Safe, Supervised, Successful: The Case for 12- and 13-Year-Old Deer Hunters in Erie County

By Forrest Fisher

In recent years, youth firearms hunting in New York has become a point of debate often framed through broader national conversations about firearms policy. But mentored youth big game hunting is not a political abstraction. In New York State, it is a tightly regulated, data-driven conservation program designed to teach young people responsibility, patience, ethics, and safety under the close supervision of experienced adults.

Since 2021, New York State has authorized a pilot program through the NYSDEC, allowing licensed 12- and 13-year-olds to hunt deer with a rifle, shotgun, muzzleloader, or crossbow while under the immediate supervision of a qualified adult mentor. Counties must opt into the program by passing a local law before youth hunters may participate during established big game seasons in areas where firearms are already permitted. Youth hunters in nearby Chautauqua County are approved; those in Erie County are not. Erie County is only one of two of the 63 New York State counties (Erie and Rockland) not opting in, citing safety concerns as the basis for opting out. Most of us have similar concerns immediately after opening our most recent electric bill.

Participation comes with strict safety requirements. Youth hunters must be escorted by a parent, guardian, or experienced adult mentor aged 21 or older who has at least three years of deer hunting experience and holds a valid big game license. The supervising adult must maintain physical control of the youth hunter at all times, and both the mentor and youth must wear the required fluorescent orange or pink clothing visible from all directions. Additionally, youth participants in this program are authorized to harvest deer only; black bear hunting is not included.

In 2023, state legislation via NYSDEC extended this pilot program through 2025. Erie County still opted out. The additional two years provided more time to gather data and assess safety outcomes. That data now speaks clearly. Between 2021 and 2025, mentored youth hunters aged 12 and 13 participated in more than 63,000 permitted hunts across the participating counties in New York. According to official DEC reports, there were zero hunting-related shooting incidents, zero injuries, and zero violations involving this age group through that time. Quite a remarkable tribute to the young hunters and their mentors.

For supporters of the program, the safety record demonstrates what many in the hunting and conservation community already understand: when properly supervised and trained, young hunters are capable of participating safely in deer hunting. They often bring a level of attentiveness and discipline that reflects the seriousness of the responsibility entrusted to them.

Despite statewide authorization, participation in the pilot program ultimately remains a local county decision. Today, Erie County and Rockland County are the only counties in New York that have not adopted local laws allowing 12- and 13-year-olds to hunt deer with firearms under immediate adult mentorship.

After reviewing the updated DEC safety data from the past five years, Erie County Legislator Frank Todaro has renewed efforts to align the county with the NYSDEC statewide pilot program. A similar measure passed by the Erie County Legislature in 2021 was vetoed by County Executive Mark Poloncarz, who cited concerns about the inherent risks of firearms use by youth. However, the absence of incidents across tens of thousands of supervised hunts has prompted calls from conservationists, sportsmen’s organizations, and families in Erie County urging the County Executive to revisit the issue in light of empirical evidence. Data provides history and accuracy; it cannot lie.

New York (and Erie County) already permits 14- and 15-year-olds to hunt deer and bear with firearms under adult supervision, provided they complete a Hunter Education course, purchase the appropriate license, and wear required safety colors. Meanwhile, youth aged 12 to 15 may hunt deer and bear with a bow during the bowhunting seasons after completing both Hunter and Bowhunter Education courses, even from elevated stands, where permitted.

Mentored firearms hunting for 12- and 13-year-olds represents a measured extension of opportunities that already exist for slightly older youth, but with additional supervision requirements in place. Beyond the regulatory framework lies a broader question: what role does hunting play in the development of young people today?

For many families across New York, hunting is not merely a recreational activity but a tradition rooted in stewardship of the land, respect for wildlife, and self-reliance. Success in the deer woods demands patience, preparation, and emotional maturity. Young hunters must learn to handle equipment responsibly, follow safety protocols, understand animal behavior, and make ethical decisions in real time.

These are not abstract lessons. They are skills built through mentorship, often across generations, and reinforced by the shared understanding that participation in hunting carries both privilege and responsibility.

