V.W.H. Campbell Jr., Post-Gazette The ritual of pitting man against nature is almost as old as time itself. Click photo for larger image. Related stories Here: In Clearfield County / Hunting cabin holds more than 80 years of musty memories Deer hunting facts and figures Deer Season 2004: New access roads

Sitting quietly in the deer woods, you think a lot. One thing I have wondered about out there is this: as a deer hunter, am I just lucky to have grown up and lived in Western Pennsylvania? Or, did I become a deer hunter because this is my home? Either way, tomorrow is the day nearly a million other Pennsylvanians and I have awaited for 50 weeks. The state's two-week deer season opens at sunrise and continues through Dec. 11 (Sundays excluded).

Here, deer hunting is more than recreation. It's culture. Western Pennsylvania is still a place where a buck in a truck bed raises more admiration than revulsion, where schools close for opening day, and where orange coats in restaurants and even slung rifles along the roadway do not cause alarm. I imagine it must be a bland existence indeed to live in some other place where diner lights do not beckon: "Hunter's Breakfast, 4:00 a.m.," or where handmade signs don't announce "Deer Cut Here." When I go to my post office during the first two weeks of December, I know someone will ask, "Did you get your deer?" within a few phrases of their Merry Christmas wish.

Participation statistics on a regional level aren't readily available, but the argument can be made that the greatest concentration of large mammal (deer) hunters ever to inhabit any region on earth live in Western Pennsylvania. Deer hunting has sparked the anticipation of millworkers, miners, salesmen, teachers, students and clerks for generations.

Some people call it a sport, but that term sells deer hunting short. True sports are competitive, and pit one individual or team against another. Sports must have scores to gauge a winner, and are played in settings altered by man. None of those apply to hunting deer. In simplest terms, deer hunting is a break from routine. More importantly it is a chance to participate intimately in nature. At the core it is a shared bastion of resistance against a totally technological world.

I most enjoy hunting alone or with one or two family members or friends. But when I have participated in deer drives with larger groups, I have been reminded of anthropologists' theories that say it was hunting that made the human brain what it is, a marvelous source of improvisation, cooperation and creativity. Unlike true sports, no single human invented hunting. It may be more accurate to say that hunting invented us.

Deer hunting is a contradiction to the modern assumption that anything good must come quickly, with comfort and convenience. It is a reason to remember the virtues of quiet and patience, of close observation and practiced skill. Deer hunters know that, with preparation, cold weather will not hurt you, and that rain can be an ally.

It is my hope and my sense that hunting inspires consideration of the white-tailed deer itself. Our native deer is one of the most adaptable and successful large mammals to live anywhere at any time. It is so successful that it is changing the forests in which it lives, impacting agriculture across the continent and posing a concern on highways everywhere. Despite the calls of some for deer contraceptives, hunting is the only way to manage its numbers on a landscape scale. Fortunately, as it has always done, hunting also sustains wonder in the wild. Despite the problems its abundance presents, the whitetail remains a creature of stunning beauty and grace and I believe hunting promotes its most profound appreciation.

A deer hunt gives many people their best glimpse of our region's incredible diversity of other wildlife. No deer hunter neglects the chance to watch a squirrel forage nearby. None forget the gray fox they saw once, or maybe a bear. If not for hunting, some would not know the chickadee, titmouse or the inquisitive nuthatch. Some would never have seen an owl in the wild. The annual deer hunt is society's most widespread reminder that we would not have much wildlife without forests, wetlands, and mountain streams

When I think of deer hunting's essence and its relevance in modern times, I remember a morning on the crest of Chestnut Ridge. I killed a buck from atop a boulder and as I field-dressed the deer the woods turned from the somber brown of November to white in the season's first snow. There was no sound except the tick of snow against oak leaves, and a raven croaking and chuckling somewhere off on a snag. In the quiet white it felt, except for my orange coat and scoped rifle, as if the date could have been 1799 instead of 1999. I left the ridge with the buck, feeling that it is a good thing to experience a moment such as that, where the setting is something apart from any particular point in historical time. It is a perspective, I believe, of some deep worth.

So, tomorrow a million of us will go out and sit, stand or walk in the rain, snow and wind. We will feel stinging fingers, wind-burnt cheeks, and sore legs. Some, owing to skill or luck or dogged perseverance, will even bring home a deer. But all will have hunted, and around here that makes a very good day.