The Outdoor Scene

There’s Women’s Equality Day. And National Mammography Day. Even America Recycles Day. What do these diverse celebrations have in common? All were proclaimed with the goal of creating awareness - of women’s suffrage, the need for regular breast examinations and the importance of recycling. As women who are passionate about wildlife, there’s another day we should heed, National Hunting and Fishing Day.

Formalized by Congress in 1972, NHF Day is held the fourth Saturday of every September to promote outdoor sports and conservation.  This year, the celebration takes place Sept. 26.

Denise Wagner, NHF Day coordinator for the last four years, said the effort started off as a way to thank sportsmen and serves that purpose to this day.

“Nobody does more for wildlife conservation than hunters, anglers and recreational shooters. Through license fees and the excise taxes they pay on firearms, ammunition, fishing equipment and motorboat fuel, sportsmen and women support wildlife restoration and management. Every 30 minutes sportsmen contribute $100,000. That adds up to $1.75 billion per year.”

You aren’t likely to hear that upbeat report from the pretty people who read the evening news. I don’t know if the reason is it doesn’t fit the “crisis, catastrophe, conflict” model that most newsrooms use or if the people who gather and write the news just don’t like hunting, fishing and sport shooting. Maybe both. Fact is, complaining about the lack of coverage about the good things sportsmen and women do doesn’t solve a thing.

Instead, we need to make a commitment to take it upon ourselves to tell this story at the grassroots level. Be proud of your contribution to conservation. Tell your neighbors, doctors, co-workers, Facebook friends and tweeps. Your passion and knowledge can go a long way in enhancing the image of everyone who totes a bow, firearm or fishing rod afield.

NHF Day is an ideal tool for the job. First, you can brush up on your facts regarding how hunters, anglers and shooters have restored and conserved wildlife populations. Visit the NHF Day Web site at http://www.nhfday.org/ and see the facts section under the “Hunting and Shooting” and “Fishing” tabs. You’ll sound super smart at your next barbecue when you tell your friends that hunters and shooters have paid more than $5 billion in excise taxes since 1939, money that’s been used to restore white-tailed deer, wild turkeys, elk, pronghorn, wood ducks and more.

NHF Day honorary chairman and country music’s rising star Luke Bryan is another great conversation starter. You’ll have people thinking about hunting and fishing every time they hum one of his top 10 hits “All My Friends Say” and “Country Man.” Bryan, a Georgia native, is perfect for the job of growing awareness of what hunters and anglers do for conservation. During an interview he said “I don’t remember learning how to hunt and fish—just like I don’t remember learning how to talk. It was just a natural thing in our family. Part of our lifestyle.”

Denise also recommends that you attend one of the hundreds of events taking place across the country on National Hunting and Fishing Day. Heck, go crazy and invite your friends, too. You can find events at the NHF Day Web site or call your state wildlife/natural resources agency.

Or do your own thing. There are no rules on how to celebrate NHF Day. Michigan’s Becoming an Outdoors Woman coordinator took a group of women out on a pheasant hunt last year. Even if you take out one newcomer for a day of fishing, shooting or hunting and tell them about how these activities create jobs and boost our economy, you’ll be moving the needle.

Feeling ambitious? You can also host an event. Get involved with one of the conservation organizations at this link http://www.nhfday.org/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=51&Itemid=68 to get the tools and guidance you’ll need to throw one heck of a get-together.

Don’t let Sept. 26 be just another day on your calendar. Make a plan now to Hunt. Shoot. Fish. And share the pride.

The growing list of sponsors for National Hunting and Fishing Day includes Wonders of Wildlife, National Shooting Sports Foundation, Bass Pro Shops, The Sportsman Channel, Realtree, GunBroker.com, Hunting Heritage Trust, Cabela’s, Boone and Crockett Club, Smith & Wesson, Field & Stream/Outdoor Life, Woolrich and Yamaha.

While I never laid eyes on a gobbler this weekend or even heard one for that matter, I did witness a hen party. For over an hour and a half, two hens fed in front of me, clucking softly. Perhaps they were exchanging tips on the best places to nest or gossiping about some Romeo gobbler off chasing strumpets. I don’t know. When I tried to join the conversation, though, they ran their heads up and stared at me. Guess they had no interest in discussing the shortcomings of retail offerings for female hunters.

You, however, had some things to say on the matter. Last week, I shared what I considered to be an idyllic retail experience for women who were shopping for hunting clothes and gear. I am not alone in thinking we’re a demographic that deserves to be taken seriously. Several of you sent emails or posted comments and I’m sharing some of the responses.

All ye retailers, listen up.

Cat had this to say:
Wouldn’t it be nice to see several brands of clothing, camo patterns, etc., in a store front? I think many stores don’t carry product because it doesn’t sell (mostly because it isn’t displayed or advertised!) — a vicious cycle. Of course, there are never sales on women’s hunting attire either. They carry so little stock, there’s nothing left over ‘after season’! Everyone knows how much we like a sale.
Honestly, I’m tired of shopping in sporting goods only to have the clerk ask me “who” I’m buying a gift for.

