As the calendar joins other old papers in the tinder basket, we are required by the U.S. Column Writer and Bartender Guild to write a year-end retrospective. Buckle up your safety harness and helmet as we wade back through the previous 52 weeks of Out in the Open.
January- The high point of the month was a solitary hike through Hemlock Cliffs State Nature Preserve in southern Indiana. The hike was noteworthy because the weather was horrific, bordering on ghastly, but to our surprise the day proved not only memorable but even pleasurable. I later received several emails from concerned readers recommending good psychotherapists who are experienced in the treatment of masochism.
February- One column served as a cautionary tale for youngster’s intent on entering the high-powered world of bait selling. I pointed out that a tank full of week-old dead crayfish hidden in your garage is more dangerous to the bottom line than shady accountants or high interest rates. It’s not real pleasant for your personal bottom line, either.
March- One week we covered outdoor first aid kits. Wholly based upon the field research of Yours Truly, this column is now used as an emergency medical textbook by several trauma centers.
April – My children, brother and his son visit a haunted ruin that used to be a famous mineral springs resort. I later realized that such trips can be dangerous, but only after my wife and sister-in-law read the column. It is a good thing I didn’t write about our hike in a haunted train tunnel the following week.
May- We go mushroom hunting with our friend Don. During the trip we discover he is rather excitable when finding a mushroom and also has a very healthy set of vocal cords. Ken and I ended the trip with a long discussion on the proper construction of a shallow woodland grave.
June- The highlight of the month was a vacation spent casting for trout in the Smoky Mountains. I mentioned being frightened by a large black bear that turned out to be a large black stump in the gray predawn. In response, one reader sent an email describing his embarrassment upon stopping the car to show his family a dead snake in the road that turned out to be a broken fan belt. That makes two of us.
July- This month I was suddenly horrified to realize that I was pining for another camping trailer. Given that a decade earlier our previous aluminum shanty on wheels nearly destroyed our marriage, my sanity, our van, my finances and several state park picnic tables, I could only conclude that I must be suffering from heat frustration or low spinal fluid.
August- This month we visit Florida for perhaps the worse camping trip ever. Actually, it was wonderful until the last morning when I awoke to a monsoon outside the tent, four inches of water inside and my friend Jeff standing over me with a look on his face similar to that frequently seen on the front of slasher novels.
September- On an impulse, I take a week vacation and return to the Smoky Mountains to explore the back roads in my wife’s brand-new sport utility vehicle. The result of mixing a brand new vehicle with barely-existent U.S. Forest Service roads and one bulldozer trail was not good. I spent the following week on my old familiar friend, the couch.
October- This month was full of activity but the column that garnered the most mail was a simple description of a night walk I took as a whim one evening. While I considered the work merely a decent column, it seemed to strike a very positive chord with readers who considered it evocative and even poetic. Many accuse me of purchasing the column from a ghostwriter.
November- The most memorable column was a simple catalog of the miseries that accompany sitting in a deer stand. This also struck a chord, or more appropriately, a nerve with readers. It also allowed me to get the term “Butt Tingle” past the editor.
December- On the day of my birth, now four decades past, I penned a column describing the ten lessons I have learned in the outdoors during that time. Starting with “Mother Nature is really a sadistic killer,” I ended the column with “Sometimes, the outdoors simply isn’t fun.”
However, I pointed out that for all the misery, cold feet, chafing, fear and bad camp food, there are those occasional moments when things work out. The unbelievable sunset, the perfect campsite, the trophy fish instantly erase all those other moments when we’re ready to throw in the crying towel.
From my perspective, it seems like a pretty fair trade. In fact, I’m going to endeavor to write another 52 of these columns, the good Lord and the kindly Editors willing.
Peace- B.W.
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2005- Year in review
Posted by Brent on 12/28/09 • Categorized as Out in the Open columns
January- The high point of the month was a solitary hike through Hemlock Cliffs State Nature Preserve in southern Indiana. The hike was noteworthy because the weather was horrific, bordering on ghastly, but to our surprise the day proved not only memorable but even pleasurable. I later received several emails from concerned readers recommending good psychotherapists who are experienced in the treatment of masochism.
February- One column served as a cautionary tale for youngster’s intent on entering the high-powered world of bait selling. I pointed out that a tank full of week-old dead crayfish hidden in your garage is more dangerous to the bottom line than shady accountants or high interest rates. It’s not real pleasant for your personal bottom line, either.
March- One week we covered outdoor first aid kits. Wholly based upon the field research of Yours Truly, this column is now used as an emergency medical textbook by several trauma centers.
April – My children, brother and his son visit a haunted ruin that used to be a famous mineral springs resort. I later realized that such trips can be dangerous, but only after my wife and sister-in-law read the column. It is a good thing I didn’t write about our hike in a haunted train tunnel the following week.
May- We go mushroom hunting with our friend Don. During the trip we discover he is rather excitable when finding a mushroom and also has a very healthy set of vocal cords. Ken and I ended the trip with a long discussion on the proper construction of a shallow woodland grave.
June- The highlight of the month was a vacation spent casting for trout in the Smoky Mountains. I mentioned being frightened by a large black bear that turned out to be a large black stump in the gray predawn. In response, one reader sent an email describing his embarrassment upon stopping the car to show his family a dead snake in the road that turned out to be a broken fan belt. That makes two of us.
July- This month I was suddenly horrified to realize that I was pining for another camping trailer. Given that a decade earlier our previous aluminum shanty on wheels nearly destroyed our marriage, my sanity, our van, my finances and several state park picnic tables, I could only conclude that I must be suffering from heat frustration or low spinal fluid.
August- This month we visit Florida for perhaps the worse camping trip ever. Actually, it was wonderful until the last morning when I awoke to a monsoon outside the tent, four inches of water inside and my friend Jeff standing over me with a look on his face similar to that frequently seen on the front of slasher novels.
September- On an impulse, I take a week vacation and return to the Smoky Mountains to explore the back roads in my wife’s brand-new sport utility vehicle. The result of mixing a brand new vehicle with barely-existent U.S. Forest Service roads and one bulldozer trail was not good. I spent the following week on my old familiar friend, the couch.
October- This month was full of activity but the column that garnered the most mail was a simple description of a night walk I took as a whim one evening. While I considered the work merely a decent column, it seemed to strike a very positive chord with readers who considered it evocative and even poetic. Many accuse me of purchasing the column from a ghostwriter.
November- The most memorable column was a simple catalog of the miseries that accompany sitting in a deer stand. This also struck a chord, or more appropriately, a nerve with readers. It also allowed me to get the term “Butt Tingle” past the editor.
December- On the day of my birth, now four decades past, I penned a column describing the ten lessons I have learned in the outdoors during that time. Starting with “Mother Nature is really a sadistic killer,” I ended the column with “Sometimes, the outdoors simply isn’t fun.”
However, I pointed out that for all the misery, cold feet, chafing, fear and bad camp food, there are those occasional moments when things work out. The unbelievable sunset, the perfect campsite, the trophy fish instantly erase all those other moments when we’re ready to throw in the crying towel.
From my perspective, it seems like a pretty fair trade. In fact, I’m going to endeavor to write another 52 of these columns, the good Lord and the kindly Editors willing.
Peace- B.W.
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