For members of Generation Z, who increasingly seek meaningful connections with nature in a digital world, mentored hunting offers an opportunity to engage directly with the environment, develop confidence through hands-on learning, and experience the discipline required to achieve success in a challenging pursuit. Time spent in the field teaches focus in an age of distraction, resilience in the face of unpredictability, and humility among elements beyond human control.

Hunting also plays a critical role in wildlife management and conservation funding in New York. License fees and excise taxes on hunting equipment support habitat restoration, research, and public land access, ensuring that future generations inherit healthy ecosystems and sustainable wildlife populations.

As Erie County leaders revisit the mentored youth hunting program, they do so with access to five years of safety data demonstrating that supervised participation by 12- and 13-year-olds has not resulted in a single reported incident. Think about that. What an amazing testimony to the safety and success of this program. To support them, click here to send a letter to the legislators in Erie County: https://takeaction.io/nyscc/support-erie-county-allowing-12-13-year-olds-to-hunt-under-authorized-supervision/. The pilot program was designed to test whether young hunters could safely engage in deer hunting under close adult guidance. So far, the results suggest they can!

Gotta Love the Outdoors.

In state capitols across the country, lawmakers have taken an unusual step to safeguard a longstanding American tradition: they’ve written the right to hunt, fish, and trap directly into their constitutions. What was once simply assumed as part of rural life is now, in 26 states, a formally protected right. But not yet in New York.

It may sound tongue-in-cheek, but in roughly half the country, the right to hunt, fish, and trap is no joke. That includes Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Indiana, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, North Carolina, North Dakota, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming — have adopted constitutional amendments protecting these traditions.

The constitutional amendments generally affirm that hunting, fishing, and trapping are valued public rights and recognized tools of wildlife management, while still preserving the state’s authority to regulate seasons, methods, and safety. Supporters say the goal is straightforward: ensure that decisions about wildlife remain rooted in science and professional management, not shifting political tides.

So why have sportsmen across the country pushed for this? For starters, they see it as playing defense. In recent decades, ballot initiatives and legislative efforts in some states have restricted certain hunting practices or proposed broader bans. By elevating hunting and fishing to constitutional status, supporters aim to ensure that these activities can’t be eliminated by a simple majority vote in a future legislature. Changing a constitution is possible, of course, but it requires a much higher bar and broader consensus.

There’s also a conservation angle that often gets overlooked. Under the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation, wildlife is managed using science, funded largely by hunters and anglers themselves. License sales, along with federal excise taxes on firearms, ammunition, archery equipment, and fishing gear, generate billions of dollars for habitat restoration, species recovery, and public access. In many states, sportsmen are the financial backbone of conservation programs that benefit everything from songbirds to wetlands. According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, in New York State alone, sporting license data show hundreds of thousands of individuals purchase fishing and hunting licenses annually (with fishing license holders typically exceeding 900,000 and hunting license holders in the 500,000–600,000 range). Statewide economic analyses highlight that hunting and fishing contribute an estimated $5 billion to New York’s economy each year, not only through licenses but via travel, gear, lodging, and other local expenditures – with a sizeable portion of that supporting state environmental and conservation programs.

Supporters argue that protecting the right to hunt and fish helps secure that funding stream for future generations. Fewer hunters and anglers mean fewer dollars for conservation. In that sense, a constitutional amendment isn’t just about tradition; it’s about maintaining a proven system that has helped restore wild turkey, white-tailed deer, wood ducks, and countless other species from historic lows.

So why don’t all 50 states have such amendments? In some places, lawmakers and voters feel existing laws already provide sufficient protection. In others, the cultural landscape is more urban, and hunting and trapping play a smaller role in daily life. Some critics worry that constitutional language could limit future policy options or complicate animal welfare debates.

In New York, where outdoor recreation is both a pastime and an economic engine, the conversation carries particular weight. From the trout streams of the Catskills to the whitetail woods of the Southern Tier and the waterfowl marshes along Lake Erie and Lake Ontario, hunting and fishing are woven into the state’s identity. They support local businesses, sustain rural communities, and connect families to land and water in ways that can’t be replicated by a smartphone app.

