OnStand : The Sportsman's Watchdog

I have to admit it; I’m converted. Following in the tradition of converts everywhere; I need to shout it out loud!

I used to be a purist, that is, a purist in the way I viewed the outdoors – and a purist in my belief of how they should be used.

Not anymore.

I’ve been twisted, turned and spit back out and now I sit here convicted of excess‚Äôs in reckless rhetoric.

You see I used to believe that the outdoors was a place for man and animals. But never, mind you, never, ever, machines.

I’ve changed my mind.

There, I said it!

I had this change of mind not quite so suddenly as Saul on the road to Damascus but nonetheless, as the not so trite saying goes, better late than never.

I was injured some time ago and, though I soldiered on, I was never the same in the woods as I’d been before that injury. I couldn’t throw my pack on and go for a jaunt in the wilderness on a whim – though I admit that I tried a few times.

To make a long story short, I injured my back and that affected the nerves in my legs. As any woodsman knows, when the legs go so have the wilderness walks.

But now, now that I’ve been converted to the wonderment of new age technology Рwell, new to me, anyway – I am like a bird who’s been released from captivity after rehabilitation. I feel free again!

For the first time since my legs first buckled out from under me, I can grab my rifle and go.

I never questioned the wisdom of banning snowmobiles and ATV’s from national parks or designated wilderness places. Though it was explained to me that I might just be missing the point, I was one of those who thought the mountain stillness was spoiled by the sound of a motor rumbling by.

I wasn’t worried about pollution in the air; I was more selfish than that. I didn‚Äôt want my hunt disturbed.

I had been moping about the house for quite a while when my wife suggested that I get my butt back outside this winter. I looked at her with surprise knowing that she, of all people, should have figured out that winter was a time to sit by the fire and sulk about times gone by.

“Get a snowmobile,” she said.

“What!” I exclaimed. “A snowmobile? The hell you say.” My voice rose in pitch.

“You used to have fun in winter,‚Äù she said. “Now go and mope no more!”

So I did.

I took my five-year-old daughter out for a ride, then two. She had fun. I had fun. Lo and behold we were soon out of sight of humanity!

The next time out, I packed my coyote call and my rifle. Away I went. I’d like to tell you that no one saw me for the rest of the winter but it hurt to ride the sled after a while. But I was free! It was worth the pain.

I could now go and hunt, I could slip out in the woods and lose sight of people, home, and my troubles for quite some time. I might hurt when I got back, but for a day or two at least, I was able to live like a hunter.

Now it’s spring here in the woods of western New York. And again, I’ve found religion in the form of ATV’s.

I have a good friend who rides his ATV for fun and hunting. I called him up and arranged for a checkout ride because I’d never ridden a four-wheeler before.

Was I surprised?

Once again, technology came through for me. My friend Bill took me out and showed me just what these amazing machines can do.
We rode in remnants of a late spring storm. Twenty-four inches of snow had been dumped the week before and it was melting fast in the 60-degree heat. That spring-melt water was rushing down the creeks and ravines, cold and deep.

It didn’t matter. We rode.

We went up creeks with water coming over the running boards and climbed the banks hundreds of feet high. By the time we completed our little tour I was drenched, covered in mud and exhaustively cold. I was also thoroughly excited about my renewed prospects for hunting.

Hell, I am mobile again!

You cannot imagine my thrill in being able to put civilization back in my rear view mirror.

My long-held beliefs about these marvelous machines have been transformed. Apparently they are good for something besides splitting the sound of silence.

After you get where you’re going you can always turn them off and, once again, quiet will reign in the mountains and woods.

These machines have their place in the outdoors. For some of us, that dreaded rumble of modern technology is our only ticket to the stillness so many others take for granted.