AGAIN COMETH THE SUN

Sitting next to the picture window of our cottage, I feel the late winter sun burning through.  In anticipation, I peek outside looking for grass, but see only snow and mud.  Spring isn’t quite ready to show herself and I feel like I was refused a dance with “lady spring”.   My thoughts wander.

It seems long ago that I left behind the cutting, hauling, splitting, stacking and burning of firewood. These days, when the sun burns brighter, I soak in its rays and dream about the next season.   I can’t seem to keep myself from wondering, “How might the dog and I do better?”  “Where will we go to connect with wild birds?”   The weather has ‘softened’ enough that we walk a bit to build up my legs and lungs.   Ever vulnerable at my desk, I offer small fortunes to bird dog magazine publishers while daydreams of ‘perfect’ fall days surround me like a sparkling aura!
 

And the advertisements!!  Decades ago, all that we needed was a good fall day, an old shotgun, a few shells, and a compass.  We’d quickly wrap up our chores and sneak out into the back acreage to where we flushed a covey of pa’tridge last summer.  The high-tech guys usually included a map and perhaps a jack-knife in their pocket. 

Today, we need special boots, a ‘device for this’ and a ‘device for that’.  (Even our dogs use a GPS!)  Our shotguns need to be pieces of art—so we can brag about them in the pub—and we carry enough shells for an all-out fire-fight with a flight of woodcock.  We have first aid kits for our dogs that are larger than the first aid kits for ourselves.  Heaven forbid that our brush pants should be worn at the cuff!   

It seems that today, a well--outfitted bird hunter carries almost as much gear as a Navy SEAL.

Now, if you’re in your prime, weight may not matter to you, and an eight-to-ten mile walk with all the gear is “normal”.  You’re working the percentages--more miles, more possibilities.  Legs kill birds.  I get it.  

However, at my age, many more hunters are looking for “less”.  Less distance walked with a focus on “habitat quality”.  Less “weight”, less “stuff”!  A light shotgun with light loads works well in the grouse woods.  Admittedly, a light GPS is a wise choice to use with the compass.  

No longer do we carry a whole box of shells.  If things are so good that we run out of ammo, then we have the makings of a really great story—which fills our memories and lights our gatherings longer than another bird or two in the bag.  The water bottle is about half the size that it used to be.  Refills are back at the truck.  Instead of a separate dog bottle, we share.  Boots are evaluated with weight as ‘prime criteria’.  We’ve been out enough to know how to judge weather, and we know that one handkerchief and a carefully selected (light-weight) jacket will give us everything needed until we get back to the truck.    Matches and a knife are still important—however lightweight synthetic handles and smaller blades are a “necessity”.  Bowie knives are “out” and lightweight cordura sheaths have become my favorite.  

It’s kind of like listening to some really good ‘blues’… Less is more.

Still, despite the desire to reduce “weight”, (and in the light of “technology”) folks of my sort need to be practical—especially if we’re still “getting off the beaten trail”.  I used to tell my wife, “If I am found face down in the woods, just know I was having a good time.”   She never appreciated that sentiment, so I recently followed the course of some of my “brothers” in our local NAVHDA chapter and purchased a (lightweight) satellite GPS locator unit.  Between April and December, I’m often where there is no phone service, and if I get in trouble, the satellite messenger/emergency locator provides a few good options.  

Mark you, my ‘intention’ is to never press the satellite ‘SOS’ button, but I’ve lived long enough to know that having intentions is like having stomach gas.   The key to happiness is being in control.