OBSERVATIONS FROM THE GREAT NORTH WOODS

Season’s greetings from Baymen Land…! I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving and are looking forward to the Christmas season upon us. I love Thanksgiving when the whole family can sit around the table and give thanks to God for all things. And I love Christmas when the whole family is together again, and we can give gifts to one another in celebration of the birth of Christ the Savior.

But right now, inbetween the “seasons,” I am already missing autumn and unsure about winter. This past fall, I hunted up north for p’atridge, woodcock and snowshoe hare with my ten year old puppy, Daisy-Mae. To say she was on her mark, would be an understatement. She will forever be “the finest beagle I have ever owned.” Family dog, hunting dog, and faithful companion. This will sound corny, but she and I connect on a level I never thought possible with a dog. We are like two best friends – especially when we go on hunting trips.

After my striper season was cut short with a dislocated shoulder this past fall, I headed north to hunt. It was truly glorious to be in the mountains of northern New England in all it’s splendor. Many times, I felt like I was walking through a painting by Eldridge Hardy, David Maass, or Ogden Pleisner. It was truly a spiritual experience. I always feel close to God when I alone in the woods or on the water. I plan to head north once again for muzzle loader season this December, in hopes of getting a deer.

Back here at home, I can’t stay way from the bay. My shoulder is still on the mend and I have been unable to duck hunt for the first time in my life. Hauling a boat, pulling achors and setting out decoys are out of the question. I have never missed a duck hunting season until this year. But I am still looking around the bay every day, glassing for puddle ducks, sea ducks, geese and I am always fascintated by the many seals. I try to imagine what it must of been like to be a Pilgrim or Indian, sneaking along the bay and trying to spear or shoot a seal that my family depended on for survival. I am glad I don’t have to hunt to survive. But I think I would of made a pretty good Pilgrim or Indian.

Fishing and hunting here on the bay and fishing and hunting up north are quite the contrast. Its nice to get away but its always nice to come home. Two massive differences when I go up north is the lack of people and the huge tracts of wilderness. I can hunt for days on end and never see another soul. It is a step back in time and the realization that life here on the Mass coast moves at a much quicker pace. It is also very crowded here on the Mass coast compared to up north. Progress is a good thing but when I go north, I am not so sure. People depend on wood for heat and the simple things of life are highly valued. A good knife, a good gun, and a good fire are still daily needs. In the north woods, when you see another human coming down a dirt road, you don’t wave and say “how are you?” and keep going. You stop and talk. If you are in a car, you put it in park and shut the engine off. And you talk, genuinely and never in a hurried manner. Hunting and what you have seen is always the first topic. From there, the respect and admiration of “the land” is high on the locals topics of conversation. After that, family and politics are discussed and then it usually ends with a list of chores that got to get done and an open invitation to drop in anytime you are in the area. And they sincerely mean it. Hunting and logging are important ways of life up north and it is refreshing to talk of such things with mutal respect and admiration. Try engaging somebody here on the Mass coast about either, if they’ve got the time, and see how long it takes to be told they don’t approve. In some ways, perhaps many ways, we are out of touch with reality and culture here in southern New England. We live good lives and many have everything they wish for, but we also tend to live in a cacoon.

It has been a fun experience this past fall to bounce back and forth like a ping-pong ball, between nothern and southern New England. It has been good to step out of my cacoon and stretch my wings. I have driven my old pick-up truck into the mountains and met new people and learned old ways that are still the way of life. Places long forgetten by “progress,” where time moves at a slower pace, and what you drive, where you live, or how much money you make doesn’t really amount to much.

So, this season, I am thankful for the great life and great bounty I have here in Southern New England. But I am also thankful for my brothers of the great North Woods that have tolerated this “white-plated” “flat-lander” with only the mildest of suspicion.

Wishing all my customers and friends the warmest of wishes for a very Merry Christmas.

Sincerely,

Capt. David Bitters
BAYMEN
www.baymenlife.com