Editorial-Opinion March 2025

There’s a bit of a last-minute re-write to this month’s editorial, and it’s in the wrong direction—or maybe it’s the right direction. Let’s just say the path diverged from how thoughts are normally put to paper around here.

The normal path… something shiny gets our attention, and by shiny I mean it is often when something raises the ire or blood pressure. That then becomes a topic that at times might come across as a vent, or, heaven forbid, a bit preachy.

This month, instead of devoting this page to that topic—turkeys—which has me concerned, I received two wonderful reminders of why hunting, fishing, being outside in nature—the outdoors in general—means so much to so many of us. 

At its core, hunting, or fishing, or just being outside, is fun. Never apologize that it’s fun, even when talking to those who can’t understand the ‘taking’ part of ‘consumptive use’ of the outdoors. What we do and love is beyond fun—these experiences are like no other.

This stuff is also transformative. 

Hunting, fishing, being outside in the midst of God’s creation—it changes you. And it changes a person for the good, inwardly in one’s soul, and even outwardly in how that person walks in this life, and how his or her walk resonates with family, friends and even those barely touched through casual encounters.

 My inspiration and reminder of how the outdoors is fun and transformative came this month from two sources. One was a day on the water fishing with Alan Shultz, a guy I met in college… and we’re pushing 60, so it’s been a minute. We connected because Alan shared my love and passion for fishing. During college we spent countless hours in a jonboat, particularly on a little lake south of Athens in Morgan County. By coincidence, luck, fate, or by the hand of a higher power, Alan and I both ended up living in that same county. Over the past couple of years, I’ve coerced Alan into joining me on some kayak fishing adventures on small lakes in our part of the state. 

Last month Alan and I fished Lake Varner. We didn’t have a bite until early afternoon, but Alan is the type of fisherman who doesn’t get overly discouraged and has that optimism that’s contagious.

“We’re going to figure something out,” Alan said around lunchtime. 

And we did. Jerkbaits on shallow flats… after that warming trend the fish had moved up more than we expected.

The third bite of the day is one I think I’ll remember for a long time. Maybe forever. It was good bass—for me this was a BIG bass—and it hit on top. She jumped three or four times, ran under my kayak and jumped one more time on the other side right next to me, before finally coming to thumb.  I can close my eyes and relive it. Hopefully forever.

The second source of inspiration was a line from Duncan Dobie’s fiction story.

Sometimes killing something isn’t always the best outcome… Mud and blood is a big part of hunting, but the things we get to observe in nature are often the things we cherish the most.

So that original topic for this space that changed at the last minute? It was the status of wild turkeys in Georgia, particularly on WMAs, and a growing concern not just that hens are raising too few poults, but a serious concern that the number of turkey hunters is dropping. It is an alarming decline in hunters, in my opinion, and it is a data point, for me, that is equally if not more important than the number of poults being hatched and raised. 

Turkey numbers and the number of turkey hunters is a topic that’s on our radar, to say the least, but for this month, let’s focus on how fun and how transformative being outside can be. 

Like Duncan’s story says, killing a gobbler isn’t everything. We can still get up early and find a spot along an old woods road and listen to the woods wake up. We can still hope to hear a bird rattle the woods, whether the season is open yet or not.

It’s fun. And for those who have never experienced it before, it will change you. Being out there, whether twitching a jerkbait or hoping to hear a gobble, is too important to miss.