Gifts that last a lifetime

As a boy growing up on the edge of a southwestern desert I took an early - and seemingly out-of-place - interest in hunting and fishing.

A friend who was similarly afflicted and I would take our Red Ryder BB guns out into a weedy field and shoot grasshoppers.

When the hoppers wouldn't hold still, we took up wing shooting. Ever tried to shoot a grasshopper on the wing with a BB gun? We'd waste an afternoon and a dime's worth of BB's for two or three grasshoppers apiece.

That first BB gun was waiting under the tree, unwrapped, on my eighth Christmas.

My dad told me the BB gun was, in fact, a real gun and that there would be no transgressing the safety rules that came with its ownership. I was proud that my dad thought I could be trusted with a real gun, and didn't want to let him down.

That Christmas gift consisted of more than a BB gun. It was a hallmark, in a way, by which my dad acknowledged that his son was growing up. And the boy grew because of it - he grew in his sense of responsibility; he valued the trust extended to him by his father.

That was the first of several gifts that have lasted for a lifetime.

When I was about 12 and an avid reader, I spent my weed-pulling money on outdoor magazines: Field and Stream, Outdoor Life and Sports Afield. I idolized some of the outdoor writers: A. J. McClaine, Ray Bergman, and my special hero, Ted Trueblood.

That Christmas my mom started her tradition of a gift subscription to Field and Stream. Considering how my life has turned out, that gift was life-changing. Like my heroes in the magazines, I wanted to become a writer.

Mom knew - she understood those parts of me better than I thought she did.

Every month, when my new issue of Field and Stream arrived, I'd get lost in it for days. I'd read of Ted Trueblood's fishing and camping adventures. Robert Ruark's monthly stories printed in a series called "The Old Man and the Boy" gave me a grandfather I wouldn't know in real life as Ruark recalled life-lessons he learned hunting and fishing with his grandfather.

The boy in Ruark's stories, as they progressed over several years, was about my age. I didn't have a grandfather of my own, but was eager for the grandfather's wisdom - and as a grown man with grandchildren of my own, I revisit Ruark's grandfather often.

For most of my adulthood my mom put a gift wrapped box of shotgun shells under the tree every Christmas. I put them to effective use.

There were pheasants taken from the fence lines, and ducks called in over decoys that fell to those shells, calling on skills I developed as a boy wingshooting grasshoppers with a BB gun.

When the family moved closer to trout waters during my late teens, fly fishing became my passion. My dad gave me a Shakespeare Wonderrod fly rod, a 7' lightweight fiberglass beauty with a sweet action. That rod is still a favorite companion on my visits to small streams.

As my own sons grew up, I tried to equip them with things at Christmastime that went beyond toys and playthings.

All of these gifts were delivered with the understanding on my part that the gift came with further obligation from me - there would be instructional sessions and fulfilled promises of trips to come. That led to the bonding that would become a greater gift for both of us.

If there is a young person in your life, try giving the gift of the outdoors.

It can take the form of a piece of camping gear, a box of flies, a gift certificate for a day of fishing with you (and make sure you deliver!) or anything else that holds the promise of time outdoors - where a youngster's sense of awe, excitement, and wonder can combine to spark valuable inner growth that will show later, in other ways and other places.

Outdoor gifts that are given with that lifetime perspective can be the most meaningful that a young person might receive.

I know. I grew - and my life changed with those gifts. I hunt, fish and write. I remember that Christmas years ago whenever I fish my 7' Shakespeare fly rod, I still read and re-read Robert Ruark, and still have my Red Ryder BB gun.