Advocates here argue that a constitutional amendment would not create a free-for-all. State agencies would retain authority to set seasons, enforce safety rules, and protect endangered species. The goal, they say, is balance: recognize these activities as a valued public right while affirming that responsible regulation remains essential. Multiple conservation organizations from Western New York support this amendment effort.

At its heart, this debate isn’t just about deer tags or duck blinds. It’s about whether hunting, fishing, and trapping are seen as temporary privileges or enduring parts of our shared heritage.

New York has long prided itself on leading in conservation, from establishing the Adirondack Park to investing in public lands. Adding constitutional protection for the right to hunt and fish would signal that the Empire State sees sportsmen not as relics of the past, but as partners in stewarding for the future.

After all, if we trust science to manage our forests and waters, and if we trust citizens to follow the rules, maybe there’s room in the constitution for a little common sense — and perhaps, metaphorically speaking, a pair of muddy boots by the door.

Gotta Love the Outdoors.

The 2026 NY Musky Expo, held January 31–February 1 at the Chautauqua Harbor Hotel in Celoron, wasn’t just another winter fishing show. Sure, it had wall-to-wall musky baits, boats, electronics, nets, Lakewood tackle boxes, Simms rain gear, and enough big-fish gear to make any seasoned angler’s heart race. But the real stars of the weekend? They were about four feet tall, armed with crayons, and absolutely determined to win a coloring contest.

If you were 12 years old or younger, the place to be was Kids Corner.

Kids Corner wasn’t a drop-off zone or an afterthought — it was a hands-on launchpad into the world of fishing. Young anglers learned how to make their own fishing lure, colored posters for a chance to win prizes, and every single one walked away with a free musky lure of their own. For a kid, that’s basically treasure.

Todd and Lauri of Leopardi Leo Lure Company ran the coloring contest, and let’s just say the competition was fierce. The focus and intensity at those coloring tables rivaled any musky angler waiting for a strike. Future designers? Possibly. Future diehard anglers? Almost guaranteed.

But the fun didn’t stop there.

The musky show scavenger hunt sent kids exploring the expo floor, where they discovered one of the most memorable stops of the weekend: the NYSDEC fisheries team. Biologists and technicians brought along an aquarium filled with live musky fingerlings — tiny versions of the apex predator that rules Chautauqua Lake.

Kids leaned in close, eyes wide, as they listened to how these baby muskies came to be and learned something powerful: the very fish they were staring at would be released into Chautauqua Lake the next day.

That moment connected the dots. Fishing isn’t just about catching the biggest fish in the lake. It’s about conservation, stewardship, and understanding the life cycle of the species that make places like Chautauqua Lake special.

On Sunday, that lesson became unforgettable.

NYSDEC staff and show chairperson Katia Rivers drilled a hole through the 10-inch-thick ice to release the fingerlings into the lake. Kids who had attended on Saturday reportedly begged their parents to come back just to witness the release. (And if you’ve ever tried to convince a kid to willingly return to a winter event instead of staying home, you know that’s saying something.)

Watching those baby muskies slip into their future home wasn’t just cute — it was meaningful. Those kids now have a personal connection to Chautauqua Lake. Years from now, when they cast a line into those waters, they might just wonder if the fish on the end of it was once the tiny fingerling they watched swim away.

Meanwhile, the show delivered plenty for adult anglers, too. Sunday Funday featured a buzzworthy special from Zach Baker of Baker Musky Lures, offering $25 musky baits — a rare deal in a world where handcrafted hard baits can push $100. For musky enthusiasts, that was like spotting a 50-incher in clear water.

With free admission for the kids and discounts for retired and active veterans and first responders, the event made it easy for families to attend. And that matters.

Events like the NY Musky Expo do more than sell gear. They spark curiosity. They introduce kids to the outdoors in a way that feels exciting, accessible, and fun. In an age of screens and schedules, handing a child a fishing lure and letting them learn about the biggest freshwater fish in their own backyard is powerful stuff.

For Chautauqua County, the expo warmed up a winter weekend, bringing anglers indoors, supporting local tourism, and reminding visitors why this lake, this community, and this fishery are worth celebrating.

Gotta Love the Outdoors.

