I’ve been hunting for nearly a quarter century, and I’ve been blessed to spend a lot of time in hunt camps for work and in my personal life. By the time I started hunting in the early 2000s, female hunters had started to be less of a novelty than they once were. Fast forward to today and we’re downright commonplace. It’s no longer a situation of “Oh, hey, there’s a girl in camp!” and gun counter associates no longer ignore me when my husband and I are shopping together. I’ve really been fortunate to have experienced very little of that “hey little lady” misogyny stuff that women in previous generations did (although let’s face it, some of that still exists).
That said, hunting as a woman is just different. The hunting world is still set up for men, and while we’re welcomed into it, we’re mostly on our own when it comes to fitting in. And while virtually all the men with whom I’ve hunted have been well-meaning and helpful, bless their hearts, sometimes they just don’t get it.
Which brings me to my list of mostly minor pet peeves I’ve got as a woman in the woods.
1. When men who are a foot taller than me (which is most of them) outpace me because my short little legs can’t keep up with their stride. Have some compassion—I’m 5’ 4” and chubby; I’m hustling the best I can here!
2. Sharing a bathroom in hunting camp with men. Boys are gross, you guys, and their hygiene and cleanliness standards definitely do not improve when they’re in hunting camp. I’m not asking for much—I don’t even care if you leave the seat up, as long as I don’t have to don biohazard gloves to put it back down.
3. How expensive women’s hunting clothing is. I totally get why it is this way, and this isn’t a knock on the many excellent companies making women’s clothing (I’m thrilled they exist at all!). But sometimes I just want a pair of $20 camo jeans in which to traipse through the brush, and that’s often not an option in women’s sizes. I end up buying men’s clothing half the time because it’s more affordable and I can try it on in-store. But of course, that comes with a trade-off…
4. The way men’s hunting shirts have too much room in the biceps and not enough in the chest. That’s what I get for buying men’s shirts, I know!
5. Similarly, the way men’s hunting pants have too much room in the crotch and no room in the butt. For that matter, it’s hard to find women’s pants that fit well, too. There’s a reason we all try on a dozen pairs of jeans before we find one that fits our hips, butt, waist and rise—while men just grab a pair of 32x34s and call it close enough. Of course, hunting gear manufacturers just can’t afford to stock dozens of SKUs like women’s jeans brands can, so I get it.
5. The complete and total lack of warm, waterproof, thin-enough-to-operate-a-gun-with gloves that fit tiny hands. To keep my hands warm, I’ve resorted to wearing a thick, too-big glove on my left hand and keeping my right hand ungloved so I can operate my gun. Consequently, the right glove tends to get lost, and I have quite an impressive collection of orphaned left-handed gloves!
7. Guns never fit off the shelf. Some men have this problem, too, but it’s considerably worse for women. All the stocks are too long and many of the combs don’t have enough cast and/or height for women, so a good gunfitting is almost always required.
8. Hunting shampoo. This isn’t a pet peeve so much as a I’ll-never-do-that-again mistake I once made: As a newbie in deer camp, I washed my hair with hunter’s shampoo because I thought that’s what you do when you deer hunt. Well, maybe dirt-scented shampoo is no big deal for men and women with short hair, but if you have long hair that falls all over your pillow, it makes for a smelly and uncomfortable night’s sleep! Lesson learned.
9. Being patronized. Years ago I was in a duck blind in Mississippi with a bunch of men. We were having a great time; I has been duck hunting for years at this point and wasn’t a terrific shot, but I was holding my own and shooting pretty well. At one point, a group of gadwalls came in and several of us shot. I dropped my bird, and the guide standing next to me hollered, “I know who shot that duck!” and slapped me on the back with a grin like I’d accomplished some big feat. Man, I know I killed that duck. It’s not a big deal, so let’s not act like the girl hitting a duck deserves a ticker-tape parade. He was super sweet and he definitely meant well, but to be honest, I’d rather be treated like just another hunter. You don’t have to go out of your way to flatter me just because I’m a girl, and you definitely don’t have to act like my success is a surprise.
10. And the biggie: Not having a place to relieve myself. Oh, the places I’ve peed or desperately wanted to pee. I’ve squatted on a rock in the open ocean in full view of beach houses (hopefully empty in duck season). I’ve asked the men to turn around while I walked 40 yards behind the layout blinds in a wide-open field and peed in the open. I’ve very nervously descended out of a treestand mere yards from a pile of bear bait and peed as quickly as I could while looking over my shoulder. I’ve white-knuckled my way through many boat rides at the end of a hunt because unlike the men, I can’t just pee off the side of the boat or off the duck blind whenever I need to. And don’t get me started on the torture of trying to find a place to drop my waders and pee in the flooded timber. Forget about it!
