I’ve never been a big fan of New Year’s resolutions. It’s not that my life couldn’t stand a few alterations; less of some things, more of others, and even the elimination of certain foibles, but these are changes that can be made at any time of year. My preference and practice since I turned 40 a number of years ago has been to set certain goals in early January and try very hard to survive another year to achieve them.

For those readers unfamiliar with the fine distinctions between resolutions and goals, let me tender my personal interpretation. Resolutions in general are supposed to make a person more healthy, wealthy or wise, usually at the expense of many of life’s little pleasures. Which is the main reason most New Year’s promises have the life span of cheap china during an earthquake. Goals on the other hand, especially those set by sportsmen, might improve physical, financial or mental well being but will most certainly increase personal pleasure, satisfaction and enjoyment on every outdoor venture.

Mentor more

During my younger years a great deal of my time and effort afield or afloat went into improving my own cast-and-blast abilities. My focus was on catching the largest fish, producing the most convincing calling while waterfowling or tagging a big buck, but somewhere along the line my priorities shifted. Fun and friendship moved to the forefront and mentoring others began to provide extra satisfaction. Be it tying a fly, building a blind, setting a decoy spread or tracking a whitetail, teaching a youngster or novice some tricks and reveling in their success have become as important as my own accomplishments.

This past year I introduced a friend to smallmouth bass fishing, and just like the fish we boated, he, too, was hooked. An old high school buddy moved back to the area after 30 years away, we crossed paths, he expressed an interest in duck and goose gunning and we enjoyed several great outings with many more to come. A longtime hunting companion brought his 10-year-old son for a goose hunt, and like my friend from high school, the youngster got his first goose with me. Even the banded honker I bagged didn’t offer the pride and exultation of helping my rookie companions down their premier Canada goose.

During 2008 I’ve made up my mind to shepherd two anglers and two shooters into new aspects of each sport, more if I’m able. One friend will be going tarpon fishing with me, a desire this veteran caster has expressed for several seasons, and another acquaintance will finally get to hook an Atlantic salmon this spring while sharing my canoe. And if all goes well, I’ll entice a couple of kids away from video games and introduce them to camping, canoeing and casting in Maine’s great outdoors. If each rod and gun buff could share their knowledge and enthusiasm with just one other person, young or old, both parties would benefit from the effort.

Change is good

I’m going to try very, very hard to avoid complacency in my sporting activities this year. When a particular fly pattern or lure works regularly, when a certain lake or stream always provides a few fish or when a favorite gun or rod yields dependable results, change is difficult. A few years ago when most waterfowl gunners were clamoring to buy semi-auto 10 gauges or 31/2-inch 12s, I reverted to an over-and-under 12 gauge that shoots only 3-inch shells. My shot selection has improved, my calling and decoy sets have become more effective to coax geese and ducks closer and fewer birds are wounded. It has been a ball, and when I manage to shoot a double, it’s a true two-shot double.

Last summer I made a change in my bass fishing tactics as well. I’d gotten into a rut, albeit a fairly successful one, using mostly a spinner and plastic grub or a Tiny Torpedo topwater plug. Dave Ash, an occasional bass casting buddy, joined me for a late spring outing and proceeded to boat two or three smallies to my one, and for the most part his fish were larger. Finally, after working my way through several bait changes to no avail for a couple of hours, I gave in and asked what he was using.

Dave produced a bag of Gary Yamamoto Senkos, a 6-inch sparkle-flecked, flavor-impregnated sinking plastic worm that comes in a couple of dozen colors. This bait can be fished at any depth and requires a unique rod and wrist action to impart a lifelike movement through the water and, when fished properly, drives bass crazy.

Within an hour I was convinced and used this setup throughout the rest of the season in a variety of weather and water conditions on lakes and streams with constant success. I steadily caught more and larger bronzebacks in general and shared the secret with several boatmates who also profited from the changeover. My ultimate reward was my largest ever smallmouth from the Penobscot River, a water I’ve fished regularly for a dozen years. That prize, just shy of 5 pounds, is in the competent hands of taxidermist Roger Adams of Hermon, who will create a mount to help remind me why change is good.

