I was fortunate, in the sense that I was introduced to the wonderful outdoors at a very young age. My father was an avid fisherman, and I can say with all confidence that he was equally as eager to share his passion with his son.
He wasn't remotely as excited about hunting. Looking back, I suspect there were a lot of Saturday afternoons that he would have far rather been kicked back in his favorite chair and watching football than kicking around in the woods on a cold winter day. But he recognized the importance of introducing this particular sport to his son as well. Let alone, it was yet another opportunity to spend quality time together.
As for my mother, she wasn't much into the hunting and fishing scene. But she was quick to strike out on a quest to locate wildflowers. And when berry picking season rolled around, she would brave the brambles, ticks and chiggers to gather a gallon, or two, of those sweet and scrumptious natural morsels that grew wild.
I eagerly awaited each and every opportunity to experience the outdoors with my family. And with age, my passion has hardly dwindled. In fact, one might say that my life pretty much revolves around spending time in the midst of Mother Nature.
That being said, with time comes experience, And with experience comes a better understanding. So it only makes sense that I have grown more knowledgeable about my favorite outdoor activities. And my skill level has surely increased, as well.
One might agree that my skill level has benefitted throughout the years, as I have managed to experience my fair share of fishing and hunting success. I can recall boating a 30-pound striped bass several years ago and I'll not soon forget the excitement of lipping a nine-pound largemouth that I caught on a jig-and-pig on a moonlit night.
I still recall the excitement of bagging a trophy whitetail buck on a dreary November day. And the morning I managed to harvest a tom turkey sporting a 12-inch beard will forever be etched in my mind. And let's not forget the feral hog that weighed far more than four hundred pounds.
These are but a few of the memorable experiences that have occurred in the midst of the outdoors. And I suspect these examples should be a valid resume of my skill level.
But to be honest, I'm not sure that my previous success should necessarily be credited to my skill. Of course, knowledge and experience do play somewhat of a role in one's success. But I have come to a conclusion that there is yet another ingredient to the recipe that is equally as important, if not more so.
Looking back, I was fishing for largemouths during the outing when I tied into the aforementioned 30 pound striped bass. And the nine pound largemouth? Well, I had fished this particular section of the lake hundreds of times before and although this spot consistently produced fish, they hardly ever exceeded two or three pounds.
As for the whitetail? Although I was hunting an active scrape, I had no idea that a trophy was frequenting the area. And once again, the gobbler was somewhat of a surprise. In fact, it wasn't even the bird that I was hunting on that particular morning. And I had no intentions of seeing a feral hog when I perched against a tree with hopes that a shooter buck would unsuspectingly meander within range.
Don't get me wrong, I am acutely aware that knowledge and skill are important; especially if one hopes for success on somewhat of a consistent basis. I would love to credit my abilities for my good fortune throughout the years. But I truly can't. Because experience has convinced me that persistence is actually the key.