriends/husbands take their girlfriend/wife hunting with them, but not this time. I met my boyfriend, Matt, just before my second season of hunting. I had a successful first season of shooting a button buck, doe and turkey. Matt had bow hunted for about five years, but had never been able to harvest a deer.
I took him out hunting into the same stand where I shot my first deer. We were in separate stands only 20 yards apart and in the evening of our first day of hunting, three does came walking down the hill toward us. The first one was a good-sized doe following the path perfectly toward Matt. She kept walking, so I let out a “mahnt” and she stopped 20 yards, broadside for him. He shot her perfectly through the heart.
My First Buck
It was Nov. 11, 2006. My brother, Ryan, and I went to the same timber, but separate stands for an afternoon hunt. Dad dropped us off since his season was already finished. It was a hot day and when I got to my stand I immediately took off some layers of clothing. Being early in the afternoon, it was the last time that I expected to find an opportunity. Literally, minutes later a buck stepped out of the timber edge 20 yards away from me. He came onto the trail and followed down toward me. Then he actually came off the trail closer to me. I was afraid of pulling my bow back with him so close, so I waited for him to cross behind a big tree, so that I could pull back without him spotting any movement. As the buck stepped out, I pulled back, put the pin on him and shot. He took off back over the hill. Shaking, I sat down and called my dad.
“You did? I just dropped you off,” he said.
I shot my buck at only 7 yards after being in the stand for only 20 minutes. Ryan was still hunting so we waited until he was done. Then we grabbed the flashlights and went looking for him. We found him lying stiff on the ground still in a running position. I kept thinking he was running from me. It was such a powerful moment when I held his head up and knew I had successfully shot my first mature buck. Again, I had the proudest dad ever.
Not a day goes by that hunting is not a part of my life. Whether Matt and I are shooting our bows, scouting, watching our favorite hunting videos at my parent’s house or sharing stories with my brother, we can’t get enough of hunting and what it offers. Sometimes, when I have been sitting for hours in the cold rain or snow and not seen a single deer, I have to ask myself why I am doing this. I never have to answer because I agree with my dad; I know I only need one opportunity. Although, I think I’ll also take some of Ryan’s luck this fall because you can guarantee I’ll be waiting around for Heartbreaker.
1 comment:
I think that American Huntress is a great idea! I would love a copy of your magazine! Please let me know any info on subscriptions or what you decide to do. I am from Alabama, so I can get you some help in this area with the hunting ladies. But great job!
just message me any info : myspace.com/colbs10
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