Hunting With Your Spouse: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Hunting couple is such a cute term for a serious game-slaying team.

While Pinterest’s vast array of hunting engagement images and camo-themed wedding ideas may suggest that “hunting couples” is a trending niche, men and women have worked collaboratively in their hunting endeavors for centuries.

In 1995, field researchers described how men and women of the African Ju/’hoan tribe often worked in pairs with the wife operating as tracker/hunt leader and the husband serving as slayer. In the Philippines, Agta women (who were skilled archers in their own right) used dogs to drive animals toward their waiting, weapon-wielding husbands. Royal couples such as Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip have been known to hunt together, as well.

Of course, modernization has demanded changes in hunting practices over time and across cultures; but I find it interesting that here in North America where hunting has been perceived as a predominantly masculine venture, women are now joining the ranks of hunters in droves and hunting couples are becoming commonplace. Or perhaps we are just returning to our primordial roots?

Even though most of us don’t really need to hunt with our significant other in order to fill the freezer these days, some of us simply like to.

My husband and I have hunted together since we were married because we realized early on that we don’t enjoy spending time apart. We are definitely each other’s favorite hunting buddy, but we still have our share of moments—good, bad, and ugly. Our moments in the mountains are no exception.

THE GOOD

Most, as in 99%, of our hunts are darn good. When I shoot an animal, there’s no one I’d rather have at my side to share in the joy than my husband. He’s my best friend, biggest cheerleader, finest pack mule, and only photographer. He can sense when I need to stop for snack before I get shaky.

Our hunts together usually feel like a date. There is seriously nothing more romantic, in my opinion, than hiking in under the stars and enjoying a radiant sunrise alongside your lover. The quiet ambience and surrounding beauty present delicious opportunities to hold hands or steal a kiss. And since hunting is generally a silent affair, one can unpretentiously relish in their beloved’s company during the quest for quarry. In any case, incessant conversation has never been a prerequisite for quality time and can still be accomplished on the ride home, if necessary.

At the end of the hunting day, whether we harvest game or not, our hunting “dates” are deemed successful by virtue of the fact that we’ve bagged another adventure as a couple, as well as memories and stories to share with our kids.

THE BAD

The tough part about hunting with your spouse is that opportunities to do so can be limited when babies come along and neither one of you wants to pack them, nor does either of you want to miss out on a hunt.

While my husband and I love our little ones to death and wouldn’t trade them for all the hunts in the world, there are times when I feel disappointed that my husband and I can’t hunt together because either the planned hunting area is not suitable for children, or no babysitter is available. In these cases, it’s usually more practical for me to stay home with them. When I do, I watch my phone maniacally for news from the hunting husband and dream of bringing the kids along on more hunts as they grow bigger; but most importantly, I try to cherish their littleness.

Another potential negative that can arise with some hunting couples is having to adapt to a different style of hunting. For those of us who grew up either hunting with a parent or developing our own skill set, hunting with a new partner can be a learning curve.

As an example, I was used to hunting with my laid-back dad and putting into practice what I absorbed from him. Then I met my type-A husband. Though we experienced a few frustrations in the adjusting process, let’s just say we now have an understanding. I also appreciate the fact that I’m lucky enough to have two great hunting men in my life—and there’s plenty I can learn from each of them.

THE UGLY

Hunting with one’s spouse is not a soap opera and it’s not for everyone. It’s not all romance and drama, and it doesn’t necessarily bring out the best or worst in a couple. But it does increase the likelihood that the normal amount of passion and perspiration that can accompany a hunt will be doubled.

Several years ago, my hunting season started out a little rough. I passed on a muley, then missed on a much bigger one. When I finally had another chance at a big buck, my gun misfired. As my confidence waned and I considered calling it a season, my husband kept me going.

With only a few days left in the season, we came upon a mature buck that was rather distracted by the deer ladies. While I set up for a shot, my husband ranged him at 280 yards. Shaking off a flashback of the recent misfire, I reminded myself that the gun in my hands was a different rifle and I squeezed the trigger. He went down instantly.

As we walked up to him, the sight of his beautiful set of antlers somehow triggered a leak in my eye. I don’t typically shed a bunch of tears over a shot animal, but this time I was a hot mess. All of the emotions—excitement, relief, the previous month’s disappointment—came spilling out.

We commenced with the field dressing and added sweat to the mix of blood, guts, tears, and hunting hair. Not the prettiest scene. But I really didn’t care, and neither did my husband. In fact, I think he was rather proud of me.

With nearly ten years under our collective hunting belts now, I’ve decided that hunting with the hubby simply makes sense. He is, after all, the person I love and trust the most. Two sets of eyes and a common goal don’t seem to hurt our odds of harvest, either.

Primeval hunting couples seem to have had the right idea. If British philosopher Robin G. Collingwood is also right, “The value of history, then, is that it teaches us what man has done and thus what man is”—a being with an inherent need to share the journey, the hunt, the good, the bad, the ugly with someone else . . . and that’s a beautiful thing.

 Leann Clarke and her husband share their adventures in the Rocky Mountain west.