An example: Marrying my wife was certainly one of the best decisions I ever made. It was definitely a heart decision. I had been more or less infatuated with her since we first rode the bus together in eighth grade. We started dating our freshman year in college. I fell hard and fast. I knew on our first date that she was the woman I wanted to marry. We got engaged at the end of our junior year in college. During our senior year , she broke off the relationship. I was devastated. It took a long time and a lot of soul searching to recover. Four and half years later, our paths crossed again. She wanted to give things another try. There was small voice in my head that said "you are just setting yourself to have your heart broken again, and possibly even worse". Overwhelmingly, my heart said "yes!". We were engaged within a couple months, and married six months after that. We've now been married nearly ten years. To borrow a phrase, I didn't marry the woman I could live with, I married the woman I couldn't live without.
As my devotion to upland hunting grows and matures, I have had to make several heart and head decisions. Seems odd to talk about hunting in this manner, but when birds, dogs and guns get into your blood, this kind of thinking comes naturally.
Gear: I admit I like the look of some of the classic gear: waxed cotton jackets, canvas briar pants, funny hats. I sheepishly admit I even like the tweeds worn by English sportsmen. But here, heads prevail. Modern fabrics keep me warm and dry, even in the most adverse hunting conditions. I can cherish the hunt more when I am not constantly thinking about how wet or cold I am, or how good it would feel to get inside. Head wins.
Guns: The "head choice" would be a modern autoloader or over/under, without a doubt. Modern guns can shoot about any kind of ammunition, and do so without fail, for many years. But in this category, the heart wins. My 80+ year-old side by side speaks to me in a way a modern, machine-made gun just can't. Lovingly hand-crafted, it is a joy to carry, even if I don't shoot it. Sure, I have to order shells by case from a special maker, because you can't feed these things your off-the-shelf modern ammunition, but that seems a small price to pay for the delight of hunting with a piece of history.
Rigs: I really want an old Land Rover, preferably green with a white top, or perhaps the entire thing could be desert khaki. Sixties-era would be nice. Manual transmission, manual locking differential, jump seats in the back. I can see it now, trundling down a two-track, with a brace of steaming birddogs in the back, panting after a hard hunt. The heater probably wouldn't work all that well, but I hunt prepared for the elements. I could live without a radio or power windows. But let's be realistic. Even though most of my hunting takes place within an hour drive of my home, modern vehicles cannot be beat for reliability and safety. Your hunting rig tends lose some if it's romance when it is broken down by the side of the road. And if I'm going to get plowed into by a drunk driver, him on his way home from a bender, me out early to greet the sunrise, I'd rather be in an airbag festooned, crumple zone enriched contemporary ride than a fine vintage vehicle. Head wins here. But, if I am ever so fortunate to acquire some acreage of my own that I can groom for hunting, you can be sure there will be a tattered lorry parked in the barn.
Dogs: My Weimaraner, Whit is 7. I won't say she is past her hunting prime (she is not), but her the twilight of her career could be coming. She is still athletic in a way that belies her age. She continues to refine her bird handling with each passing season. Sooner or later, though, I'll need to start grooming an a new recruit. My head tells me a I should get another versatile dog, like a German Shorthair Pointer. In my opinion, they are most naturally talented of the pointing breeds. If you want an out-of-the box, forget the instruction manual type of birddog, buy a GSP. They are also well suited to the type of hunting I do: pheasants, woodcock and grouse in a variety of different types of covers. Some GSPs even make passable duck dogs, which would be nice as I do like to chase ducks once or twice a season. But my heart says otherwise. I want an old style English setter, blue or orange belton coat, blocky head, soulful eyes and calm temperament. I don't have much interest in the spritely, small field trial-type setters. They are fine birddogs, indeed, but not my cup of tea. Give me a dog that looks just as much at home in sprawled out in front of a hearth as it does in the coverts of fall, or in a turn-of-the-last century painting. These dogs come with character and charm in spades. Much of hunting for me has become about aesthetics: the beauty of the season the crafted by the hand of God, the lovely lines of an old gun, and the gracefulness of the dog covering ground in front of me. These are the things that stir my heart, etch themselves in my soul. These are the memories I hope to page through like worn, well-loved book when my body is too aged for the woods. Here, heart wins again.
This is genuinly you! I loved it. Keep writing!
ReplyDelete