Living life to the fullest

Two great friends -- my son David (left) and Mark Rinckey of Honor

Life is a very precious commodity, and speaking only of myself, I try to live each day to its fullest.

There are many ways to live, but my life has been built on a strong foundation of honesty, hard work and helping others whenever possible. Those thoughts will be with me tonight, tomorrow and forever.

I consider myself a very lucky man. Hard work, they say, never hurts anyone and I suppose that is true. I've been fortunate in my life. It hasn't all been easy, and the money I needed to run my businesses hasn't always been there, but somehow we've always made it through.

It hasn't all been easy, but no one ever guaranteed an easy life

My business life, like that of others who are in business, has been a series of ups and downs, high and low points. My writing has always fluctuated with the moods of the stock market and the automobile industry, and there was never anything I could do to cure that except drum up more markets when business slowed down.

I've always believed in delivering the best possible product. If a story need two or three rewrites, that's what it got. I often went out to shoot specific photographs for a special story.

A magazine wrote a story once about me, saying I was an honest man. It wasn't an ego stroke for me. It's something I've always believed in all of my life. Honesty is the hallmark of every man, and as my Daddy once said, we come into life buck naked and with a good reputation and I want to leave it the same way.

There is much to be thankful for. My children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren work hard and are honest, and I'm almost always surrounded by family. They enable me to live my life as I choose.

My choice has always been to work, grow my writing business, and hunt as often as possible. My bills always got paid, my family eats well, and when it becomes necessary to reduce my workload, I made necessary changes.

My avocation also is my vocation; Few can say the same

Few people can say that they've had a job they loved. Many folks can't stand their boss or their job, but that has never been my problem because i am my own boss and my worst critic. I love meeting people, and my weblog gives me a great opportunity to meet some of the finest people in the world.

How many people can say they do what they wish to do. Many of my years were spent working for others, and then I began my machine shop and became my own boss. It gave me the freedom to work when I wanted, hunt whenever possible, and be a productive citizen.

My life, for the most part, has been spent being productive at a job I loved and wanted to do. Designing new bows, striving for the ultimate compound bow, and working constantly toward that goal is difficult but refreshing. We reach a certain point, encounter a problem, and then it takes time to solve it. Solving problems became a theme for me.

And it has made me stronger

I look at my life, and that of my family and close friends, and feel good about my place in society. If I had it to do over again, I would probably live my life the same way.

Such thoughts will surround me as we work our way toward Easter and spring weather, and I will give thanks for a long and fruitful life. I've lived it my way, and that means a great deal to me.

I've written thousands of magazine articles, newspaper columns, and daily weblogs, and it's you -- the reader -- on an individual and collectively, to produce good copy and fine photos. That I've done, and over 72 years, I've done things my way.

My reward in life is not measured by a large bank account, and a big beautiful car, and an expensive home but by the acceptance and occasional good and kind words of gratitude by my reading audience. I do this, not only for you, but also for myself.

Collecting old outdoor objects heightens my outdoor pleasures

Another of my favorite collectibles are my Michigan turkey patches

Everyone collects something. Writers collect information, baseball fans collect cards of their favorite players, and hockey fans collect sweaters of favorite players or signed hockey-pucks or sticks.

My mother collected old Mason canning jars and hid change in old pill bottles. I go through enough pill bottles, but have precious little change to save. Besides, I prefer what little money I have to be in my pocket.

People have been known to collect string, wire and tin foil. Most of my collecting was related in one way or another to fishing, hunting or trapping for the past 55 years. I even have an old bear trap my Atlantic salmon guide used years ago to trap bear in New Brunswick.

My items of collection are different from those of most people

The world of fishing and hunting is rife with things to collect. My late brother collected old Michigan-made fishing lures and black-white postcards, especially those with fish on them. I helped him locate lures and he helped me track down old fishing and hunting books. It worked out well for both of us.

