Camaraderie and the outdoors: Friendly competition with ‘seniors’ and ‘young pups’

I’ve always appreciated the great outdoors and the countless wonderful friends who have come with it.

Actually, the older I get, the more I cherish the "friends" part and the less I’m concerned about the numbers and size of fish and animals harvested.

That's just the way it goes for the majority of outdoorsmen and women.

I often speak with and see social media posts from thousands of younger anglers, hunters and outdoor enthusiasts in general across Newfoundland and Labrador who express their genuine love and appreciation of nature’s numerous offerings. And, by younger, I’m talking about teens to late 30s.

I honestly love hearing and reading those comments. I sometimes say to them, “trust me when I tell you it’s going to become even more enjoyable year after year, and the bonds you form will be immeasurable.”

I would go as far as to say at least 75 per cent of the friends I have today have developed, whether directly or indirectly, through various outdoor activities and events. This is part of the reason I look forward to every adventure, particularly hunting and fishing.

And so it was recently when Tony Vinnicombe and I met up with our Spaniard’s Bay buddies, Kevin Porter and Johnny Dyke, for six hours of snowshoe hare (rabbit) hunting near Bellevue on Newfoundland’s Avalon Peninsula.

As expected, it turned out to be one of countless small but genuine examples of prime outdoor camaraderie, good-natured ribbing and all.

It just seems to come naturally for the majority of Newfoundlanders and Labradorians. It’s who and what we are, and I have been so deeply proud and blessed to be part of our province’s outdoor fraternity for about five decades.

Our latest mini adventure began with a Facebook chat on a Wednesday evening:

Kevin: “You fellas heading off rabbit hunting anywhere Friday?”

Tony: “Yup, going to try Bellevue.”

Kevin: “Who’s going with you?”

Gord: “You and Johnny, if you want.”

We met in Whitbourne, exchanged handshakes and the "half-hug" thing that men do these days, then headed to one of our “spots” along Route 201.

“Will this be the Townies against Baymen again?” Tony asked.

“How about me and Johnny against you seniors,” Kevin jokingly suggested, referring to the fact that I’m just two years from 70 and Tony is 66, while the lifelong friends from Spaniard’s Bay are just 46 years old.

“Challenge accepted, you young pups,” Tony laughed.

As indicated earlier, numbers were not important to either of us, though it did add a little incentive to the day ahead.

Surprisingly on this relatively mild morning, scenting conditions did not make for an action-packed day of hunting and howls from the hounds as we had anticipated, especially when we took the first hare shortly after letting the dogs loose.

It was more than an hour before we shot the next one, then there wasn’t a bark from either of the four dogs for more than 90 minutes.

Tony, Johnny and I decided to push through thick woods in hopes of driving a rabbit out, or at least getting the dogs to follow and hunt around us.

“Where are you, Kevin?” Tony asked on the radio.

“I’m on the path,” Kevin answered.

“Oh yeah, right on,” Tony shot back sarcastically. “We’re tearing ourselves up going through the woods and you’re having a nice, casual walk along the quad trail. Don’t hurt yourself now, buddy.”

Of course, that got all of us laughing.

About an hour later, we were walking along a boggy section of another trail when a thick mudhole sucked the boot right off big Johnny’s foot. He hopped around, while his buddies found great amusement in his predicament, until he managed to grab the top of the knee rubber and haul it out.

We slowly hunted our way back out and managed to bag a couple of more rabbits. Then, just 10 metres from the road, I slipped on a thin layer of ice and fell back into another deep, muddy part of the trail.

Kevin turned around and began taking photos of me trying to get back up while everybody roared with laughter, then he took a tumble and landed on his butt, mumbling something about “karma” while getting back to his feet.

I couldn’t get my phone out fast enough to return the favour by taking photos of him on the ground.

We only managed four hares in total, but it was another truly wonderful day in the woods.

Who won our friendly competition, you ask? Why, the seniors, of course. We got all four. I potted the first one early and Tony followed with a hat trick over the next four hours.

We didn’t rub it in too much, because you never know. Next time it could be Kevin and Johnny skunking us.

Doubt it though.

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