Wednesday, January 24, 2007
SUNDAY HUNTING IS DANGEROUS
About 15 years ago, while still working for The Richmond Times-Dispatch, Virginia’s state newspaper, I pulled the boo-boo of my career.
What I did was suggest in a column that the time had come for Virginians to consider – not necessarily enact, just consider – hunting on Sunday.
You’d have thought I called Robert E. Lee a coward and a child molester.
Never in my 33 years in that gentle profession have I been the object of more hate mail, scatological phone calls and shouting contests on the street. It was suggested that I be tarred and feathered – or maybe it was drawn and quartered. The crowd that came looking for me bore a disturbing resemblance to the howling mob with torches and pitchforks that chased the Frankenstein monster up the mountain in the old movie.
Though some 40 states already allowed all-weekend hunting, suffice it to say that Virginians back then hated the idea the way the Devil hates holy water. I had to hide in the Blue Ridge Range, live in a brush arbor and survive on huckleberries until the shouting stopped down below.
Well, things change in 15 years. Sometimes they change quite a bit.
The Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries (usually called the Virginia Game Department) has just released a 5,000-participant survey that shows a startling change of heart.
The game department did a similar survey 10 years ago (five years after they let me run interference for them, the finks). This latest survey, completed in 2006 with a 60 percent return ratio, showed that 62 percent of hunters now approve of Sunday hunting, compared to only 45 percent who wanted it in 1996.
There are several reasons for the shift of sentiment, which, by the way, is large and strong enough to propel any of the several presidential contenders into the White House.
Deer numbers have grown so large they’re now a nuisance in many areas. (One jumped in front of my truck and darn near demolished it a couple of months ago.) There’s a strong and widespread feeling that there are way too many deer these days, and that a full weekend of hunting would be an excellent way to reduce the herd to manageable levels.
Hunting license sales are dropping faster than President Bush’s approval rating. The National Rifle Association says that "hunting is losing ground." For every 100 hunters who quit – mostly because of age – only 69 new hunters replace them. Advocates of Sunday hunting believe an extra day of hunting each week when season is open would give license sales – and thus conservation funds – a much-need boost. And with people working longer hours, weekends are in truth about the only time the average person has to go hunting.
(By contrast, fishing license sales are stable or even increasing slightly across much of the country.)
But detractors to Sunday hunting abound in the Bible Belt, even if most of the country has embraced Sunday hunting for a long time.
Farmers and church-goers don’t like Sunday hunting. They want to continue to have a day of rest and quiet. Hikers and bird-watchers aren’t willing to give up their one day of the week that is now free of gunfire.
The Virginia Game Department does not have the authority to make a legal decision on Sunday hunting. That is the responsibility of the Virginia General Assembly, which is presently in session in Richmond and which has a couple of Sunday-hunting bills before it.
Traditions die hard. The game department survey showed that if you’re under 30, then 76 percent of you supported Sunday hunting. If on the other hand you’re past 60, support drops to just 41 percent.
And where do I stand on such a contentious issue after all this time?
I’ll never tell. It’s too cold this time of year to hunker down in a brush arbor. And huckleberries are gone for another season.
END
What I did was suggest in a column that the time had come for Virginians to consider – not necessarily enact, just consider – hunting on Sunday.
You’d have thought I called Robert E. Lee a coward and a child molester.
Never in my 33 years in that gentle profession have I been the object of more hate mail, scatological phone calls and shouting contests on the street. It was suggested that I be tarred and feathered – or maybe it was drawn and quartered. The crowd that came looking for me bore a disturbing resemblance to the howling mob with torches and pitchforks that chased the Frankenstein monster up the mountain in the old movie.
Though some 40 states already allowed all-weekend hunting, suffice it to say that Virginians back then hated the idea the way the Devil hates holy water. I had to hide in the Blue Ridge Range, live in a brush arbor and survive on huckleberries until the shouting stopped down below.
Well, things change in 15 years. Sometimes they change quite a bit.
