I wanted to have this column done last week, but I came in too late to finish it.

Has anyone else noticed that a trip to the outdoors always involves walking in the door at home about seven hours after the promised return time?

It seems a curious fact, but is a truth nonetheless. No matter how many pounds of intention you apply to the matter, you will always return after the appointed hour even if you have a wedding or funeral to attend. In my case, there is no doubt that someday I’ll come rushing into in the chapel, dripping creek water and arms full of fishing tackle, before dropping everything at the feet of the Minister and climb into the casket with apologies to all.

Realization of this problem came as I was once again dashing home this week, feeling vaguely guilty and driving at an excessive speed in a vain effort to locate a spot where I had a decent cellular phone signal. For the thousandth time, I had made iron-clad promises to return at a certain time but slid into the driveway an hour late to a dinner of hot tongue and cold shoulder.

The problem not only affects Yours Truly. It also afflicts those of my small outdoor social circle but it remains a matter of conjecture if this my fault or theirs. My wife has a wild theory on the topic, but I won’t share the ramblings of someone who builds a 36-hour time cushion around all social engagements.

I believe this problem is a universal marital complaint because many times I have called a friend’s home in the evening, only to hear something along the lines of “Oh, he went fishing this afternoon and was supposed to be home two hours ago. I’ve been in labor for over 12 hours, so I expect him at any moment.”  In this case, my friendfortunately made it back in time for the christening.

It is fairly easy to determine the root cause of all this lateness in the outdoors: the “one more” syndrome. The problem is a manifestation of the fact that the world keeps going on forever without clear-cut markers like the foul lines in baseball. The return time of an outdoor trip is usually decided upon prior to the jaunt but at the end of the day, we are tempted to stall because there is always one last bit of prime water or real estate begging for a final try. These last attempts often stretch minutes, sometimes hours and occasionally weeks as we endeavor to end the action on a positive note. Greed also falls into play somewhere.

It is interesting to note that many of the great mysteries of the last century also occurred in close proximity to prime hunting and fishing locations. For example, the Bermuda Triangle offers unbelievably abundant saltwater fishing, thus it is possible that many of the people reported missing are actually still out in the flats, saying “one last bonefish and then we HAVE to leave.” It won’t be too surprising if Amelia Earhart finally lands in Hawaii with a cooler full of sea bass.

Fishing accounts for perhaps the greatest total amount of tardiness, but hunting involves single larger incidents. While you might be a few minutes or an hour late from a fishing trip, if you are late from a hunting trip, you will often end up pictured on the side of a milk carton.

This is because hunting-related lateness is often the result of a mishap rather than simple choice. The mishap might be a good thing, such as field dressing a deer that was taken at dusk, or it might be the result of misplacing the car. In terms of tardiness, losing your bearings is a wonderful way to invest in several hours of lateness, not to mention the beneficial effects on the cardiovascular and respiratory systems as you sprint through rough terrain while shouting at the top of your lungs.

If you are an outdoor spouse who has accidentally stumbled on this corner, please try to understand the problem and not be too hard on those of us who suffer from the disorder. We don’t really intend to be late but once in the outdoors, time ceases to exist and before long the clock has become our tormentor- at least until we get home.

So now we will take a collective oath, swearing our allegiance to deadlines and promising to be home on time, every time regardless of how promising the next brushy draw appears or in spite of how fast the fish have suddenly started biting. We promise to be more conscious of the time and quit making excuses about our tardiness.

I’d like to continue with the pledge, but I’m late for a meeting.

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