A Boyd's Eye View: Warm memories win out over cold adventures.

As I write this it is the eve of the opening of the 2016 Deer Gun Season in Wisconsin. Few places in the country (or the world for that matter), place more importance on this long-standing tradition. For days now, even weeks for some, preparations have been underway to make the opener a successful one, whether a deer is harvested or not.

Over the past several years I have watched from the sidelines as the annual event took place. I used to participate, enthusiastically, but these days my memories of past hunts seem to be enough. Am I envious of seeing the big antlered bucks that are shot and registered every year (especially when it's one taken by my son-in-law and/or daughter)? Absolutely; the big one always eluded me. But it never really bothered me. I guess I never hunted for the trophy. Hunting to me has always been like all my other outdoors pursuits, a way to reconnect with what ignites my inner flame. 

Don't get me wrong, I've had more than my share of outdoors adventures. The mere thought of all the miles I trekked chasing pheasants and other upland birds across the Dakota prairies, farm fields and endless seas of CRP makes my knees hurt even now. Then there were the hours trying to sit still in a tree stand when the temps were single digits and shivering was involuntary. I was always better at walking than sitting, which is no doubt why I still prefer wing shooting over still hunting.

The same goes for fishing too. While angling has and always will be my greatest outdoor passion, I haven't done nearly as much of it the past few years for a number of reasons. Part of it was that I did what everyone said I should do many years ago and turn my passion into my profession. That has allowed me to fish in some fabulous places and catch some amazing fish over the decades, but it's a double-edged sword really. The problem comes when it becomes work and not a break from work. The day I began to think of fishing as work, it lost a good bit of the charm and attraction for me it once had. I found myself in a boat in a place most would only be able to dream of fishing, and I really didn't want to be there. I suppose that's not all that unusual really. We all go through changes in our life. That was just one I never really saw coming.

Oh I still love fishing. But now I find joy in the simpler aspects of the sport that I paid little attention to in the past. Gone now is the big boat rigged with fancy electronics and equipment to make the fish want to throw up their fins and just jump in the net (at least you'd have thought that's the way it was supposed to work). Now I've scaled back to a simpler style of angling ... float tubes and shore fishing are more appealing now than spending a $100 to fill the truck and boat with gas for the weekend. Sure, I don't catch as many fish, but I enjoy my time more when I do fish, whether or not they're biting. 

So these days you might call me a "fair weather" sportsman, and I'm just fine with that. If I wake up and its cold and rainy, I do something other than go fishing or hunting. If I have to decide one day whether to take an opportunity to go fishing during a hot bite or play golf on a nice course I've never played, I'm more likely to hit the links that day. It's not that I wouldn't like to go fishing, but it's a case of "been there, done that", and life is so much more interesting if you take the path less traveled more often.

I will spend some time in the deer woods this fall, and I will hope my arrow flies true and I get the chance to harvest the big one that has eluded me all these years, but if I don't, I will have all my memories to keep me warm. At least that's my Boyd's Eye View on it. Carry on.