It was the heart of the Pennsylvania rifle season for deer, the best time of the year for most hunters, the annual event that vacates offices and classrooms statewide for two weeks. Yet the parking lots at State Games Lands 42 near New Florence were empty.
There was a simple explanation: This was a Sunday, and Pennsylvania is one of 10 states that still prohibit hunting on Sundays.
Some hunters dislike this regulation and consider it to be a relic from theperiod when it was against “Blue Laws” for stores and businesses to be open on Sundays.Occasionally these hunters lobby for legislation that would end the restriction.
Other hunters, and increasing numbers of the general public, favor the Sunday hunting ban for a variety of reasons. Among them are that the Sunday ban encourages hunters to spend a day at home with their families while enabling non-hunting outdoor-enthusiasts to enjoy a day in the woods, free of concern that they’ll be confused for game.
Our state’s nearly 1.5 million acres of state game lands largely have been purchased and maintained through license fees paid by hunters and trappers. As a result, they deserve to be the primary users.
Secondary (non-hunting or -trapping) users can hike there any time. On Sundays and times of the year when hunting is not in season, the game lands also are open to horseback riding, bicycling and snowmobiling.
The Sunday banallowed me tocomfortably hike the game lands, during the heart of rifle season.
Crossing a small, arching wooden bridge over a tributary to Baldwin Creek, I set off through a landscape largely laid bare due to the disappearance of leafy vegetation. Tacked onto trees on the other side of the chatty little run were yellow “Posted” signs, closing that property to hunting and trespassing.
Fresher brown leaves lay atop the darker fallen foliage of earlier seasons, all crunching underneath my boots. Before long, I encountered another line of yellow signs directly in front of me, which read: “Posted – Hunting, Fishing or Trespassing for any purpose strictly forbidden.”Turned by the sign line, I traversed a ridgeline and went deeper into the game lands.
Something about being in the woods brings out the child in the adult: Encountering another bubbling run, I crossed it via a moss-covered log – not because I had to, but because I wanted to – and found that the moss improved my footing.
Emerging from the trees, I climbed a tall-grassed knoll, following paths made by hunters earlier in the week. Piles of deer scat, here and there along a mown way, showed this to be a popular hilltop for both hunter and hunted.
Looking 200 yards across the large meadow before me, I imagined an eight-point buck stepping from the far tree line. Slowly raising my arms, in an effort to avoid attention, I peered through the scope and squeezed the trigger …
Of course the imaginary deer had nothing to fear. I’m a lousy shot and was armed only with my arms. But such are the sights and thoughts of a solitary hiker on the state game lands in the middle of rifle season.
Returning along a service road back to my car, I spotted more of the seemingly ubiquitous “Posted” signs. Which got me to thinking:
While some hunters and trappers somewhat wrongly view the state game lands as “their” land that should be closed to all who lack licenses, I’ve been guilty of being unappreciative for what the fees from hunters and trappers have made possible.
Were it not for Pennsylvania Game Commission land purchases, bankrolled by license fees, much of that 1.5 million acres could be posted land, where all “trespassing for any purpose (is) strictly forbidden.”
Some Sunday, locate and enjoy a section of state game land near you. Then thank a hunter for making it possible.