The Virginia Department of Game and Inland Fisheries (usually called the Virginia Game Department) has just released a 5,000-participant survey that shows a startling change of heart.
The game department did a similar survey 10 years ago (five years after they let me run interference for them, the finks). This latest survey, completed in 2006 with a 60 percent return ratio, showed that 62 percent of hunters now approve of Sunday hunting, compared to only 45 percent who wanted it in 1996.
There are several reasons for the shift of sentiment, which, by the way, is large and strong enough to propel any of the several presidential contenders into the White House.
Deer numbers have grown so large they’re now a nuisance in many areas. (One jumped in front of my truck and darn near demolished it a couple of months ago.) There’s a strong and widespread feeling that there are way too many deer these days, and that a full weekend of hunting would be an excellent way to reduce the herd to manageable levels.
Hunting license sales are dropping faster than President Bush’s approval rating. The National Rifle Association says that "hunting is losing ground." For every 100 hunters who quit – mostly because of age – only 69 new hunters replace them. Advocates of Sunday hunting believe an extra day of hunting each week when season is open would give license sales – and thus conservation funds – a much-need boost. And with people working longer hours, weekends are in truth about the only time the average person has to go hunting.
(By contrast, fishing license sales are stable or even increasing slightly across much of the country.)
But detractors to Sunday hunting abound in the Bible Belt, even if most of the country has embraced Sunday hunting for a long time.
Farmers and church-goers don’t like Sunday hunting. They want to continue to have a day of rest and quiet. Hikers and bird-watchers aren’t willing to give up their one day of the week that is now free of gunfire.
The Virginia Game Department does not have the authority to make a legal decision on Sunday hunting. That is the responsibility of the Virginia General Assembly, which is presently in session in Richmond and which has a couple of Sunday-hunting bills before it.
Traditions die hard. The game department survey showed that if you’re under 30, then 76 percent of you supported Sunday hunting. If on the other hand you’re past 60, support drops to just 41 percent.
And where do I stand on such a contentious issue after all this time?
I’ll never tell. It’s too cold this time of year to hunker down in a brush arbor. And huckleberries are gone for another season.
END
Sunday, January 07, 2007
BEWARE OF FISHING GEAR THAT ATTACKS!
All outdoor columns offer tips and helpful advice. This one is no exception.
Problem is, as an angling technocrat, I’m a good camel driver.
I’ve always held a grudging admiration for those outdoor types who can do everything from repair a malfunctioning shotgun in a duck blind to tying dry flies in a hurricane.
Unfortunately, my do-it-yourself abilities are limited. In fact, there are only two pieces of fishing advice that I feel I can offer with any degree of certainty.
The first is: "Never shut a car door on your fishing rod."
With that one, I’ve been successful about 95 percent of the time.
The second is: "Always wash the salt off your rod and reel after fishing in the ocean. If you don’t, it will rust and lock up. Guaranteed."
The last one has been a problem.
Often the only thing around in which to wash a rod and reel – once you’re through fishing – is more salt water. Even I know that if I rinse equipment in the ocean, I’m about as sharp as a marble.
Recently, however, I found the perfect solution to this dilemma.
Well, almost perfect.
While on a surf-fishing excursion to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, the perennial problem raised its ugly head again.
After a day of chasing bluefish in and out of the surf, I was covered with a fine salt crust. So was my fishing gear.
I went back to the motel where I was staying and, as always, carried my fishing gear back into the room with me.
The reason I do this is that surf-fishing gear enjoys a substantial popularity near any beach. Once outside a motel at Nags Head, some low-life admired my gear so much that he broke a car window to get it.
While inside, he also took my CB radio, a new Coleman cooler and my collection of Willie and Waylon CDs, possibly because by locking the doors, I’d made him expend the energy to break a window.
Anyway, I recently carried the two surf rods inside the motel with me. I had no intention of sleeping with the darn things – just propping them in a corner.
