The older I get, the better I was

I have always enjoyed the company of old people.  I just never thought I'd become one.  Older people have the most, if not the best, hunting and fishing stories.  My cousin Sonny certainly has the most and, if not the best stories, some pretty good ones.

Over the holidays I saw many friends and heard a lot of hunting stories, many repeated at different parties we attended.  I also became aware of a recurring sub-theme, "I'm not as good as I once was."  These were stories of new aches and pains, echoed by most of  my friends . . . swollen knees, other knees with torn menisci, adult on-set diabetes, torn rotator cuffs, hips in need of replacement, lack of stamina, and on and on.  Then the common chorus, "when I was young, I could trail a deer all day...uphill."

Before, we men used to talk of heroic deeds of stamina and skill.  Now, we older men talk of the lightest, most comfortable seats we can carry in the woods.  The tree hammock seems to have been the winner at one Christmas party.  What did the old Irish Spring soap commercial say, "Manly yes, but I like it too."

Brother Kirk and me on one of our first hunts

One thing is for sure, God does have a sense of humor.  I'm convinced that aging is some twisted gift that, one day, allows us to stand humble before God.  I'm living proof of that.  Fortunately and unfortunately, I've been blessed with a pretty good memory.  Fortunately, I can fondly recall a fair amount of my happy childhood.  Unfortunately, I can also remember too many stupid things I said, or did, or uninformed thoughts I held as a youth.  I remember riding my father because he wasn't active enough and boldly stating that I would never be heavy or out of shape.  I was wrong.  I recall thinking little of "so-called" sportsmen who used scopes to hunt.  When my vision started to deteriorate from 20/15 to needing to wear bifocals, I ended up buying scopes for all my rifles.

They say that youth is wasted on the young.  I used to think that that meant that young people were not smart enough to appreciate that they were having a good time and enjoying the freedom of being young.  At the time, I didn’t buy that.  I thought I did appreciate being young.  I think "youth is wasted on the young" has a more fundamental meaning that cannot be appreciated by the young.  Youth cannot know what it means to wake up with the normal aches and pains of getting older.  Youth cannot appreciate the physical limitations, some minor and others more profound, placed on the more mature outdoorsman.

One thing I have always treasured, whether young or in my current state of being "not young," is the hunting stories of older outdoorsmen.  A younger sportsman's stories just don't have the right sense of setting, development, or timing.  (This may be, in part, because they haven't had the opportunity of retelling them for 20 years.)   They are also missing the nostalgic glint in the older storyteller's eye that brings the listener back to another time and place.

So here is to all my older friends, family, and mentors.  I never really doubted the hunting prowess of your youth.  Thank you for still making the effort to get outside and enjoying the company of others - whether or not your efforts result in success.  And thank you for the great stories of past hunts and past trips.  Let's hope there are many stories left in years to come.  And to the not-yet-old, we are delighted at your passion for the outdoors and thanks for listening to all our stories...some of them are even true (at least in part).

Happy days afield.