To a man, and in some cases a woman, outdoors writers will affirm that finding a “lead,” an opening sentence or paragraph that lures readers into a story, can be as frustrating as finding a lure that leads fish into striking. Every so often, though, a lead or a fish is caught on the first cast. Accordingly, the idea and the lead for this column about recruiting older people into the ranks of sportsmen was landed when I received an e-mail from John Kozyra of Port Jefferson, Long Island, N.Y., who wrote:

“Tom, I want to tell you how much I enjoyed your books ‘Handy to Home’ and ‘Feathers ‘n Fins.’ They both gave me a solid appreciation for Maine nature and fishing and hunting. I believe I have missed an important experience not having been a hunter or fisherman; but maybe it’s not too late for me to start. One of my sons-in-law loves fishing and I know I can learn from him, and that he will teach me. It will be a good experience for both of us. Since I can only enjoy your work once a month now in the BDN, I’m happy to have your books to read whenever I want to feel good about people who love what they do in an environment they respect. Thanks again, John.”

Now there’s a man who, given the chance, would be a responsible, ethical, and respectable sportsman. Granted, programs to introduce kids to hunting, fishing, and trapping are paramount to protecting the outdoor traditions, cultures, and heritage treasured by Maine sportsmen. However, it would be a magnum mistake to overlook introducing older people who, owing to early retirements, buyouts, and the like, now have time to become interested in pastimes involving rods and guns and fish and wildlife. All they need is a proper introduction from the likes of you and me.

Obviously, and importantly, older recruits would be more capable than youngsters of defending the rights and privileges of hunters, fishermen, and trappers, which are being attacked nationwide. The forthcoming referendum to ban bear trapping and bear hunting with baits and hounds in Maine is an example of the anti-hunting, animal-rights activism aimed at the eventual prohibition of all hunting and trapping in this country. Anyone who thinks otherwise should read the position statements of the Humane Society of the United States and Fund for Animals, the out-of-state instigators of the bear referendum. The statements can be read on the Sportsman’s Alliance of Maine’s Web site, www.samcef.org; click on Bear Referendum Information.

As for finding older recruits, you won’t have to hunt hard. It’s likely that the wife of a recently retired friend has said to you pleadingly, “He’s driving me crazy. All he does is pace from one end of the house to the other and get in my way. Watching for the mailman is the high point of his day. Can’t you take him fishing or hunting or something? Anything, just get him out of here!” For his sake and hers, then, ask the lost soul if he’d like to travel a trail that isn’t posted with signs and traffic lights. Chances are, he won’t have to be asked twice, and it’s safe to say you won’t regret inviting him into your canoe or camp.

Nor will you be long in realizing that the recruit, let’s call him the newcomer, whose beard is getting gray is easier to guide than a novice who hasn’t begun to shave. Naturally, the newcomer won’t know a bow paddle from a stern paddle, but owing to the wisdom of the years, he knows that he doesn’t know. Better yet, long ago he figured out that impatience and impulsiveness were the originators of the adage, “Haste makes waste.” Also, when he catches his first fish he won’t stand up in the canoe and yell, “COOL!” and begin tossing high fives with both hands.

Nevertheless, you’ll have to keep an eye on the newcomer. In trying to assist you in some way, he may pick up your unlatched tackle box or, after coming ashore, step out of the canoe and lift the bow onto the beach while you’re sitting in the stern. As you may know, the latter scenario can be upsetting, no pun intended. But don’t let the newcomer’s embarrassment sour his introduction to the outdoors. Instead, display your quick wit and say something like, “Is that what you call tipping your guide?” With that, you may be reminded of the years-ago December dawn when, as a teen-aged duck hunter, you dropped the Thermos – actually it toppled from the pack basket you were carrying at an angle – onto a cement-slab boat ramp. But when the chilling sound of the liner shattering dropped the temperature another degree or two, your father quickly warmed things up with, “Well, no sense crying over spilled coffee.”

Allowing that what goes around comes around, in guiding the newcomer you’re sure to recall the outdoors addicts who took you under their wings a long time ago. Not to mention gaining an even greater appreciation of their patience and understanding. Maybe you can remember snapping the point off the blade of your grandfather’s hunting knife by throwing it at a stump behind the camp. And how about breaking one of the snowshoes – break one and you’ve broken both – borrowed from an uncle. Or, likewise, losing an oarlock.

