‘WHEN IT COMES TO THE OUTDOORS... SIMPLER CAN BE BETTER'

       Over the years, a lot of things have changed for those of us who enjoy the outdoors. We still hunt and fish and camp; only, for some of us our focus has changed drastically. No longer do the majority of fishermen enjoy the simpler pleasures of fishin’ small rivers, creeks, and ponds; they prefer instead to race over huge impoundments in high-dollar bass boats, competin’ against dozens of others in bass fishin’ tournaments  Where squirrel, rabbit, and bobwhite quail used to be the preferred game animals of hunters, now it’s trophy deer and turkey. It don’t hardly seem like anybody much appreciates a good bowl of quail and dumplin’s or a paper plate full of pan-fried Bluegill anymore… and that’s a shame.

          Gone too are the rustic, bare-bones huntin’ and fishin’ camps of old. Nowadays, the typical huntin’ camp is full of big fancy RVs, noisy electric generators, and a variety of four-wheelers and all-terrain vehicles for haulin’ hunters and downed game to and from the field. As for fishin’ camps, it’s pretty much the same, only in place of ATVs are pontoons and bass boats, and the camp is usually confined to one or two sites in a lakeside commercial campground.

          Give me a well-trained bird dog backin' another that’s on point; the explosion of wings and adrenaline as a covey of quail burst from cover just underfoot, shockin' novice and expert alike into not even gettin’ a shot off at their quarry. Or standin' around in a thicket with family and friends on a good ol' January rabbit hunt; pickin' at and teasin' one another about missed shots and such, as we wait on a mouthy pack of Beagles to circle a long-eared Cottontail back around to us.

          I know nothing more fun than pullin’ in hand-sized Bluegills and river-wise Spots on ultralight tackle, while wading a cool, clear stream; and then later cleanin’ a mess of those same fish at stream-side before grilling or pan-fryin’ ‘em up for supper. And as much as I love my STARCRAFT camper, stayin’ in some crowded campground ain't no where near as peaceful and relaxin' as campin’ on a secluded, sandy riverbank somewheres back up in the boonies; a cool breeze wafting through an open tent flap, a hint of campfire smoke in the air, with just the light of the moon and stars to illuminate the night.

          Life gets complicated enough on its own. Who needs the added pressure of tryin’ to bag a wall-hanger buck or the heaviest limit of bass durin’ your off time? Not this ol' man, that's for sure. If I sound like a romantic, it’s true. I am one. To me, huntin’ and fishin’ and campin’ is all about the basics; about spending time in the great outdoors, enjoyin' every day afield, and about gettin’ away from all the stress and boredom of every day life.

          So, I reckon me and mine’ll keep floatin’ the creeks in canoes, pot-shottin’ squirrels durin’ the ‘cuttin’ season’, and sittin’ by a campfire way back in the woods, listenin’ to the crickets and the frogs and the night birds, late of a night... which beats the heck out of the incessant hum of a HONDA generator, anytime.