Gobble, Gobble … Blam!

It's that magical time of year when glorious fall colors glow with iridescence in sparkling sunlight, when crisp air carries the first wisps of smoke from wood stoves and fireplaces, when flocks of migrating geese whistle and honk through the night – and when the hills are alive with the blast of shotguns.

Those of us who prefer to hit the trail armed only with trekking poles and digital cameras should now add one apparel item to their outdoor wardrobe – a vest emblazoned with international orange, the universal message to guys in Elmer Fudd hats: "Please don't shoot me."

I've used this forum previously to take aim at hunting in general – going against my better judgment by antagonizing guys with weapons – and realize my opinion carries about as much weight with the Field & Stream crowd as a BB gun does against a charging rhinoceros.

I've also taken pains to avoid tarring all hunters with the same brush, since my experience has been that for every Rambo trophy hunter there's at least one thoughtful, conservation-minded woodsman simply trying to put food on the table. I've hiked, kayaked and enjoyed various other outdoor activities with a few hunters, and for the most part we've agreed to disagree about the merits, or lack thereof, of their pastime.

However, one aspect of hunting (besides the obvious downside of slaughtering a living, breathing creature) has always stuck in my craw: the government's role as accomplice in a blood sport.

Last week the hunting season for wild turkey opened in Connecticut, which would not be possible if the state hadn't launched a stocking program in the 1970s that has swelled the estimated population to 35,000-38,000 birds.

I enjoy wild turkeys – even the tom behind my house that periodically wakes me at 5 a.m. with his mating gobble – and ordinarily I would applaud efforts to re-introduce a wild species that had been all but wiped out in the post-Colonial era. But the main purpose of the stocking program has been to provide hunters with game.

I'd almost rather have no wild turkeys than flocks propagated for fodder.

And while the birds can be wily and elusive, most of the ones I've seen waddle contentedly in plain view while foraging for food, are targets every bit as easy as the proverbial fish in a barrel.

Speaking of piscine programs, I might as well alienate another genre of outdoor enthusiasts and carp about a related pet peeve: fish stocking.

Also last week the Connecticut Department of Energy and Environmental Protection released 100 salmon and trout into the Shetucket River at Sprague River Park in Baltic – a small fraction of the tens of thousands of fish raised in hatcheries and set loose elsewhere every year, only to be snagged later by fishermen's hooks.

Again, I'd feel a lot better about government programs to expand fish populations if I didn't suspect the primary goal was to satisfy fishing interests rather than to enhance biodiversity.

As long as I'm getting government-sanctioned animal "harvesting" off my chest, one more gripe: Why should the state establish such a Byzantine code that regulates everything from the caliber of bullets to the use of decoys in an apparent effort to make hunting more "sporting?"

If you're going to allow – more accurately, encourage – people to kill animals, why try to "legitimize" the practice by making the game more difficult, as if forcing hunters to tramp through the woods and hide in the bushes somehow levels the playing field. Why not force them to hunt blindfolded, or with nothing but a jackknife?

Better yet, how about permitting only mano-a-paw hunting?

Oh well, like the wild turkey I've indulged in a flight of fancy.

Watch your backs, hikers. Remember, sometimes its quiet out there – too quiet.

Reader Comments

MORE BLOGS

Once Again, Pink Gloves (Plus a Clever Signal) Help Save The Day At The Josh Billings Runaground Triathlon

"On your left!" Phil Warner shouted from the bow of a tandem kayak, racing toward a buoy during the paddle leg of last Sunday’s Josh Billings Runaground Triathlon in Lenox, Mass.

It's Swallow Time Again On The Connecticut River

Early Thursday evening was a magical time to paddle on the lower Connecticut River near Lyme.

Rocks In Their Heads Again: Another Bunch Of Idiots Knock Over An Ancient Stone Formation, This Time In Oregon

"Every now and again people do something so monumentally destructive, dimwitted and dishonorable it belongs in a class of disgracefulness normally reserved for trophy hunters ... It’s almost as if they wake up one morning and say to...

Who Needs Bug Zappers When Dragonflies Are On The Prowl?

Citronella candles, bug zappers, insecticides – people go to elaborate and often poisonous lengths to combat mosquitoes, deer flies and other nettlesome insects as we move into the steamy weeks of late summer, but I’ve been letting...

Life's A Beach: Eavesdropping In The Sand

"Sweetie, do you know what that is?" No response. "Look at that bird! You know what they call it?" Still no response. "It’s a seagull!"

Surf’s Up! Hanging Ten In A Kayak

All right, technically my buddy Spyros "Spy" Barres and I weren’t hanging 10 toes off the end off boards while riding waves at Westerly’s Fenway Beach on Thursday, but we were surfing.

I'm Always Chasing Rainbows

All of us who have ventured atop mountains, out to sea, or simply into a nearby park have occasionally faced Mother Nature’s wrath – a sudden thunderstorm, pounding blizzard, gale-force winds, locusts …

Loading Your Backpack: Less Is (Usually) More

Some years ago, preparing to hike the Hundred Mile Wilderness – the final stretch of the fabled Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine, I stuffed my backpack with what I initially considered to be the absolute bare minimum for a week in...

Sun, Sun, Sun Here It Comes (Enough Already!)

When I was a kid, the Fourth of July was one of the year’s high holy days, right up there with Halloween and the last day of school, because that was when my parents took my sister and me to the beach for the annual fireworks...

How To Build An Adirondack Chair Out Of Skis In 14,387 Easy Steps

Many people I know share my passion for outdoor recreation but I also have a little secret: Between rounds of kayaking, hiking, gardening, wood-splitting and other activities I also savor the simple act of lounging quietly on a sunny day in a...

A Comedy – And Nearly A Tragedy – Of Errors On Maine's Saddleback Mountain: In The Age Of Cellphones, A Failure To Communicate

A refreshing breeze cooled me despite a blazing late-afternoon sun as I scrambled up the final rocky slope to the 4,121-foot summit of Maine’s Saddleback Mountain earlier this week, but I paused for only a moment to gaze at the glorious,...

Gardening Is Simple! Just Stick Stuff In The Ground And Voila! A Cornucopia Of Fresh Veggies! (Right)

Anyone who has ever attempted to grow vegetables soon realizes it is a true labor of love, with particular emphasis on the labor.