On August 6th 2017 I embarked on a journey to the Sierra Nevada mountains of California, with the intention to reconnect with the natural world and detox/detach from my digitally drowned world. Essentially my intention was to reconnect with the earth by doing a digital detox and taking my body and mind off-grid. After promising myself to put my fear of bugs behind me, and to embrace nature to its fullest, I got off the bus, popped on my 65L hiking bag, and alongside my group, hiked over 25 KM uphill to our destination at whopping 8000 ft altitude (no my ears did not pop off as I was worried they would).

The day before the hike, we spent close to 3 hours discussing the trails, how to best pack our bags, and tips for the camp and hike itself. We packed our food portions in one bear can each, filling them with our sustenance for the next week. I remember thinking while packing our cans, "is this really all we are going to have to eat for the next week?", "is this really the average amount of food I usually eat every week?"

Once we reached our final camping destination, Kenedy Lake, we set up camp and began deligating essentials for the following 4 days. The water team, cooking squad and fishing crew, were among a few to name. I was part of the water crew for the first day, followed by the fishing crew, and I occasionally helped with the cooking and preparation of the food.

So, you're probably wondering, what did they eat for a week in the middle of nowhere? I had similar thoughts during the days leading up to the trip. Rest assured, these meals were far from gourmet five-star restaurant-style dining, however, they were honestly so delicious! Most of our meals were preserved by dehydration or canning. We carried with us small propane stoves, a few pots, a cutting board and utility knives. Each of us campers was assigned misc. cooking tools to help with our outdoor feasts.

Day 1
Breakfast: Whole Grain bagel, Fluffy cream cheese, smoked salmon, olives, scrambled eggs)
Lunch: Grass-fed roast beef and turkey sandwich on whole-grain pita
Snacks: Nuts! Dried mango
Dinner: (at the campsite) bear burrito bowl (dehydrated camping food)

Day 2
Breakfast: Oatmeal, honey and peanut butter + banana
Lunch: Chicken Tacos and avocado
Dinner: dehydrated campers stew

Eyes swollen with tears, belly full of trout, and smiles filled with gratitude: after my raw and empowering experience of fishing.

Day 3
Breakfast: Oatmeal, honey and peanut butter
Lunch: veggie wraps and tuna
Dinner: dehydrated hummus, and bean soup.
Dinner 2.0: Fresh caught wild trout.

Day 4
Breakfast: Oatmeal, honey and peanut butter
Lunch: Annie's organic macaroni and cheese
Dinner: Dehydrated Southwestern bean stew.
Dinner 2.0: Fresh caught wild trout

Day 5
Breakfast: Oatmeal, honey and peanut butter
Lunch: Grass-fed roast beef and turkey sandwich on whole-grain pita
Dinner: Catered Curry and Rice

I drank close to a total of 25L of water over the course of the 5 days, drinking close to 6L on days we hiked. Needless to say, using the bathroom in the forest is not the most fun, but we learned the proper etiquette around it, I got used to it after a while. What goes in must come out…

***

On the final days of the trip, our food was dwindling and the option of fishing became a necessary one. Fish can be a great source of protein, omega-3 fatty acids and essential minerals, key for any hungry camper, and let me tell you, we were hungry! I became aware of my surroundings as an abundant and fertile space full of nourishment and sustenance. I could take a deep breath in and feel secure knowing that food was out there and that we would be okay. The skills that are required for hunting, fishing, agriculture and foraging are deeply embedded in our DNA and psyche, and it was during this camping trip that these senses reawakened and I became aware of them.

The fish: This was my first time fishing and I enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would. I did not enjoy getting stuck in the marsh or mud on the way to the river, but it all added up to the experience of what would unlock a whole new world for me (cue Alladin’s “A whole new world”). It was a very raw experience (literally) gutting and cleaning the fish post-catch, and I cried from how real the experience was. I love seafood, and on average I would say I eat fish at least once a week at home, but holding this flailing creature in my palms tightly gripping as I could see it gasp for its final breaths of air (but really water) was beyond any words I could use to describe. I did not feel barbaric, or carnivorous, I knew the fish was discomforted a good deal, but, all that moments before I took a Swiss tool to its core, I felt the cycle of life transcend to the next phase.

We were taught how to kill the fish by the camp mentor in the least painful/quickest fashion and prayed over it for blessing and gratitude, as we prepared it for cooking. We wrapped our freshly caught wild trout in a sheet of aluminum, sprinkled some salt, and pepper and drizzled a generous amount of olive oil on it before sealing the wrap and tossing it into the flames. It crackled and sizzled and 10 long minutes later as we watched the fire animate our dinner, our fish was ready. The aluminum wrap created a vacuum so the hot air around the fish could cook it evenly - it was flaky, moist and fresh to the bone. I had never tasted a fresher fish (say that ten times fast!)

As we took turns passing the fish around the campfire for each person to take a few bites, there were about ten campers, I began to think about this fish I was holding and how similar it felt compared to hours before when I was knee-deep in the marsh casting my line into the water. I thought about that moment that the fish hooked the bait and that spark of fear/excitement/anticipation and true hunger I felt. I stopped and thought about how milliseconds after the knife penetrated this fish’s body, it began to twitch and I felt it come to a rest as I began to remove its insides. Gross, right? Nope. I say intimate.

I have heard hunters and fishers speak of a shift. One that transforms their perception of the animal once the kill was done, a shift from animal to food. It was on this trip, around this fire, surrounded by fellow campers at Kennedy lake that I experienced this shift and it left a deep impression in my mind and heart.

Laying in the tent later that night with a tummy full of fresh trout, I began to reflect on the other animals’ lives that I had interacted with by eating them, perhaps even unintentionally or unconsciously. This left me disturbed and seeking a more meaningful relationship with the foods I consume, especially animals. It was at this moment that I decided to create a litmus test for this intention and assume a greater dietary agency for my life from that point onwards. Connecting to our food in this way is a real challenge in our age of industrial animal agriculture flooding our urban centers, and I knew this intention was simple in nature, but far from easy.

It was here that I set my intention to go hunting; I told myself, “if I am not able to follow through with the hunt from field to fork, I should really reconsider my meat consumption in total.”

***

Blood and guts aside, I think that my first experience of killing a living creature and eating it taught me more about life and food than any book or video could. The lesson, Gratitude.

I grew an immediate appreciation for life and eating from life to sustain life. For us omnivores, it is imperative that we first and foremost acknowledge and appreciate our meats for what they are - life. This paradigm shift will remain etched in my memory and it is something I feel immensely blessed and grateful to have experienced first hand. I am thankful to God for this earth and land that is full, fertile and abundant with provision.

Food from this moment onwards was savoured differently for me as I still ponder on the fish swimming in the river moments before it caught my bait and would experience a change in phase on its new journey to my plate.

Thank you, Flailing fish.

Hunting Stories I: What the flopping fish taught me.

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