How about you? Isn’t it time to investigate some new whitetail woods or partridge covers? Perhaps a new type of rifle or shotgun shell will make you a more proficient shooter. I changed my goose call this fall from my faithful Olt 800 of 20 years to a new short-reed model. My camouflaged companions as well as flock after flock of honkers approved of the change. Maybe it’s time for a new gun or rod, some new fly patterns or just a few new woods or water haunts. A new year deserves some new adjustments and adventures for every outdoorsman.

Picture this

If you didn’t enjoy at least one spectacular exhibit of Mother Nature at her best last year, you’re just not spending enough time afield or afloat. On two different occasions I gazed upon double rainbows. I saw nine moose in one small meadow and two young bulls were play sparring. One cool morning a thick haze lay low over the Matapedia salmon river yet the shorelines were clear, giving the impression of two flowages, one of water and just above the other of ethereal mist. I could barely make out the form of my guide in the front of the 24-foot canoe, but a fine silver leaper could and did see my fly, and although I never saw one of its five wild leaps, I heard the splashes and felt each jump through my fly line.

Sometimes my camera wasn’t unpacked and ready, other times it wasn’t with me at all. Isn’t that when the most unusual or memorable sights occur?

Another goal for the New Year is for one of my four cameras to be at hand all the time, be it boat, truck or shank’s mare! One truly exhilarating experience drew me to this objective, and by sheer good fortune I did have a camera along to document the show. On my way to duck hunting, driving not two miles from my house, I spotted a bird atop the scraggly limbs of a near-dead tree. Closing the distance I realized this was far too large to be a hawk, so I stopped and got a digital camera ready, knowing all the while that if in fact this were an adult-size eagle it was unlikely to allow me close enough for a photo.

Not only did I get to take photos from my vehicle along the road, I walked within 60 yards of the majestic bird to capture its regal image. Rather than chance scaring my patient model by moving closer, I hoped for at least one decent photo and left the big bird in peace. At least a dozen cars passed by during this episode and not one spotted the eagle or stopped to see what was going on. I ended up with a few good pictures and a reason to make sure to always carry a camera. How many times last year did you think or utter the phrase, “Oh, I wish I had a camera with me.”

And also

I’m going to spend more time outdoors, especially when there’s no need to carry a rod or gun, but I’ll have my camera. There’s to be more time spent at my fly-tying bench this winter, and some evenings at my reloading bench as well. My tackle boxes will actually be reorganized and restocked before the season arrives for a change.

I’ll dig out some of my photo albums and relive past cast-and-blast ventures. There’ll be successes and sorrows, pleasure and pain; some of my dearest, closest outdoor companions remain with me only in the images frozen in time by the camera. Sometime and somehow I will fish two new waterways during the next 12 months and I will hunt one new region, perhaps in Maine, possibly another state or country.

Remember, change is good.

I’m going to read more and watch television less. I’m going to spend more time listening and less time talking, no small achievement for one who so enjoys telling tall tales. I’m going to catch a sailfish on a fly rod – or not, but I’m sure going to try. I’m not going to buy any more guns, unless something really new and unusual becomes available – or my resolve weakens, which is quite likely.

Now, do you see why I shun resolutions in favor of goals? I’m not sure who coined the age old phrase “The road to hell is paved with good intentions”, but I’ve got enough issues without starting every New Year by making promises I can’t keep!

Goals on the other hand, now any clever sportsman can mold and model a few hopes, wants and wishes into some tolerable objectives for 2008. If all the accomplishments aren’t achieved, well then there’s always 2009. Outdoor friends will understand you and your family and dogs will tolerate you regardless of your goals.

Here’s wishing you all health, happiness, and more time Upland and Downstream in the New Year.

bgravesoutdoors@ainop.com