Dad wasn’t even 40 yet when he said, “I’m glad I didn’t get a deer today.” I was 13, and I didn’t understand why he said that. I failed to get a deer that day, and “disappointed” didn’t adequately describe how I felt. For me, getting a deer was a lifelong goal, my highest priority, a validating accomplishment. I didn’t just want a deer; I needed a deer to satisfy something within me.

Long ago someone identified the five stages a hunter goes through in his hunting career: (1) the shooter stage, (2) the limiting-out stage, (3) the trophy stage, (4) the method stage, and (5) the sportsman stage. I first read about these stages in the 1980s, in an article by Charlie Alsheimer in Deer & Deer Hunting magazine. These stages are based on social research into what satisfies a hunter. No doubt, what satisfies a hunter at age 15 (the year I shot my first deer) is not the same as what satisfies a hunter at age 65. The stages are valid, but are they a hard-and-fast rule?

Ever since I was 6 years old, I wanted to shoot a buck. Dad was far beyond me. Shooting a buck wasn’t his satisfaction. His focus came to be on me getting a buck. Is there a “stage” where that is the priority?

I spent many years in the “shooter” stage, but living in a state where the limit is one buck, I don’t think I’ve ever been in the “limiting-out” stage. We either get a buck, or we don’t. We have abundant antlerless tags, but filling every doe tag is not what satisfies many hunters.

The so-called “trophy stage” isn’t easy to identify, because the trophy is in the eye of the beholder. Shooting a nice, mature deer is always satisfying, but most hunters live where the odds of shooting a record-book trophy are low.

What about the “method stage”? My preferred method is still-hunting, the way my father and my uncles hunted before stand-hunting became popular. I prefer being on the ground, one-on-one with the deer. I want to be where the deer can see me — and to be skilled enough to see him first.

You probably have your preferred method for hunting deer. Most archers take to the trees in a strategic location. A few hunt from the ground. Is one method, in some sense, higher value than the other? Maybe, maybe not. In a few states, chasing deer with dogs is considered fair chase. Many hunters have killed deer during drives. Whether one method is superior to another depends partly on what “superior” means. Does superior mean a high-success rate? Does superior imply a degree of difficulty? We can debate these things, but we can never settle them.

Today, I’m at least partly in the “sportsman” stage. I understand that I play an important role in my state game agency’s efforts to manage all wildlife. But that’s not the only reason I hunt, and it’s a reason I’m seldom conscious of when I’m in the woods.

In a 50-year span of time, a hunter’s priorities change. Getting a deer is still the assumed goal of every hunter, but when something within him tells him he is hunting for more than a deer, he will be satisfied even if he doesn’t get a deer. In the end, it’s not his real goal.

How long will hunting still excite me? I don’t know, but when rifle season rolls around, when we have a few inches of snow on the ground (but not stacked on tree limbs), when the temperature is between 20 and 30 degrees, and when the air is calm, I’m eager to play the age-old game of predator and prey — and I’m almost certain I’ll get a buck. Many times, on days like that, my certainty has been fulfilled. And if I don’t get a buck, I go home dog-tired — but still satisfied.

I may hit a slump in my deer hunting, and if I do you’ll never find me singing “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction,” because I’m at the stage where I’m satisfied even if I don’t get a buck.

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When “The Everyday Hunter” isn’t hunting, he’s thinking about hunting, talking about hunting, dreaming about hunting, writing about hunting, or wishing he were hunting. If you want to tell Steve exactly where your favorite hunting spot is, contact him through his website, www.EverydayHunter.com. He writes for top outdoor magazines, and won the 2015, 2018, and 2023 national “Pinnacle Award” for outdoor writing.