Check your ego at my door

These Lake Michigan anglers team up to land a 15-pound brown trout.

A boast sometimes rankles other people, especially when two or more anglers are on a trip together. Almost always, one of the people is big on himself and wants everyone else to know it.

Most people could care less what people have done. The trick is to be courteous and helpful, and if asked, answer the question as well as possible without bragging on yourself.

For instance, I know how many deer I've shot over nearly 60 years. It's really too many, and I seldom bring up the topic. I've been fortunate to have deer hunted in many states beside my native Michigan but choose not to constantly dwell on myself and my deeds.

On the other hand, I dislike being in a group that is being monopolized by an ego-freak who is determined to quote numbers, sizes, the width of a rack which invariably is larger than anyone else has taken. After a short time, the egotist discovers he no longer is preaching to the choir. Church is over, they’ve gone home.

Mentoring other writers …..

I mentor younger outdoor writers. All are making or have made many of the same mistakes I made when I started, but in my case, there was no one who offered to teach me any of the things I didn’t know. I struggled, made more mistakes, and trust me – when I tell people how to avoid making these mistakes, there is not a word of a brag to it. I tell them about my mistakes and how long it took me to correct many such errors. They learn fast or struggle for a long time.

A friend stopped by yesterday, and is looking forward to drawing a spring turkey tag. He wanted some calling advice, and I told him I am not a good turkey caller. I also told him that many, many hunters can call ten times better than me, but I can call turkeys. No brag involved when I downplay my miniscule calling skills, but others can associate with my lack of such because they have their own foibles. Some of these beginners are far better callers than me.

I showed him a couple of tricks I'd learned, told him how I do it, and repeated what he'd been told before. Don't call too much, don't call too loud, don't move and be patient.

A quick lesson …..

Years ago, I gave my twin brother a five-minute lesson on turkey calling. I took my gent out, and the bird I tried to call came in behind us, stood there drumming and spitting, and we couldn't get a shot. My brother was hunting a mile away, and we drove over just in time to watch him call in and kill a gobbler with just five minutes of instruction.

He got a well deserved pat on the back. My gent was disappointed for a bit, but he shot his gobbler later that afternoon.

The lesson in  all of this is that bragging long and hard on oneself is boring to others. If I'm asked, I'll answer a question and quickly turn the conversation back toward them.

Beginning anglers and hunters need to boast a bit over their successes, and that's OK … up to a point. But if you've shot 100 bucks with a bow, it means that you've hunted far more often than most people. It also means, if you dwell on that number without teaching those skills to others, those people often think you are lying, boring or a game hog.

None of which may be true. I'm a good deer hunter and a good steelhead fisherman, and have spent more than 55 years at both endeavors. Unless a person is blind or stupid, it stands to reason that they should have learned something along the way. Share that knowledge with others but spare the bragging.

A guide teaches a gentle lesson …..

Forty years ago I drove to New Brunswick to fish Atlantic salmon with a guide. I sought his advice on which salmon flies to buy, and he pointed them out. I sought his advice on which fly to start with, and he picked one out for me.

Two hours into fishing, my guide said softly: "Begging your pardon, sir, but I suspect you've washed that fly long enough.  I'd suggest changing to a brighter pattern."

He didn't have to dwell on the fact that I should have changed flies earlier. He offered a suggestion that I gladly accepted, and when I hooked a 10-pound salmon on a brightly colored fly, he didn't claim any credit. I'd been the one to choose the fly, and luckily, it produced a nice fish.

He could have bragged about his knowledge and skills, but instead, offered me a pat on the back for "choosing" the right fly. I had no clue what I was doing, and it was his suggestion that made that cast a success.

Even today, I enjoy giving credit to him for me catching my first Atlantic salmon. He poled the boat into position, told me where to cast, how long a cast to make, and all I did was manage to land the high-jumping fish once it hooked itself on the strike.

