“Simon Peter went up, and drew the net to land full of great fishes, an hundred and fifty and three: and for all there were so many, yet was not the net broken.” -John 21:11 KJV
I spent most of the day Saturday clearing roads at our family’s tree farm. The fallen pine limbs and, in several locations, entire trees that had fallen during the February ice storm made the roads impassable in numerous locations.
Normally, I would have undertaken this project much sooner rather than waiting until the weekend before turkey season opened. However, one of the lingering effects of my bout with COVID-19 at the end of January has been fatigue. While my energy level has improved and I feel stronger each day, I am still not operating at 100%.
My reduced stamina caused me to miss an Osceola hunt the opening weekend in Florida. I returned my tag and made plans to make the trip next year, and after doing so resolved that I would not miss opening day here at home.
As I made my way along the roads on my four-wheeler, stopping to cut the downed limbs and trees into manageable sections and then dragging them from the road, my mind was filled with thoughts of the upcoming season. What kind of season would it be here at home? Would it be as good as last season? How was the hatch last year? Would we have any gobblers?
I thought a lot about a conversation with a friend from earlier in the week. He had been fortunate enough to harvest three gobblers last season, his first time to achieve that level of success. As we talked about last season and his “Mississippi limit,” he said, “I’m not going to be as crazy about it this season. I’m just going to enjoy each hunt.”
Wise words, I thought. With only a few seasons spent in the turkey woods, my friend had already progressed beyond the “limiting-out stage” of hunter development, an impressive feat for a relatively new turkey hunter.
His statement also brought to mind a selection from a book on fly fishing that I am reading about the competitive nature that resides inside each outdoorsman and outdoorswoman. I had read it earlier in the week, and after my conversation with my friend I continued to think about it in relation to my experiences as a turkey hunter.
In his philosophical work on fishing, “The River Why,” author David James Duncan gets to the heart of the competitive nature that often surfaces during our outdoor pursuits using a Biblical passage from the book of John.
The passage, John 21, focuses on the resurrected Christ appearing before his disciples on the sea shore while they fished. In the story, Simon Peter, Thomas, Nathanael, James and John were fishing, unsuccessfully, when Jesus appeared to them and told them to “cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.”
Following these instructions, the disciples cast their net and “were not able to haul it in, because of the quantity of the fish.” At this point in the story, they realize that He is Jesus, haul in their fish and head toward shore to see Christ.
It was only after reading Duncan’s book that I noticed (within a passage I have read and had preached to me many times) the fact that, at some point, someone within the group took the time to count the net full of “great fishes” that numbered, “…an hundred and fifty and three.”
Now, I firmly believe that since Jesus knew exactly where the fish were in the sea, he also knew exactly how many fish were in the net. With that said, I can only conclude (as did Duncan) that the disciples had within them the same competitive nature that resides within me (and you). Remarkably, they had just encountered the risen Lord and someone within the group took the time to count each of the fish — 153 is pretty exact.
So, what am I saying? First, I’m saying that I feel a little better about those years when I lost hours of sleep trying to get my third gobbler of the season — I mean these were the disciples! Second, and more importantly, I’m saying that the words of my friend earlier this week should serve as a reminder to all of us that we should savor the experience of each hunt, fishing trip or outdoor adventure.
Don’t let your desire to “get a limit” of anything overshadow the experience of your time spent alone or especially with others in the outdoors. Drink in every moment you have because each of those moments is a gift.
I hope that each of you has success with whatever it is that you are pursuing this spring. Make it a point to introduce someone new to the sport in the process and, until next time, I look forward to seeing you out there in our great outdoors.
Email outdoors columnist Brad Dye at braddye@comcast.net.
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