Just a Boy

The boys that were from Mills Elementary, northern Midland County, loved the outdoors.  We told tales of our fishing exploits and dream hunts.  How we were different from the city kids in Midland.  They had sidewalks and McDonalds while we only had what our imaginations could dream of.  Corn fields where we would fashion corn cob pipes, sneak matches and try to smoke corn silk.  Woods, creeks, ponds, frogs, snakes, ruffed grouse and deer appeared everywhere.  We dreamed of mountain men, Indians and explorers of a new frontier.

Our little school was kindergarten through fourth grade so we had a long bus ride into the city to attend Siebert Elementary (5^th/6^th grades).  I don’t know if it was Mark Lashuay, Mike Brown or me who discovered it but one of us found a book in the Siebert Library that appeared to match the dreams we had been sharing.  Contained within those pages were explanations of how the Indians lived as they had, trapping with snares, hunting, fishing and gathering.  They cared for one another and they cared for their land.  For without either one, human survival would be difficult.  It also contained stories about the trappers and mountain men.  How they cared for their trapped skins, cooking, fire building and survival shelters to fend off Mother Nature.  If I didn’t have the book checked out from the library, Mark or Mike would have it. 

Hours on the bus, at lunch and little league baseball games would be filled talking about what we read in those pages.  We planned things like living in the Rockies, Canada, or Alaska.  Armed with a rifle, fishing pole and some traps, we would have all we would need to survive.

The years passed and everyone drifted apart.  Mark retired from the U.S. Navy and I don’t know what happened to Mike.  I married, had two children with my wife, Lisa and spent 27 years serving the public as a police officer.  Once married, I all but gave up fishing and small game hunting to enjoy that time with my family.  In return for this gesture, Lisa allowed me to bow hunt and rifle hunt whenever I wanted, with no strings attached.  I have had special outdoor spiritual moments with my children, Megyn and Kristyn.  I have mentored friends in hunting whenever their busy schedules allowed it.  I am always attentive for someone seeking advice but more often a student trying to gain more knowledge.  If you have not fed your family and friends from your toils in the woods or on the water, you do not understand the whole process. 

I do not take lightly the act of killing an animal for sport as my mantle can attest.  My culinary experiences have at times been described as “outrageously good” or “Oh my God!” by both fellow hunters and non hunters alike.  I find great appreciation in being able to provide such a tasteful memory and I must reflect on those times whenever the hunt becomes laborious or tedious.  The dining is the end product of a long journey of emotional highs and lows and back again.  A twelve year old boy’s dreams were being realized.