Bringing the outdoors in

By Tom Bryant

Traffic was backed up for miles on the inner beltline of Raleigh, so I decided to take country roads home to Southern Pines. Big cities seem to be getting bigger every time I have to visit one, and today was no different. On this trip to the metro, I had met a couple of friends I worked with in the newspaper business. It was a great reunion. We sympathized with each other on our personal aging problems as well as the problems the newspaper industry is experiencing. After a couple of cups of coffee and an hour or two of catching up, we hit the road to get back to our respective home bases.    

I angled my route over the backroads toward Cary and then decided to cut across country to Lake Jordan for a quick look-see. But first, since it had been a long time since my bowl of breakfast cereal, I pulled into a handy McDonald’s right outside the city limits for an early lunch. I was in luck because just as I entered the restaurant, a church bus pulled up and unloaded a bunch of youngsters. They appeared to be in their early teens, so I grabbed a table in the back corner to be out of the way. I had the morning issue of the News & Observer, so
I kicked back with my biscuit to catch up on the Raleigh news.        

As expected, the young folks came in with all the enthusiasm only they can have, especially when they’re hungry. I couldn’t help but overhear that they were on a field trip to the Capitol to see and be seen with the legislators. At a glance, it seemed as if each one had a smartphone and was constantly checking for important information or messages.

The technology that has changed the way newspapers do business was in evidence right there in McDonald’s. There I was, an older guy, not quite a geezer but on the way, reading a hard copy of a newspaper; and there they were, a bunch of young folks engrossed in their smartphones. It was a living testament to how times have changed.

These young folks reminded me of the time I was invited to speak to an eighth-grade class about the beauty of nature. It was a project dreamed up by the school to emphasize the importance of the outdoors. Even back then, school administrators understood that kids were spending too much time inside, watching TV and playing video games. That early encounter with those eighth-graders was the first inkling I had that the new generation was growing up differently from anything I had known.

A few more hungry customers came in the door, and the young folks moved as a group to the center of the restaurant. I was surprised at how subdued they were, and all but two, that I saw, were engrossed in their phones. The two kids who weren’t, a boy and a cute petite girl, carried on a conversation, laughing and smiling all the while. The contrast between the couple and the rest of the group was very evident. There are a few hanging on, I thought. The couple with no phones in sight would have fit right in with the eighth-grade class I visited many years ago.         

There were 30 or more students in that classroom, and it was just before lunch, so my time was limited. The young teacher introduced me and returned to her desk. I looked out at all those youngsters who had so much living yet to do and wondered how many had spent any time at all in the outdoors. So I asked, “Raise your hand if you’re in the Boy Scouts.”

About five boys tentatively put up their hands.

“OK,” I said, “how many of you young ladies are in the Girl Scouts?”

No hands went up.     

I decided to use a different tact. “How many of you have ever been fishing, hunting, camping or hiking, anything at all to do with the outdoors?” I was amazed at how few raised their hands.

“Well, I guess I have my work cut out for me. I’m supposed to get y’all interested enough in the birds and bees for you to spend more time away from the TV.”

The birds and bees comment brought on a little snickering in the back rows.

“Not that kind of birds and bees,” I laughed. I had gotten their attention.  A boy sitting close to the front raised his hand. “Mr. Bryant, one time when I was a lot younger, my granddad took me duck hunting.”

I looked at him with a glimmer of hope, thinking that here was a boy I could relate to.

He continued, “I not only about froze to death, but I was bored stiff. We didn’t see a duck all day.”

The class erupted with laughter. The teacher looked over at me with raised eyebrows.

I’m losing these people. What’s the best way to respond to this little whippersnapper? I thought about bringing the beauty of sunsets and sunrises into the conversation. I had even emphasized that in my notes, but that wouldn’t work; these kids have seen too many nature documentaries on TV.

OK, I figured I had one last chance before the teacher took her class back and dismissed me.

I walked around to the front of the lectern. “All right, folks,” I said. “I’ve left my speech back there. Just give me a little attention, and I’ll let you get out of here early for lunch.” That perked them up. I looked at the young fellow who gave me the duck hunting story. “I’m going to tell you about one of my duck hunts.

“It was Thanksgiving weekend, really just a couple of years ago. I was out early Friday morning at my special duck hunting spot not too far from home. It’s a beautiful undisturbed area with all kinds of wildlife and one of my favorite locations. Unfortunately, we’re losing these places all too quickly to development. So-called progress, I reckon. I have a small duck boat I use for hunting, one that will nestle right close to the creek bank; and on this morning, I was hunting alone because my old hunting dog, Paddle, had died the year before. She was a yellow Lab and a great retriever. We hunted together for 14 years and I still miss her.”

The class was paying more attention and I continued. “On this morning I didn’t really expect to have a lot of luck because of the mild weather, but I just wanted to be in the woods. I pulled the boat under alders growing from the bank and watched as the sun came up over the lake. Canada geese had roosted out in the big water the night before and were calling in preparation to head to the fields to feed. Mixed in with their calling, I could hear an unusual whistling noise coming from up the creek. A black bear had recently been sighted in the area, and not knowing what the whistling was, I hunkered down in the boat.”

I had the class now. They were all paying attention, and I finished the impromptu lecture and watched as the students were dismissed and filed out of the room heading to lunch. Several of them thanked me for the story.

The teacher gave me kudos for my talk. I don’t know if they were deserved or not, but I told her I had enjoyed the experience.

As I packed up to leave, the young guy who had duck hunted with his granddad stood by the classroom door, and as I walked out into the hall, he said, “Thanks, Mr. Bryant. I’m going to see if my grandfather will take me duck hunting again.” 

That youngster made my day.  PS

Tom Bryant, a Southern Pines resident, is a lifelong outdoorsman and PineStraw’s Sporting Life columnist.

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