Once inside the room, I got ready to take a shower in order to get rid of the sand and salt spray on my precious body. That’s when I had an epiphany. Why not take the fishing rods into the shower with me?
There was plenty of soap and warm water. It would beat the heck out of hosing them down at a service station.
The fishing rods came out cleaner than I did. All I had to do later was hit the moving parts of the reels with a copious amount of WD-40 in order to replace the washed-away lubricant.
I was extremely proud of my creativity. The idea was so sound, so fundamentally simple and effective, that I considered composing a how-to article for one of the big outdoor magazines such as "Outdoor Life."
There’s one final tip, however, that I’ll pass on to you (though I may leave it out of the Outdoor Life piece since they don’t like unhappy endings).
Above all else, remove all hooks and lures from your fishing gear before taking it into the shower with you.
I knew from experience that a six-inch shiny Hopkins lure dangling a set of treble hooks wasn’t something to mess around with, but I had no idea how studiously you should avoid a Hopkins when it starts swinging around in a high-pressure shower.
Later that evening, the clerk at the front desk of the motel said she heard me cussing and screaming in the lobby, three floors down.
But she looked as if she might have a boy friend who steals fishing rods. I didn’t believe a word she said.
END
Problem is, as an angling technocrat, I’m a good camel driver.
I’ve always held a grudging admiration for those outdoor types who can do everything from repair a malfunctioning shotgun in a duck blind to tying dry flies in a hurricane.
Unfortunately, my do-it-yourself abilities are limited. In fact, there are only two pieces of fishing advice that I feel I can offer with any degree of certainty.
The first is: "Never shut a car door on your fishing rod."
With that one, I’ve been successful about 95 percent of the time.
The second is: "Always wash the salt off your rod and reel after fishing in the ocean. If you don’t, it will rust and lock up. Guaranteed."
The last one has been a problem.
Often the only thing around in which to wash a rod and reel – once you’re through fishing – is more salt water. Even I know that if I rinse equipment in the ocean, I’m about as sharp as a marble.
Recently, however, I found the perfect solution to this dilemma.
Well, almost perfect.
While on a surf-fishing excursion to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, the perennial problem raised its ugly head again.
After a day of chasing bluefish in and out of the surf, I was covered with a fine salt crust. So was my fishing gear.
I went back to the motel where I was staying and, as always, carried my fishing gear back into the room with me.
The reason I do this is that surf-fishing gear enjoys a substantial popularity near any beach. Once outside a motel at Nags Head, some low-life admired my gear so much that he broke a car window to get it.
While inside, he also took my CB radio, a new Coleman cooler and my collection of Willie and Waylon CDs, possibly because by locking the doors, I’d made him expend the energy to break a window.
Anyway, I recently carried the two surf rods inside the motel with me. I had no intention of sleeping with the darn things – just propping them in a corner.
Once inside the room, I got ready to take a shower in order to get rid of the sand and salt spray on my precious body. That’s when I had an epiphany. Why not take the fishing rods into the shower with me?
There was plenty of soap and warm water. It would beat the heck out of hosing them down at a service station.
The fishing rods came out cleaner than I did. All I had to do later was hit the moving parts of the reels with a copious amount of WD-40 in order to replace the washed-away lubricant.
I was extremely proud of my creativity. The idea was so sound, so fundamentally simple and effective, that I considered composing a how-to article for one of the big outdoor magazines such as "Outdoor Life."
There’s one final tip, however, that I’ll pass on to you (though I may leave it out of the Outdoor Life piece since they don’t like unhappy endings).
Above all else, remove all hooks and lures from your fishing gear before taking it into the shower with you.
I knew from experience that a six-inch shiny Hopkins lure dangling a set of treble hooks wasn’t something to mess around with, but I had no idea how studiously you should avoid a Hopkins when it starts swinging around in a high-pressure shower.
Later that evening, the clerk at the front desk of the motel said she heard me cussing and screaming in the lobby, three floors down.
But she looked as if she might have a boy friend who steals fishing rods. I didn’t believe a word she said.
END
