Tyler Kivland grips the bow, brings the arrow up just below eye level and lets it fly. The arrow buries itself deep in the earth a few dozen yards away.
This is just a practice shot after almost five hours spent in his tree climber, waiting for prey that might never come. He hasn’t caught sight of a single deer, but Kivland says it’s still been a good day.
In almost four years of bow hunting, he has killed only two deer.
For Kivland, it’s not just about the kill. It’s the quiet. It’s the challenge. It’s the constant quest for knowledge.
Today he calls it quits early. Usually he camps in either his climber or his tree stand for as long as 13 hours, depending on the conditions and how he’s feeling. On this particular day it is too warm and too windy for the deer’s sensitive noses.
He’s been hunting for almost 48 hours in the last week, so he can let one day go.
* * *
Bowhunting is a science, and Kivland taught himself everything he knows, but he never stops learning.
He reads Field & Stream religiously. He researches online. He goes out, and he practices.
From October until early January, he hunts several times per week, weather and schedule permitting.
“I could probably have an undergrad in deer study,” Kivland says. “Every time I go out into the woods, I learn something from it.”
Bow hunting is not an easy sport, which may be the reason less than 2 percent of Americans participate, according to a 2011 estimate by the Archery Trade Association.
Kivland started out hunting with a gun, but he doesn’t regret the switch. He got tired of having guns pointed at him by other hunters. He didn’t trust himself with such a dangerous weapon.
“Bottom line is, I’m not gonna kill myself if I drop my bow,” Kivland says.
He pays a price. Reaching his ultimate goal of filling his freezer is significantly harder. The last deer he killed was a doe a few weeks ago. Before that there was a button buck, a young buck with nubs where its antlers would have developed, on his birthday last year.
The doe yielded 42 pounds of meat, which Kivland shared with his family and friends.
When successful, the reward is huge, but it’s tough to come by.
He’s more than willing to take the chance.
“You can’t win the lottery if you don’t punch the ticket,” he says. “And if you’re not out in the woods, you can’t get the meat.”
* * *
Kivland’s wife, Alanna, grew up in a hunting family, but he did not. He started hunting to bond with Alanna’s parents and brother. Alanna gets bummed out when he is gone during hunting season, but he said she understands. If he can afford to come home early to spend time with her, he does. The cozy Bloomington home they share with their dog, Cash, has a room dedicated to all of Kivland’s instruments. He has an assortment of guitars and an upright bass, among others. Though he doesn’t play any of them particularly well, he frequently loans pieces of his collection to other musicians. His musical hobby is secondary to his nature passion.
When he’s not up in a tree, Kivland works as the assistant programs coordinator for IU Outdoor Adventures. Hunting might be his obsession, but Outdoor Adventures is his priority.
“What I revolve my life around is being successful at OA,” he says. “I love teaching. For any way I can combine the outdoors and teacher, I’ll do anything.”
* * *
Kivland’s routine is committed to memory, but he can’t risk skipping a single step. It will throw off the entire process and hurt his chances of seeing a deer.
He wakes up in the wee hours of the morning and leaves for his secluded hunting spot in Brown County. He wants to be up a tree an hour before the sun rises.
Getting a head start is very important, but it hasn’t helped him much so far.
“The saying ‘the early bird catches the worm’ is bullshit,” he says.
The 45-minute drive takes him on a winding road, tough to navigate for anyone who doesn’t already know where they’re going.
He arrives at a field near the woods, turning on the light strapped to his forehead as he hops out of the car so he can see his gear in the dark. He pulls on layers of warm clothing before zipping up his camouflage jacket, wriggling into his green camouflage pants and donning his camouflage gloves and boots.
The exception is his hat, bright orange to alert other hunters of his presence and prevent getting ticketed by a conservation officer.
He’s bathed with Scent-A-Way soap and washed all his clothing in Scent-Lok detergent. As an added precaution, he sprays it all down again with Scent-Lok spray.
A deer’s nose is its most powerful weapon. The ears are a close second. Once up in the tree, Kivland can’t even sniffle. It could give him away.
Once he’s dressed to kill, he shoulders his bow and his tree climber and sets off along the path in the pitch black, crunching leaves underfoot as he takes slow and careful steps to make as little noise as possible. He might not be able to see a deer, but he knows one could be listening.
He eventually reaches a spot near a ravine that parts the sea of trees. On one of the sturdier oaks, there is a ladder leading up to a small tree stand.
Kivland is particularly fond of the stand, but sometimes he’ll use the climber, which allows him a wider range of motion and an array of trees to choose from.
He works his way up the tree, secures his harness and gets comfortable.
He knows he’ll be there a while. He can use his smartphone to check his email, and he can catch up on the news with online updates. Sometimes he’ll read a book. He’s learned to turn the pages quietly. Most of the time, he reflects. As hectic as life can be, it’s nice for him to have an outlet.
“I’ve gotten a lot of issues solved out here in these trees,” he says.
When he returns home, he’ll analyze the day’s hunt and do everything he can to figure out why he didn’t see any deer. Their patterns are always changing, and though it’s impossible, he does his best to keep up.
He’ll research weather reports and compare the conditions, he’ll check his Time2Hunt and other hunting apps on his phone and he’ll pore over the websites.
He’s obsessed with perfecting his technique and maximizing his odds against the game.
The next chance he gets, he’ll go out and do it all over again.