Just like former Bills Coach Sean McDermott, my dad taught me that life and learning to do things right is a process. You don’t master it all at once; you learn it knot by knot, campfire by campfire, and mistake by mistake. That’s how many of us learned the outdoors, long before “outdoor skills” came in plastic packages or instructional videos.

I was lucky. My parents believed in the outdoor life because it wasn’t a hobby—it was survival. My dad was a World War II veteran. Both of my parents lived through the Great Depression. Waste was a sin, fixing things was normal, and learning to do it yourself wasn’t optional.

We farmed. We grew our food. We canned the harvest. We raised chickens. If something broke, you repaired it or went without. That mindset followed us into the woods and onto the water.

Fishing meant learning knots before you ever touched the water. We cast level-wind Bronson reels spooled with 30-pound Dacron, that’s the only “good line” they sold back then. There was no monofilament yet. Leader line was called catgut. Our tackle boxes held hooks, sinkers, bobbers, and live bait—no fancy lures unless you were wealthy, and we weren’t. Most tackle shops didn’t carry much anyway, which saved us from temptation.

Archery was no different. My dad bought a 54-pound Bear recurve bow and told me I’d “grow into it.” I was eight years old. He was right. By 10, I was taking rabbits and pheasants—though I could only draw the bow about 10 or 12 inches. That was enough from fifteen feet if you learned stalking, patience, and camouflage. My camo? Charcoal from last night’s campfire. Cheap. Effective. Washable.

Camping didn’t mean week-long vacations. We did one-night trips. Short, simple, and just uncomfortable enough to teach you what mattered. Fire. Shelter. Food. Staying dry. Paying attention. Those trips taught my sister and me that if we ever had to survive outdoors, we could.

We made our own sinkers. We tied flies. We built arrows using real chicken feathers—because that’s what we had. Looking back, we didn’t know we were learning resilience. We just thought we were having fun.

Of course, we weren’t saints. If I forgot to cut the grass, my dad’s patience disappeared faster than a bobber under a hungry bass. Responsibility came with the territory. I was the oldest. First kids always learn the hard way. My younger brother had it easier—but he learned the same lessons.

We played baseball in the summer, but games were on weeknights. Weekends were for fishing, hunting, and being outside. Sundays? That was another “no” back then. Funny how times change—kids play year-round now, often indoors, often glued to screens.

And that’s the challenge today.

Kids haven’t changed. Curiosity hasn’t changed. Adventure hasn’t changed. What’s changed is time. In many families, both parents work. Free weekends are rare. Distractions are everywhere, and the outdoors has competition it never had before.

That’s why conservation clubs matter more now than ever.

They provide structure. They provide mentors. They turn “someday” into scheduled youth fishing days, archery clinics, camping weekends, and hunter education courses. They offer kids something priceless: focused time with adults who care and know how to pass along skills safely and responsibly.

Supporting these clubs doesn’t always mean writing a big check. It can mean volunteering an afternoon. Donating equipment. Sponsoring a youth event. Helping fund an annual calendar so families can plan ahead. Even showing up matters—kids notice when adults invest time.

The process still works. Teach one knot. Build one fire. Spend one night under the stars. Confidence grows from there.

We didn’t have much money growing up, but we were rich in lessons. Tough lessons. Useful lessons. The kind that stay with you long after the Kool-Aid is gone and the Ovaltine jokes wear thin.

If we want today’s kids to discover the adventure, responsibility, and joy of the outdoors, we need to meet them where they are—and give them a path forward. That path starts with all of us, one youth event at a time.

Gotta love the outdoors.

The Life of my Incredible Friend, Russ Johnson

Russ was born in Buffalo during the Great Depression, a time that forged a generation marked by ingenuity, patience, and self-reliance. As Buffalo grew between World War I and World War II, Russ grew alongside it—learning life not only in classrooms, but on the banks of the Niagara River. As a boy, he learned to fish there, catching blue pike in the powerful currents, developing an early respect for water, wildlife, and the quiet discipline required to succeed outdoors. That discipline stayed with him for the rest of his life.

