Don't let media hysteria get in the way of common sense - and good hunting.

A LITTLE OVER a year ago, our hunting world was jarred with the news that chronic wasting disease (CWD) had spread east of the Mississippi River. Until that time, CWD was someone else's problem. Then it became ours. And that raises questions.

What have we learned over the past year? Will CWD eventually spread to all deer and elk? Will hunting be changed? Are media accounts of people's getting terminal brain diseases from venison true? Here are the factual answers to your CWD questions.

Can we die from eating infected venison?

Here's the heart of the CWD issue. The first scare about eating venison arose when 130 people died from Mad Cow Disease after eating infected beef. As you may know, Mad Cow Disease is a brain spongiform disease, similar to CWD. So some folks reasoned: If you can get one brain spongiform disease by eating beef, you might get another brain spongiform disease by eating venison.

Scare number two came with crazy publicity on a Wisconsin case in which three hunters who ate venison every spring at a hunting camp dinner died from Creutzfeldt Jakob Disease (CJD), a brain spongiform disease similar to CWD. The press jumped on this big time, and soon hunters all over the country assumed that these hunters had died from eating infected venison.

Not true. After much publicity, studies showed that the obvious wasn't so obvious. Only one of the three hunters died from CJD, and this sad occurrence doesn't lead to the conclusion that eating venison caused the CJD. No scientific data connect CJD with venison.

But some reporters still try. In early April a report came from Washington State that three hunters there had died of CJD. Reading about this case, you'd conclude without doubt that eating venison caused a brain disease. Consider this opening sentence from a Wisconsin newspaper article on the Washington story: "In an eerie similarity to a Wisconsin case, doctors in Washington State have identified three more deer and elk hunters who contracted a rare brain disease." The spin was that this was another "cluster" of CJD, as was supposedly found in Wisconsin. However, two of the hunters lived in the same town and hunted together, but the third lived in Alaska.

Was it happenstance that two hunters from the same town got CJD? Probably. And jumping to the conclusion that CJD was contracted from venison is a real stretch. Consider that over 40 percent of all Americans have eaten venison at one time or another. Thus, a high percentage of CJD cases could be linked to eating venison - or getting traffic tickets, or watching television, or living west of the Mississippi, or a myriad of other things.

But other numbers are far more defining. In Colorado this year, more than 26,000 deer and elk were checked for CWD, and 273 tested positive. Since another 40,000 to 50,000 deer and elk were harvested and not checked, it could be assumed that hunters killed about 800 CWD-positive animals in Colorado. And they and their families ate most of these animals. And that's just one year. When you consider that CWD was discovered in Colorado in 1967, you can reasonably conclude that hunters have eaten many thousands of CWD-positive deer and elk.

The scenario is similar in Wyoming, where CWD dates back to the early 1970s. And undoubtedly hunters have eaten CWD-infected animals in Nebraska, Wisconsin, and maybe Illinois. No data prove how many CWD-positive animals have been consumed, but from the above we could easily conclude the number is close to 10,000. Yet, as far as anyone knows, not one person one has contracted CWD. Not one. An average of 64 people die every year from E. coli bacteria contracted from romaine lettuce. Wonder why we don't see a media frenzy over that.

The bottom line is that your chances of contracting CWD from eating infected venison are remote to nonexistent.

Is there a vaccine that will prevent passage of CWD to humans?

At the March 2003 meeting of the American Academy of Neurology, researchers unveiled a study on immunization against CJD. Their work is aimed at giving an oral vaccine to people who might be exposed to any prion-based disease. Such a vaccine is a long way off, but apparently it is coming.

In my state, biologists sampled 350 deer and all were negative. Does this mean CWD does not exist here?

Not necessarily. Early on, Wisconsin biologists determined that if only 1 percent of the deer had CWD, they would have to sample 500 deer per county to have a 95 percent chance of testing a CWD-positive deer. Population density and size of the county play a role, but, in general, data show that very large samples (thousands) are needed to determine whether CWD is present. In 2002, many states tested fewer than 1,000 deer. That's a good start, but it holds no guarantees.

Can CWD be eradicated?

Officials in Wisconsin used the term "eradication zone" to depict a 419-square-mile area where CWD was found. However, deer could never be totally eradicated in that area. Numbers of deer, and thus prevalence of CWD, can be reduced greatly. But eradication? Not likely, especially in a state like Wisconsin with high deer numbers and great habitat. Only time will tell whether Wisconsin's herd reduction approach will work.

In Colorado, deer densities are much lower, and CWD is found in localized pockets. The approach there is to hammer the deer in these local pockets. Where deer densities are smaller, this approach may well slow the spread of CWD. That's the hope.

Is CWD spreading?

Yes, apparently it is. CWD has now been found in northern Illinois, New Mexico, and Utah (one deer). Wyoming just released data showing that CWD has spread to 23 of the state's 152 deer units, but all of the positive units are clustered in the southeastern corner of the state where CWD has been found for years. Unless CWD-positive animal is moved from a game ranch into a new area, CWD appears to spread slowly. At least, that what data from Wyoming and Wisconsin show.

It does appear, however, that CWD could eventually spread to deer and elk all over the country. That would take many years, however, and by the time it does, the hysteria will have passed and hunters will carry on as usual. The scare in Wisconsin caused 2002 license sales to decline by 11 percent. But in Colorado, where CWD has been recognized for more than 30 years, license sales were up by 30,000. Hunters there have lived with the disease and no longer react to it.

Does baiting help spread CWD?

That's a big, unanswered question. Most researchers feel that CWD is spread by direct contact, and anything that brings deer together may well help spread CWD. Just as lowering deer numbers reduces direct contact, so does elimination of baiting. No data specifically relate CWD and baiting, but in the January issue of the Journal of Wildlife Diseases, researchers reported that supplemental feeding in northeastern Michigan was associated with bovine tuberculosis in wild deer. Does that prove that baiting might spread CWD? No. But states are now taking a harder look at baiting. Right now the Wisconsin DNR wants to stop baiting because of CWD, while other factions want to continue baiting in CWD-negative areas.

If healthy deer are penned with a CWD-positive deer, what happens?

Other deer will get the disease. They may not all get it, but slowly the disease will spread within that pen.

How did CWD pop up within the White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico?

Good question. There are no game ranches in the area, and apparently no deer were ever stocked here. So how did a CWD-positive mule deer get behind the fences of the missile range?

No one seems to have a clue. The nearest wild CWD animal was 300 miles away. Or was it? Last fall several deer shot just outside the missile range fence tested positive for CWD. Other deer in the area are now being tested. But the question remains, how did this little pocket of deer get CWD in the first place?

Early reports from Colorado and Wisconsin show that more bucks than does test positive for CWD. Why?

I asked Val Geist, noted deer behaviorist from Calgary, why this would be. His answer was that bucks taste the urine of does in heat. Val believes that bucks thus become carriers. He also believes that does play a bigger role in the transmission of CWD.

Knowing all the above, what should I, as a hunter, do?

First, wear rubber gloves when handling deer and elk, and bone out all meat. These precautions may be unnecessary, but they can't hurt until more is known about CWD. Second, accept the fact that lowering deer numbers (probably by taking more does) is a good thing. It not only makes habitat stronger ecologically, but it yields an overall healthier deer herd. Third, financially support CWD research. The more we know about CWD, the better the future of hunting. Fourth, support the temporary ban on moving deer and elk from state to state. In the future this might not be needed, but for now it's a reasonable safeguard. Finally, relax and go hunting. There can be little doubt that in 2002, fears about CWD caused some hunters to stay out of the woods. The antis love CWD. Don't give them the satisfaction. Go hunting.