Stow the bragging, and if possible, share your know-how with another person without trying to make yourself look important. I labor in a business where there are more egotists than I ever believed possible, but I check my ego at the door when I leave home. It certainly works for me.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Shooter Versus Hunter

Hunting deer with a bow, someone once said, is the most fun you can have while wearing camouflage clothing.

If bow hunting is so much fun, is it any wonder that it is the fastest growing segment of deer hunting today? And if that is true, how do we tell the difference between a deer shooter and a deer hunter?

It's really quite simple. Hunters, like trout fishermen, go through three stages. They want to shoot deer on a regular basis; then they want to shoot the biggest buck possible; and the third stage is one of trying to outwit a deer in a one-on-one challenge of skills and keen instincts.

This is not a good shot and a true hunter would wait for the deer to turn.

The deer shooter doesn't understand the intricate sense of balance between them, the deer and the environment. They belong to that old and outdated group of hunter who subscribe to that awful philosophy: "If it's brown, it's down."

The hunter views the hunt as a wonderful event in nature where they can learn about deer, study the animals as they breed, feed, hide and roam at will. They have come to understand that the more they know about whitetail deer, the more successful they will become. And after a time, they progress to the third stage where the hunt becomes a very large and difficult challenge, one they know they will probably lose.

The shooter seeks the shortest distance between two points. There is no need for study because they know what a deer looks like. "Show me a buck and I'll shoot it" becomes their motto.

The hunter might complain about two days of east wind, but they are grateful for the opportunity to be afield and to hunt from a ground blind or tree stand. They know that many countries do not allow private ownership of firearms, and they see hunting as a privilege.

The shooter complains about everything: too much east wind, too much high pressure centers; too many bugs early in the season; not enough bucks; too many does; and they blame others for their misfortunate of missing a decent buck. They are into immediate gratification, and a dead deer is the only thing that gives it to them. To them, hunting is a God-given right, a thought that is not true.

Most shooters complain about everything, and blame others when something goes wrong.

The hunter studies the rut, knows that all bucks are not stupid during the breeding season, and they are wise enough to know that if you can fool the doe, the buck trailing behind is easy... if they decide to shoot.

The shooter seldom thinks about the doe but focuses solely on the buck. If they forget about the doe, and make any mistake, there will be no shots at the buck. They are impatient while hunters must be patient.

The hunter, thinking always of giving a buck an even chance, will pass up a marginal shot. He will remain still and silent, and allow a good buck to ease through if he is not 100 percent certain of his bow shot.

The shooter is a firm believer in the "Hail Mary" shot that may or may not make it into the vitals. They take a shot, often a low-percentage shot that only wounds the animal and often allows it to get away only to die in some secluded thicket. These deer have been wasted.

The hunter delights in a well-placed shot and shows the deepest respect for the animal they take. They are keenly aware of having killed an animal, and many may shed a silent tear for that  deer's death. They treat it with the utmost respect, even in death, and pay their final tribute to a beautiful creature by having it mounted.

A nice buck in the snow can be an easy shot in open terrain.

The shooter, if he scores, whoops it up and disgraces his killing act by talking about "happiness is a warm gut pile." The buck becomes nothing more than an ego stroke, a dead critter that grants them bragging rights over their buddies.

The hunter recalls each hunt, whether they are successful or not, with pleasure. They enjoy nature, marvel at beautiful sunrises and sunsets, and worship the areas where whitetail deer live.

The shooter recalls only the kill, and occasionally the miss, and could care less about the weather, the color of the autumn leaves and everything else about the hunt. For them, the kill is all they care about, and all that matters to them is a messy blood trail with a hair-covered corpse at the end of it.

There must be more to hunting than what the shooter sees. Hunters take in and thoroughly understand the magic of the hunt, where that outing with bow in hand becomes far more important than the kill.

Sadly, shooters seldom advance past that first level. They miss all that is fine and wonderful about the hunt, and revel only in a dead animal.

How sad!

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors