Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Passing the torch

It is a Golden autumn morning, many, many, years ago. The old red truck crunches through a large pile of fallen leaves that seem to be littered everywhere in a starburst of colors. An old 70's tune hums on the radio. I stick my head out the window and feel the cool crisp fall breeze, hard and biting on my cheeks, as the old familiar smell of rotting leaves and gunowder assails my nostrils. I take a deep breath and smile. Me my dad and my brother Morgan have set out grouse hunting. We are driving slowly down old bushroads scanning the forest and the road ahead for any sign of that well camouflaged fowl that is our prize. Today, as most days, we have bets on who can see the most and of course the first, so me and my brother are scrutinizing every bump and stump in the forest until our eyes ache. "There's one!" My brother cries. Dad stops the truck. "Where?" I ask. "Over there under that big spruce tree", my brothers whispers. Sure enough there he is, bobbing slowly away accross the forest floor. The excitent is palpable. "Nice spot", I say. Morgan beams. "You saw him Morgan, he is all yours", says dad. Morgan, trying to be quiet, creeps out of the truck. He is just about to bring the old 16 gauge up then, "whumpwhumpwhump!" the partridge takes flight. Ah well, that one got away, but we don't mind. That encounter simply got our ganglions tingling and we know we are in a good area. I start scouring the bush even harder as we start driving again because right now my little bro is winning one to nothing. Driving was great but what I liked most was when we would get out in the forest and walk.

The sights, sounds, and smells of the changing season filled me and I felt truly alive. Out in nature, fueled with a common purpose and pursuit, our family came together and bonded in a way that did not come so easy back home in the hustle and bustle of everday life. These were important days for all of us. I remember little things. Dad's old side by side 16 gauge shotgun with the engraving in the wood. The smell of a spent cartridge collected in the tall grass at the edge of an old dusty road. I remember that scary time when we all got lost together for a few hours trying to take a "short cut" back to the truck and the wonderful feeling of relief when we saw the road again. The joy and pride I felt receiving my first gun, at the age of 10, a break open 20 gauge that my grandfather handed down to me. I cherished this gun and what it meant. It was my grandfathers way of saying, you have now passed into manhood. A passing of the torch. That gun sits in my gun cabinet today, with all the rust and pitting, a poignent reminder of it's many days afield, and the many hands that held her.

Looking back, I realize now that all that time spent outdoors hunting and fishing helped shape who I am today. As a youngster, I was very fortunate to have been able to spend so much time at my grandparents home on Lake of the Woods, with a grandfather who lived and breathed fishing and hunting. I remember all those nights after a long day either in the bush or on the lake playing cribbage and listening to my grandfather and his many friends and guests tell hunting and fishing stories. Summers would involve many days out fishing in the boat with grandpa, days spent around the boathouse catching bass, crappie walleye, and crayfish and those wonderful family camping trips out on the lake, with me and Morgan exploring miles of shoreline, always with rod in hand. Needless to say, we didn't need much motivation. The seed was planted early. Winter didn't seem to have any effect on our activity level. It was only a five minute drive accross the ice to grandpa's secret ice shack nestled in behind Wolf Island. Playing cribbage and sipping hot cocoa in the warmth of the woodfire, sheltered from the elements, we always kept one eye on our rod tips, hoping for a flag to fall. Usually, we didn't have to wait to long. Occasionally, when we had our fill of walleyes, we would go for lake trout on Crow Lake even if this involved a little extra effort we would happily reel and jig like mad and with our airplane jigs and little cleo's. Grandpa was the perfect mentor and guide. I also rememer nice drives down logging roads setting snares for rabbits. Grandpa always had a bird dog and sometimes we would run the dog on these outings. There seemed to be no end to the adventures and possiblities. At the time I didn't realize how lucky I was, I do now.

