It was ten minutes before the end of legal light and I was 20 feet up in a tree, overlooking the salt marshes of Assateague Island, when my phone lit up with a text from Rachel: “Sika.”

Immediately, the drumming of my heartbeat filled my ears and the whine of the mosquitos faded to the back of my consciousness. Rachel was seated in a tree some 60 yards from me, and I couldn’t pick out the inky shape that she had her eyes trained on. After what felt like an eternity of fruitless searching, I could barely see four dark legs slowly making their way through the myrtle bushes towards Rachel. I tracked the motion through the dense cover, hoping to pick up some sign that it wasn’t yet another of the small wild ponies that inhabit the island. Finally the animal stepped out, into a small clearing, and I saw its blackened silhouette, defined by its mane. 

I ranged the stag- just over 70 yards from me. It was right underneath her. I could see Rachel, frozen in place. She needed to make a move. We were running out of light.

If you’ve been in a similar situation with any big game, you'll understand that seconds feel like minutes, and minutes feel like hours. It felt like an eternity as the stag slowly, methodically moved along the marsh edge, seemingly in a direct line towards Rachel’s tree. 

It walked broadside right past her, the tree obscuring my view of the deer. I squinted to see what Rachel was doing- she didn't look like she was moving- but since I had last looked, she had shifted her angle, raised her bow. 

The stag took a few more steps, and as he stepped out from behind the tree, the setting sun cut a picture-perfect silhouette of the tiny elk. I heard the thudding release of the bow, then the arrow made contact and the stag bounded off into the marsh. He stopped at 20 yards, fell, got back up and fell over again. I heard splashing, then silence. 

The last few moments of light slipped away while we gathered ourselves up. I don't think I’ve ever been so shaky climbing out of a tree. It had gotten darker, and I’d lost sight of the stag hidden in the marsh grass. I dropped my gear and bolted over to Rachel, who was still frozen in her climbing stand. I paced over to where I thought I heard the last noise and caught sight of the stag, 25 yards from Rachel, half hidden by the waist-high cordgrass and incoming tide. 

Seven yards. That's how far away the stag was when Rachel shot it. She was still shaking as she climbed down the pine.

We dragged the stag a long ways to the truck and got it to the game check station, where the Refuge officer was waiting late for us. He’d gotten worried- we were the last ones to check out of the refuge for the day- but when we arrived, all he had to say was “That’s a nice stag, that's a really nice stag.”

After he helped us weigh and cut out the lower jaw for the refuge’s research, he let us stay after hours to butcher the sika on our tailgate. 

I think the only parts of that deer we didn’t take with us were the hooves and the stomach.

It was the most memorable hunt of the season for me. The roar of the Atlantic ocean crashing onto the beach, coupled with the bugling of rutted up marsh elk, is a combination you might not find anywhere else in the world. I can’t imagine anything better than watching Rachel wait for the perfect shot as the sun flamed out over the salt marsh.

We sent the hide off to be tanned, hung the antlers on the wall, and we’ve been hoarding all the meat and organs since.

We always try to maximize yield with any animal we kill- this sika was no different, but there’s a special kind of scarcity and value associated with such a new experience. Whenever we pull a package of Rachel’s sika deer from the freezer, we have special plans for it. These tacos, though a staple for tongue preparations, were coupled with our garden's first tomatoes of the summer, and we ended the meal by planning days to get back after them this fall.

This recipe is a general guideline- the core concept of cooking tongues is to braise them until tender, peel the outer membrane, then finish however you like. We seasoned them lightly after peeling and put them on the pellet grill for a little smoke and char.

Smoky Sika Tongue Tacos

Prep: 15 minutes

Cook time: 30 minutes

Ingredients:

1 sika tongue (any deer tongues will work, we save them all season and cook a handful at a time)

Stock or water

1 Bay leaf

Spices, your choice

Tortillas

Pico de gallo

Method

Rinse tongues. Place in a crock pot or dutch oven. Cover with water or stock, add a bay leaf. Cover and simmer for 4-6 hours until fork tender.

Remove from liquid, and allow to drain and cool enough to handle. Make a small incision lengthwise and peel back the outer membrane. If you hit a tough spot, use a knife of a peeler to knock off the membrane.

Preheat the grill to low heat and high smoke, and season the meat with your favorite spice blend. Smoke tongues for 20-30 minutes. Remove from grill, turn grill to high and open the diffuser. Allow to heat up. Finish the tongues over direct high heat for 1-2 minutes each side, just enough to apply a bit of char.

Remove from the grill, slice on the bias, cross grain, serve over warm tortillas with fresh pico de gallo.