A buddy collects old double-barrel shotguns while another friend collects only Belgian-made Browning rifles and shotguns. Still another collects duck decoys from some of the old master carvers, another collects bamboo fly rods, and many others collect the bear, deer and turkey patches.

One man collects miniature fishing and hunting books. These tiny books can be as small as two inches high. There aren't very many of such books around, and most of them are very scarce.

Although most of my older traps have disappeared, there are still some No. 1 and 1 1/2 long-spring and jump traps used for muskrats, coons, mink and fox. I still have a few of the old metal stretchers we used to dry our muskrat hides prior to the sale.

I have a small collection of very low-numbered fishing and hunting licenses as well as some metal seals for deer, bear, moose, wolf and wolverine. Something makes folks like me collect such things. I have a number of old fishing and hunting digests dating back into the 1940s and before.

Mom did her thing with Mason jars and tinfoil. Dad loved western novels, and especially those published in the 1940s and 1950s.  He also had a bunch of the Dell map-back novels, and many are scarce and desirable to old paperback novel collectors, often for their covers.

My guess is we feel closer to our chosen pastimes of fishing and hunting when we are engaged in collecting some of the memorabilia that accompanies our passions. I also have a small knife collection, including an old Marble Arms Company Boy Scout knife.

Books, knives, old, used shotshells & other objects of interest

Are any of these items worth great sums of money? No, they aren't. I used to reload shotgun shells, and somewhere along the way had the chance to pick up some Winchester-Western 12-gauge AA plastic shotshell cases. Some people are looking for them because they were a great shotshell for reloaders, but one wonders what I'll do with them.

It's obvious to most people who read these daily blogs that I collect fishing and hunting books. Why, you ask? Because it's difficult for us to determine where we are going if we don't know where we've been. The books give me a wonderful idea of what has gone before, and besides, I'm a hopeless romantic when it comes to old fishing and hunting gear.

Over many years my hat collection has grown. There is a story behind every hat, and I still remember most of the stories. Some involve fishing and hunting while other relate more to friends who enjoy the same things that wind my clock. The collection numbers about 400, and each has a story to tell.

I have an old Marble compass and match-safe I've carried while hunting since I bought my first hunting license in 1952. In my pocket is a Case jack-knife that is older than I am, and I well remember always having a pocket knife on my person from the 4th grade on.

Every boy in school carried a pocket knife when I was young, and no one was ever cut or stabbed by one, and having one in your pocket wasn't grounds for being expelled from school. My knife helped me stay focused on what I think are important issues about the old days and life itself, and sadly, those days have ended and a knife -- even though used to trim fingernails or sharpen a pencil -- now results in an unfriendly chat with the police and probable expulsion from school.

Buying Dad two Derringers for Christmas when we were 12

I well remember years ago when our father was a member of the Special Police in Clio where we grew up. Brother George and I bought Dad a pair of pearl-handled .22 Derringers for Christmas one year. We were kids, but the local chief of police knew us, and OK’ed the buy. That wouldn't happen now. The kids, and their unwitting father, would likely be arrested: the kids for buying firearms and Dad for letting it happen.

Some little nicknacks line my shelves. Old bottles of Citronella (an insect repellent), leader tins for storing fly-fishing leaders, an old bottle of Hoppe's No. 9 that I open several times each year to savor an aroma as distinctive as a 12-point buck or a wedge of decoying mallards.

I bought a set of maps published by the Michigan DNR many years ago. There are hot-spots marked on those maps that showed the way to old fishing areas, some great grouse and woodcock coverts, and the neat thing is they show old trails and two-tracks that are no longer visible. Search those maps, and it's easy (sometimes) to find an old lane that when followed will help us restore some great memories of yesteryear.

Some people have asked me: "What good is all of that old crap?" They only see the flotsam of one man's life while I see this stuff as being pretty important to me and my fondest memories. Anything that can bring the old days back to life, if only for a few minutes, may be junk to some but it's one man's treasure for an old goat like me.