Today however, things seem to have changed. There are individuals and groups that would like to stop what I and many others have taken for granted over the years. Cancellation of a spring bear hunt and changes in wolf hunting regulations in recent years that make it more expensive and restrictive for hunters to pursue these animals are examples of the forces at work that seek to cutoff our hunting heritage. Values and traditions that have been passed on for generations. There are groups that believe hunting and fishing of any kind should not exist in a "humane world". There are many arguements that would show how without managed hunting and fishing the "humane world" these groups visualize would be far less humane for people and nature. Aside from education and government one of the biggest keys to preseving our hunting and fishing heritage is our youth, recruitment and retention of hunters and fisherman. Today, we find ourselves in a world filled with boundless internet options, video games and endless T.V. channels. Is it any wonder that the youth of our generation seem more dull and distant in our age of instant gratification and sensory bombardment. These technologies are not inately evil or negative, there are of course many, many positive uses of modern technological advances. However, it seems that sometimes we are forgetting to balance the tangible and intangible. Living inside ones head is fine, but a constant barrage of static visual information without incorporation of the other senses can become quite a hollow and unhealthy existence. Human beings were not meant to sit for extended periods of time stationary and often alone in an empty room with nothing but the flickering glow of visual stimuli coming from ones picture box of choice. We were meant to be out of doors, under the big blue sky, taking our place as a part of nature.

It is our parents and grandparents that have had a large impact on most of us who enjoy the outdoors. It would follow that we have some responsibility to give to the next generation what received in ours. If you would like to see your children develop a fine character and sound moral compass activities like hunting and fishing, so tangible and corporeal, are some of the best teachers we have of timeless values. The physical exercise and ability to make these outings a family affair just add to the long list of positives. Patience, perserverance, respect and generousity are just some of the qualities that can be learned.

One time, after catching a fine limit of walleyes out on the lake, grandpa took all of the fillets and put them in a cooler along with some other goodies like his smoked lake trout and fresh vegetables from grandma's garden. We took that cooler and drove to a few homes in the community and shared our bounty with people who were unable to get out fishing or hunting. I remember at the last home, grandpa sent me to take the remainder of the food up to the door. Nervously I rang the doorbell and an elderly lady appeared at the door. After presenting her with the fresh fish and garden vegetables I was rewarded with a warm smile. I never forgot that day. This was the type of man my grandfather Ralph Showalter was and hopefully some of these values rubbed off on us.

I've always spent a good portion of my free time and holidays with family and friends in the outdoors. Much of my time today is spent hunting and fishing with my wife Debbie, Dad, and my brother Morgan. It is something that has bonded us. These are some of the most memorable and enjoyable times for us. I can't help but be thankful and hopefully to some degree "paying it forward". Thank you grandpa and dad!

Rene.

Have a great holiday season!

[bleep] off

and die.!

rene I'll make this easy for you to understand


when you come to







nothing else you attempt to post will be accepted.

nice Keith!

nuff said? lol

What's the deal? Not understanding the comments....

Deleted the compliment.....pretty sure Rene is a lying POS. And so is her husband.

Rene, around here we put people in jail for road hunting. You can't just ride around looking for something to shoot out of the car window and romanticize that as "Hunting".

Hard to see that you have any understanding of hunters if that's what you've been doing for years.

What he said....^^^^^^

Bowbldr, I don't see anywhere that he says he shoots things out his car window.

I think I have a pretty good understanding of hunters. I am a hunter through and through with huge respect and understanding of the game I pursue.

.

Your a liberal [bleep] through and through and think your a big hunter and know nothing of being a man.

Rene W. Cadene GFY!

Uh-Oh, looks like the lying fraud is getting closer to being outed.

Yes sir he's starting to leave a trail. heres more.

"I'm 38 and live in Marathon, Ont."

Phone] #807-229-3144

Email] renewcadeneshaw.ca

I'm not a liberal. Not sure why you choose to label me as such. Do I have to be a Christian and pro-military to be conservative? I'm also not gay. I don't think I'm a big hunter. I just enjoy hunting. What is a big hunter? I do not do any prostaffing, rarely use outfitters and spend a lot of my time helping others with their hunting. Do I have to worry about my safety from you nutbars for simply not being afraid of having and sharing opinions that might differ from yours?

That was 6 years ago.He's now 44.

Then we sure have nailed the [bleep] liar label, haven't we.?

Rene

Have you renewed your NRA membership recently?

No I haven't.

You boys never rode around looking for Partridges? Fn kids.