Post by cambygsp on Oct 26, 2005 5:52:44 GMT -5
www.indianastatesman.com/vnews/display.v/ART/435efa0de13f2
Outdoor reality television portrays ‘fake’ hunting, fishing scenarios
In the field, on the lake
by Chris Jennings
October 26, 2005
With no football on television during the week, I find myself repeatedly scanning through over 500 channels searching for something that intrigues me. Aaaaah, the Outdoor Life Channel. I stop smashing my finger on the channel button just long enough to catch a glimpse of a man in camouflage. Surely, there is something on the Outdoor Life Channel that interests me, an outdoor enthusiast.
After watching Billy Joe and Tommy bass fish in Mexico, Tim and Gerry turkey hunt in Texas and Billy Joe and Tim team up for an elk hunt in Montana, I'm spent. I just can't handle any more bad acting and perfect hunts.
For once, I want to watch an outdoor show that shows the slightest bit of realism. Maybe next time, Tim will go deer hunting and not be sitting in a tree stand watching 60 deer in a field. A successful hunt for me is when I see one, not when I pick the largest buck out of 25 bucks that are standing right next to me.
Being an avid hunter and fisherman, I should be the guy who loves to watch these shows, but I can't. I can't sit there and watch some guy shoot a deer from 350 yards away that is nibbling at a feeder. An hour later the same guy will go duck hunting, sitting around 500 decoys, of which he didn't carry one, while letting some other guy call and shoot ducks. Come on now; is this what we want non-outdoors people to believe this is what it's all about?
I am going to invite the outdoor channels to go with me one time. We would arrive at Turtle Creek Reservoir for a duck hunt in late December. My luck would kick in and my camera crew and I would get last pick of the 33 blinds on the lake.
As we put the boat in, I would more than likely slip on the boat ramp and tear a hole in my waders, immediately allowing the 34 degree water to fill up the entire right leg of my waders. I would have to rush back to the truck and change before I lost my toes to frostbite or hypothermia sets in. So far, it's been an average day.
We would set up our decoy in the dark because I dropped my flashlight in the lake while unloading the decoys and my batteries conveniently went dead in my spotlight. As shooting time rolls around, every other group on the lake would begin shooting, and we would watch as the ducks flew high over our heads, well out of range. The ducks wouldn't respond to my calls, and we would never take a shot. The motor wouldn't start once we were ready to leave, so we would have to get towed back by a fellow hunter who just happened to be leaving early because he already had a limit of birds.
The cameras would still be rolling when I slip one more time on the icy boat ramp, tearing a hole in my hunting jacket. I would explain to my viewers why I have to chip ice from my winch that managed to freeze solid in the short time we were in the field. While we are loading the boat, my dog would find the biggest pile of some other dog's droppings, and roll in it, covering his entire 115 pound body from head to toe with fresh pap. Luckily, the camera guy wouldn't mention it, and I would just open the door and let him in the back seat. For the hour drive back to Terre Haute, I would explain to my faithful viewers the importance of staying positive in the field, while gagging from the smell of my dog.
After I change the flat tire on the trailer, and five hours after we left the boat ramp, I would return home to a full day of putting away decoy, cleaning and winterizing the boat and motor, and giving a dog a bath when it is 30 degrees outside. So, 15 hours since I left my house for the hunt, it's time to go inside and sit down on the couch.
Birdless, cold and smelling like wet dog, I settle down on the couch to watch some guy on television shoot mallards down in Texas wearing short sleeves and Raybans. The guy doesn't call, he doesn't have to carry any decoy and it's not his boat.
Am I jealous of the tan guy shooting mallards in Texas? Not at all, because if it were that easy everyone would do it. Plus, when I do put a bird in the bag, I know I've earned it myself - that's makes the hunt so much more important to me, and that's what makes me turn it off and head to bed early, so I can do it all over again tomorrow.
Outdoor reality television portrays ‘fake’ hunting, fishing scenarios
In the field, on the lake
by Chris Jennings
October 26, 2005
With no football on television during the week, I find myself repeatedly scanning through over 500 channels searching for something that intrigues me. Aaaaah, the Outdoor Life Channel. I stop smashing my finger on the channel button just long enough to catch a glimpse of a man in camouflage. Surely, there is something on the Outdoor Life Channel that interests me, an outdoor enthusiast.
After watching Billy Joe and Tommy bass fish in Mexico, Tim and Gerry turkey hunt in Texas and Billy Joe and Tim team up for an elk hunt in Montana, I'm spent. I just can't handle any more bad acting and perfect hunts.
For once, I want to watch an outdoor show that shows the slightest bit of realism. Maybe next time, Tim will go deer hunting and not be sitting in a tree stand watching 60 deer in a field. A successful hunt for me is when I see one, not when I pick the largest buck out of 25 bucks that are standing right next to me.
Being an avid hunter and fisherman, I should be the guy who loves to watch these shows, but I can't. I can't sit there and watch some guy shoot a deer from 350 yards away that is nibbling at a feeder. An hour later the same guy will go duck hunting, sitting around 500 decoys, of which he didn't carry one, while letting some other guy call and shoot ducks. Come on now; is this what we want non-outdoors people to believe this is what it's all about?
I am going to invite the outdoor channels to go with me one time. We would arrive at Turtle Creek Reservoir for a duck hunt in late December. My luck would kick in and my camera crew and I would get last pick of the 33 blinds on the lake.
As we put the boat in, I would more than likely slip on the boat ramp and tear a hole in my waders, immediately allowing the 34 degree water to fill up the entire right leg of my waders. I would have to rush back to the truck and change before I lost my toes to frostbite or hypothermia sets in. So far, it's been an average day.
We would set up our decoy in the dark because I dropped my flashlight in the lake while unloading the decoys and my batteries conveniently went dead in my spotlight. As shooting time rolls around, every other group on the lake would begin shooting, and we would watch as the ducks flew high over our heads, well out of range. The ducks wouldn't respond to my calls, and we would never take a shot. The motor wouldn't start once we were ready to leave, so we would have to get towed back by a fellow hunter who just happened to be leaving early because he already had a limit of birds.
The cameras would still be rolling when I slip one more time on the icy boat ramp, tearing a hole in my hunting jacket. I would explain to my viewers why I have to chip ice from my winch that managed to freeze solid in the short time we were in the field. While we are loading the boat, my dog would find the biggest pile of some other dog's droppings, and roll in it, covering his entire 115 pound body from head to toe with fresh pap. Luckily, the camera guy wouldn't mention it, and I would just open the door and let him in the back seat. For the hour drive back to Terre Haute, I would explain to my faithful viewers the importance of staying positive in the field, while gagging from the smell of my dog.
After I change the flat tire on the trailer, and five hours after we left the boat ramp, I would return home to a full day of putting away decoy, cleaning and winterizing the boat and motor, and giving a dog a bath when it is 30 degrees outside. So, 15 hours since I left my house for the hunt, it's time to go inside and sit down on the couch.
Birdless, cold and smelling like wet dog, I settle down on the couch to watch some guy on television shoot mallards down in Texas wearing short sleeves and Raybans. The guy doesn't call, he doesn't have to carry any decoy and it's not his boat.
Am I jealous of the tan guy shooting mallards in Texas? Not at all, because if it were that easy everyone would do it. Plus, when I do put a bird in the bag, I know I've earned it myself - that's makes the hunt so much more important to me, and that's what makes me turn it off and head to bed early, so I can do it all over again tomorrow.