Far be it from me, though, to point fingers. Speaking of uncles, well do I remember the time my uncle, the late John MacDonald, let me use his boat to fish Beech Hill Pond in Otis. Allowing that I was in high school, the experience was an early lesson regarding Murphy’s Law. All went well, that is until the outboard’s nearly empty gas can worried me ashore. But instead of hauling the boat onto the log slip in front of my uncle’s camp, I tied the bow line to the slip. Of course, the breeze swung the boat until, near shore, it hung onto one of Beech Hill’s behemoth monoliths, the top of which protruded slightly above the surface.

Although the boat was rocking a bit, I figured it was all right. So I went into the camp to get more gas and also stuck a sandwich together. What I didn’t figure, though, was how quickly granite would chafe through the boat’s smooth canvas skin. When my uncle arrived from work that evening, I took a deep breath and told him what had happened. But after inspecting the damage all he said was, “What good’s a boat with a hole in it?”

Shortly thereafter, I learned how to patch a boat with Ambroid Cement, a piece of old sheet and a coat of orange shellac. Never leaked a drop. Today, of course, canvas-covered boats are as scarce as bamboo rods.

Naturally, the newcomer won’t be as hard on borrowed equipment as a young novice. And if the newcomer does break something, he’ll probably replace it. Nevertheless, be judicious about loaning, say, a 20-gauge Model 21 Winchester to someone who has never stepped foot into a tangle of bird cover that would trip a goat. Or handing him an 8-foot Sage fly rod to stumble around with on the slippery rocks and brushy banks of a trout stream. It won’t make a bit of difference to the newcomer if the shotgun he tumbles his first partridge or woodcock with is an aged single-shot Stevens whose barrel is more gray than blue, or the rod he takes his first trout with is an old fiberglass Fenwick with frayed windings. What will matter most to him is your exclaimed “Good shot!” or “Nice fish!”

Granted, the knots and snarls the newcomer jams into fishing lines and decoy lines would make the Gordian Knot a cinch to untie. And it’s a sure bet that he’ll put the reel on backward and thread the line through the rod’s hook keeper. Moreover, he’ll display uncanny ability to hook the anchor line with his back cast and hit decoys dead center with full-choke charges of No. 4s. Here, a word to the wise is sufficient: If you take the newcomer ice fishing, bring extra sounders, a spare ice scoop, and don’t lend him your hook hone, clippers, or jack knife.

Let’s face it, introducing a newcomer to the outdoors is like letting a pup loose. Every sight, sound, and smell is fresh, fascinating, and demands investigation. So be patient with the newcomer’s innocent mistakes and continual questions, the way someone was with yours a long time ago. Besides, in answering and instructing him, you’ll be impressed with what you’ve learned and reminded of what you’ve forgotten. By all means, then, if you know an old dog, so to speak, whose pacing around his kennel is driving his wife out of her mind, take him out for a run. After all, when the kids are grown and gone and the house is as silent as the Sphinx, a woman deserves some time to herself.

Because March is kind of an in-between month as far as rummaging around in the outdoors goes, you may want to wait for April until taking a newcomer in tow. Then, you can take him smelting on brooks feeling full of themselves or tell him to brace his feet in a boat towing streamers in its wake or invite him to a soiree featuring the serenades and aerobatics of amorous woodcock. In the meantime, though, think about guiding a newcomer to the Penobscot County Conservation Association’s 66th annual Sportsman’s Show, March 19-21, at the University of Maine Field House in Orono.

Not only is the show a sure cure for the winter malady called “cabin fever,” it is also an ideal opportunity for the newcomer to experience the camaraderie common to hunters, fishermen, and trappers; and to recognize that the bonds of friendship forged on outdoor trails are unbreakable. Additionally, while strolling aisles lined with booths displaying sporting equipment ranging from traditional to digital, the newcomer will meet old friends that he hasn’t seen in years and make new friends that he’ll have for the rest of his life.

Given the chance, it wouldn’t be at all surprising if in leaving the show that is a welcome sign of spring hereabouts, the newcomer’s thoughts echoed the words of John Kozyra: “I believe I have missed an important experience not having been a hunter or fisherman; but maybe it’s not too late for me to start.”

Come to think of it, I’d be hard-pressed to find better words for closing this column.

Tom Hennessey’s columns and artwork can be accessed on the BDN internet page at www.bangornews.com. Tom’s e-mail address is: thennessey@bangordailynews.net