After much deliberation, and in between mowing the lawn for the umpteenth time, I decided not to compile the usual "what to buy the sportsman in your family" column, with the obligatory list of new outdoor gear, but instead I've compiled my own personal wish list for this holiday season. I wish the rush of development in my corner of central Maine would slow down, even a little bit. It seems every field and woodlot I drive by is sporting a new house. I'm getting older, and having to scout out new hunting spots farther and farther from my front door is getting exhausting, and I would selfishly rather see those fields sprinkled with wild turkeys and the woodlots sheltering wildlife
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I wish for a decent snowfall this winter, not only to ensure a postcard New England Christmas but so the ruffed grouse can divebomb into snowdrifts and stay protected and warm, and so snowshoe hares can tunnel under spruce trees troubled with snow -- and evade the hawks no doubt scheming from above. But I don't want too much snow, because that might trap the deer in claustrophobic wintering yards, leaving them floundering like fish out of water if forced out of the runways by roving predators. Please let there be an upswing in the American woodcock population, for this migratory "prince of the uplands" is struggling with a lack of habitat across the central and eastern flyway. I don't wish this to ensure my gunning pleasure and pride in good dog work, but because the alder runs and poplar-strewn hillsides will be lifeless without them.
I wish the Maine sportsman groups that held so strongly together to defeat the banning of bear baiting, trapping, and hounding -- yet splintered like a broken bat over Sunday hunting -- would join hands and become united again. In the same vein, I wish the bird hunter and even the fisherman would stand firmly beside the deer hunter or the bear hunter when their chosen sport is being threatened, because, in the final analysis, they aren't that different and are also vulnerable to anti-hunting efforts.
I wish more hunters would stop "preaching to the choir" and engage nonhunters in meaningful discussions and debates on issues like game management, wildlife conservation, and forestry practices that benefit all wildlife. The gulf between nonconsumptive and consumptive users, hiker vs. hunter, has blurred to the degree that we need to recognize our common interests and work together toward common goals.
I particularly wish sportsmen would introduce not only their sons but also wives and daughters to traditional outdoor sports so a new generation will carry the torch into the future. Our ranks are dwindling much too fast.
I wish my dogs would never grow old; for there always to be a big Maine buck up high in the green growth ready to outwit me; for there to always be a pure strain of eastern brook trout to tempt with a fly; for there always to be uncivilized places to explore that aren't infected with No Trespassing signs.
I know this is asking a lot, but, in the hope that my wife reads this, I could really use some wool socks, a simpler GPS than the one I can't figure out, a rugged thermos, and maybe the outdoorsman's holy grail: a pair of boots that really don't leak.
Brad Eden is an artist, writer, Registered Maine Master Guide, and owner/editor of the online magazine www.uplandjournal.com. He lives in Frankfort.
