I was on the telephone one day with an editor in Michigan. He was telling me about the outdoor happenings where he lives and there was that element of excitement in his voice. It’s the same when here in the South we say, “Saw a flock of thirty doves settle in old man Smith’s pasture last week,” or “looks like there’s not much of an acorn crop, so the bucks should be coming to the green fields real good when cold weather sets in.”

    We know what flocking doves mean to us here and how deer rely on plantings when the acorns are scarce. But I could not grasp the impact when my friend told me excitedly that the salmon were just beginning their run.

    I don’t do salmon. I don’t know salmon. Too bad. I want to know salmon. And if I ever get to fish in Michigan, perhaps he will introduce me to salmon fishing and I will like it and then I will dream of the salmon run.

    We miss too much of the wonders in the outdoors as it is. And showing others the outdoor riches in your area or the methods of your participation in the ventures is an activity I rate among the best of life’s opportunities. Sharing has brought me plenty of good times afield.

    When I moved to the Rocky Mountains, I needed help understanding the movements and other habits of elk, mule deer, antelope, moose, bear and both blue and sage grouse and how to hunt them successfully.

    A friend took me with him on scouting trips, bow hunts and rifle hunts for years until I learned about elk. Those experiences bonded the two of us. This friend is an exceptional artist. A dozen years after our last hunt together before I moved away from Colorado, he gave me a print of one of his wonderful art pieces, a bull elk and his harem surrounded by the gold and red and green of autumn in the mountains we hunted. And he wrote on the painting, “I enjoyed all our times together and hope we can add to them.” He was teaching me on those trips. It was fun for both of us.

    Another friend took me to his favorite antelope flats one opening morning in Wyoming. At dawn’s first light, I saw a herd nearby and suggested we head their way. But Don knew something I didn’t know then; that any antelope you can see when you are in the open has already seen you and you are not about to sneak up on him. He led me to the top of the ridge where we both laid flat while he crawled up to the rim overlooking a basin. Don peeked over the rim, lifting his head as slowly as ribbon cane molasses pours on a frosty morning.

    He motioned me forward with a hand hidden behind him. I crawled into place and shot my first buck antelope before sunrise. As the small herd scattered, Don dropped one of the departing speedsters and we concluded our hunt before breakfast.

    While living in the mountains, I was able to show Don and another buddy how to call wild turkeys. The marvelous Merriam’s turkeys inhabit the cold slopes of the Rockies. These birds are just like our eastern strain of wild turkeys we have here, except for plumage coloration and habits dictated by the geographical area they inhabit. The gobblers respond to the same calls we use here.

    In the first 60 or so years of last century, western hunters shot wild turkeys from deer stands or while stalking deer or elk in the fall. So gobblers were harvested with high powered rifles, usually at long range. When I introduced my friends to spring calling for lovesick gobblers and bringing them within shotgun range,  they were hooked immediately. Our annual hunts in Wyoming, New Mexico and Colorado were planned and carried out with as much enthusiasm as our elk hunts.

    When I moved away from those mountains, my two buddies gave me an engraved trophy which proclaimed that I was a “world class turkey hunter and trainer.” I didn’t remind them that all Southern turkey hunters call birds into shotgun range. It is old hat for us; nothing world class about it. But I accepted and still have the trophy.

    They had learned a really challenging and satisfying way to hunt their birds, and I had learned how to negotiate and appreciate their beautiful mountains and stalk their game animals.

    Sharing. It is a win win outdoor activity. It makes sense, and it makes lasting outdoor friends.