From a young age, Russ showed an extraordinary aptitude for electronics. He built crystal radios and ham radio transmitters when most kids were still figuring out how things worked. He didn’t just want devices to function—he wanted to understand why they worked. That curiosity matured into a career that placed him at the center of some of the most important technological efforts of the 20th century.

Russ became a highly respected electronic technician at Bell Aerospace, where he worked during the early days of the American rocket industry. There, he collaborated with Werner von Braun and other pioneers whose work laid the foundation for modern space exploration. Russ was never one to talk himself up, but those who knew his work understood his value. He brought calm logic, careful data collection, and practical problem-solving to complex systems where failure was not an option. Later, at Moog, Inc., his reputation only grew. When engineering teams hit a wall, Russ was often the one who quietly solved the problem—definitively and without drama.

That same inventive mind followed him into the outdoors. Russ was a life member of the East Aurora Fish and Game Club, a dedicated deer and pheasant hunter, and an accomplished dog trainer. He approached hunting and fishing the same way he approached engineering: observe carefully, collect data, and respect the system you are working within.

Among his many innovations was what is believed to be the first electronic crow call. Russ didn’t just mimic sound—he studied crows, learned their language, and figured out how to communicate with them. He could call them in at will, not as a trick, but as the result of patient observation and understanding. He also invented an underwater temperature probe capable of detecting light penetration, allowing identification of thermoclines and mineral layers—tools far ahead of their time and deeply useful to serious anglers.

Lake Erie was one of Russ’s favorite classrooms. He loved trolling for walleye and smallmouth bass, especially with artificial lures he modified himself to dive deeper, emit underwater sound, and produce a wobble that fish found irresistible. He believed fishing was never random—it was patterned, timed, and knowable…if you paid attention.

One of his favorite sayings became legendary among those who fished with him: “They start (hitting) at 22 minutes after sundown.” Remarkably, it was often true. Evening after evening at Waverly Shoal, the bite would turn on right on schedule, as if the fish themselves were keeping Russ’s clock.

Waverly Shoal was special to us in another way too. We loved fishing it in the early mornings before work. The routine was simple and relentless: up at 3:00 a.m., launch the boat in the dark, troll Hot-N-Tots for an hour, and be back on shore by 6:00 a.m.—often with a limit of walleye—just in time to head off to work by 7. We did that twice a week through mid-summer for years. It was hard work, great fishing, and time spent with a best friend doing what we loved.

Russ also believed deeply in service. He was a Merchant Marine during WWII and member of the VFW. He volunteered there, providing taxi services for fellow military veterans who needed help getting to appointments or events. As always, he did it quietly, without recognition, because it was the right thing to do.

His greatest legacy, however, was with kids. He and his wife, Marianne, had three kids, all girls, and he loved them dearly. He was so pleased that they grew up with families and grandkids. He loved the family gatherings. For about the last 25 years in summer, Russ devoted some of his time to teaching young people how to fish through “Teach-Me-To-Fish” events at East Aurora Fish and Game, Bison City Fish and Game, Tifft Nature Preserve, and other places in Western New York. He had a gentle way about him—especially when teaching kids how to tie fishing knots. Knots that held. That simple success built confidence, and kids kept coming back to learn more. Through fishing, Russ taught patience, problem-solving, and respect for the outdoors.

Russ never raised his voice. He never argued. He was unfailingly logical, kind, and calm. Even at 96 years old, he had unending energy and a curiosity about life that never faded. He learned to eat healthy—favoring fish, fruits, vegetables, and steam cooking. His favorite meal was fittingly simple and perfect: poached or baked Lake Erie walleye.

For more than 50 years, Russ Johnson was one of my best friends. Last week, he departed for that happy hunting ground in the sky. He’ll be raising walleyes at 22 minutes after sunset to show St. Peter before the rainstorm. Even at the ripe old age of 96, his passing is deeply felt. Russ lived a life defined by positivity, invention, generosity, and a quiet commitment to sharing knowledge with others—especially kids. His legacy lives on in every knot tied, every lure modified, every young angler inspired, and every problem solved with patience, data, and grace. His conversations between us will be missed, always.

Fair winds and following seas, old friend!

Your buddy,

Dave Barus, AKA Forrest Fisher