Optimism Required

The duck season closed Sunday and the pheasant and quail seasons close today. It hasn't been a banner season in this area for either one. Our pheasant and quail numbers were down due to last summer's extreme heat and drought. And while record numbers of ducks were forecast, the drought reduced the amount of water in this area, and we never saw any build of up of ducks. Oh well, the weather was mild, and I enjoyed my time in the field with dogs and friends. My hunting partners and I are already talking about next year. If we get just a little more moisture in the next few months and we can avoid severe storms in May and June -- just maybe our bird numbers will rebound. I've been around long enough to see pheasant and quail make amazing recoveries when conditions were right for nesting and brood-rearing. There's hope. And we still have spring turkey season to look forward to. I don't hunt turkeys nearly as hard as I used to, but one or two mornings in the woods will carry me over until dove season.

Optimism and hope are necessary for hunters. Every year is different, and so much of what dictates the quality of our seasons is out of our control. You have to have optimism. I was reminded of that this past Saturday. A friend and I decided to hunt, even though we hadn't seen many ducks lately and our waterhole was getting very low. We hoped the warm temperatures had kept the water open, and we hoped we see a few ducks on our last hunt of the season. However, hope waned when we arrived to find ice covering the pond and the water lower than expected. We broke ice and placed a few decoys anyway. After an hour or so, we sort of gave up and decided ducks weren't in the cards. Guns were out of reach and we were idly chatting when about 25 wigeon and mallards coasted in over the decoys. No shots were fired, and we cussed our lack of attention causing a missed opportunity.  Only a couple more birds were seen, and we each took a mallard drake, but we laughed about what could have been if we hadn't lost optimism.

We'll get 'em next year.

The Greatest Hunting Mentors

I've written a lot lately about mentors because I think they're important to our hunting heritage, and I think they too often go unnoticed. However, I failed to mention a group of individuals who are undoubtedly our greatest hunting mentors: hunter education instructors. Teaching a class in a Hunter Education Course may not fit your definition of mentoring, but when you look closely at the dedicated individuals who teach, you'll see it differently. And for many, calling them dedicated is inadequate. There is a core group within this collection who spend countless hours and weekends conducting classes. They don't do it for the money because there isn't any, and they don't look for recognition. They do it for the kids. And most take it a step further and introduce  youngsters to hunting when they aren't teaching. These instructors teach the curriculum, following the student manual, but they also communicate their passion for hunting, and that's really what mentoring is about. If it's been years since you took a hunter education class, you should take another one. Better yet, find a youngster who has an interest and enroll with them. The new alternative delivery that combines at-home internet study with a field day of shooting, gun handling and trail walks is not only educational, but students have a blast. And it's truly  gratifying to see these remarkable instructors at work.

Reluctant Mentors?

This winter I read a newspaper editorial about the writer's frustration with the department's Special Hunts Program. The program is designed to provide high-quality opportunities to hunters by limiting the number of hunters in an area on a given day through a lottery draw process. Our public lands managers realize that not everyone has exclusive access to private land and that some hunters avoid open public land because of hunting pressure. By going through the application process, hunters can draw opportunities for a variety of hunts, including waterfowl, upland birds, and deer. There are also hunts that cater to youth and novice hunters -- part of the department's hunter recruitment and retention program. The writer was dismayed that mentors would be allowed to hunt and he didn't agree with the definition of novice. He also took issue with the fact that some of these hunts took place on areas not previously open to hunting, or refuges, as he called them. In my opinion, his view of the entire program was clouded by a few hunts he disagreed with and the fact that he missed the application period. However, my real problem with his piece was his interpretation that the days when "adults were willing to give of their time to see youngsters enjoy life" were gone. He thought that today's adults wouldn't take youth hunting without the lure of hunting themselves.

I wonder how many hunters the writer actually knows. I'm not sure I know a hunter who hasn't mentored someone, and most mentor every season. It's a natural part of the hunting heritage. However, we've identified "not enough time" as one of the biggest barriers to hunting, so if we can provide high-quality opportunities for both mentor and youth or novice hunters, why wouldn't we?

And I have no problem with mentors hunting with youth. I don't know about you, but I learned to hunt by hunting with my dad and granddad. I watched and learned, and it was a natural process. When Dad or Granddad killed a bird, I was as proud as if I had bagged the bird, and I felt part of our success. Most public land managers who design these hunts want participation. They especially want youth involved, and I guess they're not worried about an adult mentor's real motivation.

The Special Hunts Program is popular. In fact, I think this is the first negative comment I've seen, but I guess we can't please everyone. But make no mistake, today's hunters are "Passing It On."

Simple Outdoor Pleasures

I recently glanced at a photo taken earlier this fall and was immediately flooded with good feelings. It was a picture of me and Creede, by 11-year-old black lab, sitting in a make-shift duck blind. It wasn't a particularly good day for duck hunting because it was too warm and almost dead calm. The ducks didn't fly, but my cousin and me and the Big Black Dog had a great time. We enjoyed being miles from town on a special piece of land lush with a flowing spring, especially noteworthy during the prolonged drought. While calm winds didn't keep the ducks moving, the quiet allowed us to hear quail whistle just before dawn. We heard geese honking in an apparent territorial dispute a quarter mile to the south, and we heard the crunching footsteps of a white-tailed buck that cruised through the creek bottom behind us checking for does. I'll admit we were a little frustrated with the lack of ducks, but viewing the photo gave me only positive feelings. Hunting starts as a past-time or hobby, but if you stay with it long enough, it becomes part of your being. It's not so much that you go hunting but that you are a hunter, and you learn to enjoy every minute of every day in the field. It's an old cliche, but it really does boil down to just being there. Being there was important and it fuels the memory today and will fuel the memory 20 years from now. There aren't a lot of things in my life that impact me that way. I'm really glad Dad took me hunting 40 years ago.