A reader from Louisiana added to what a model store would offer:
 This is a subject that comes up every year while I and my best buds have “Girls Week” at my lease. Every year during turkey season, we spend a week without husbands, dogs, kids/grandkids just hunting turkeys and having the times of our lives. This subject comes up every year and every year we improve our fantasy. Our store would include hunting clothes for plus size “girls,” a little café where women shoppers could get together and tell the stories of their hunts; we will call it “the bragging place.” We, too, would have a section for boots in women’s sizes only and also a section for just trying and sitting on a huge selection of hunting stools or chairs. And the sales associates would have to take a precise training course and be tested on the products we offer. 
 
Cara had a recent retail experience that left her wanting more:
I either had that same dream/experience a few weeks ago when I was shopping for some hunting apparel for an upcoming Montana turkey hunt.  I first encountered the condescending clerk, and next was the one who did not have a clue.  The only high point was I found a great pair of Danner hunting boots (women’s boots) that were on clearance for 75% off.  When I asked why they were on clearance, I was told they will no longer carry these women’s boot because they claim there is not a female market. Go figure. However, I scored on a great pair of boots, which made me feel a little better.
   
Beth’s quest for brush pants hit a snag:
I live in Alabama and when upland bird season came around a couple of years ago, I went to our newly opened Bass Pro Shop.  I was sorely disappointed. There was one rack with maybe 6 pairs of brush pants for women on it.  I was pointed to the men’s section to find a new pair of brush pants.  I’m not built like a man. I complained to the clerk and then to the general manager and got nowhere.

Karen is concerned about high prices:
Years ago I at least had the option of ordering reasonably priced women’s hunting clothes from Cabela’s, but that no longer seems to be the case. I have found She Safari and Foxy Huntress clothiers that offer a variety of women’s hunting clothes with an extremely high price tag.  If you are anything like me, I would rather go on another hunt or pay one more trophy fee than pay outrageous prices for the clothes.

Shauna refuses to hunt in camo lingerie:
I’m so tired of wearing little boys hunting clothes, it’s ridiculous…The thing that gets me, even when you search online for women’s hunting clothing, the vast majority of results are for things like camo nighties and thongs!

The world is changing. Marketers everywhere predict those who continue to cling to old ways are doomed to fail. Clearly women are an underserved market. Isn’t it time to do something about that?

When you’re waiting for a gobbler you’re sure is going to show up, there’s plenty of time for deep thoughts. And last Saturday, thinking was a dire necessity. It was the only thing keeping me from falling into a sleep deprivation-induced coma. Well, that and my neck snapping every time my head bobbled around.

Usually, we pull our clean, comfy trailer to hunt camp. However, a detour to Atlanta for a family Easter celebration caused us to leave our camper at home, go native and stay in our tent instead. With thunderstorms threatening, Wes and I decided at the last minute that we needed to spend the night in …gasp… the Blair Witch Camper. The BWC is really an aging Airstream that hasn’t been used in several years. Scary in the sheer number of dead bugs that litter every surface, it also carries the unmistakable stench I call “moldy basement.” So between worrying about storms and the possibility I would end up like the bugs in the BWC, I slept about 20 minutes over a 7-hour period. And not all at once either.

Having seen three turkeys the evening before, I was more than happy to bail out of the BWC and head to my “spot” so early that only the whippoorwills and barred owls were chatting. The magic time, when every bird within earshot makes darn sure they’re heard, had come and gone without a single gobble. I figured the boys had hens and thus no reason to sound off. No worries. Sooner or later, they always seem to show up at their favorite strut zone. So I waited. And ruminated.

Recently, I’ve read a couple of Seth Godin books, Tribes and The Purple Cow, so I felt inspired to consider what remarkable contributions could be made on behalf of women who love the outdoors. And one thing struck me in particular. While there are specialty shops for quilters, cooks and clothing that fit women who are tall, short and curvy, there’s a shortage of hunting stores just for women.

Yes, I know conventional wisdom says retail space for women in a hunting store doesn’t pay the bills. However, women’s hunting clothes usually have been displayed using a “Where’s Waldo?” approach. It’s as if all retail strategy goes out the window if the product is women’s hunting clothes, despite the fact one would assume retailers know quite a bit about female shopping habits.

So, while waiting for toms, I conjured up a retail fantasy for women hunters. The store would carry women’s hunting clothes from all the manufacturers. I’d be able to see deer hunting, turkey hunting and upland bird outfits modeled on mannequins. I could try on clothes in roomy fitting rooms where the lighting was friendly to the 40 plus crowd. I could slip my feet into and “test hike” several different brands and styles of boots.

Here’s the kicker. Many retail experiences are a letdown because the service is abysmal. I once asked a young sales associate why one tree stand was $30 more than the model next to it. Both looked the same to me and apparently they did to the sales clerk, too, because he shrugged his shoulders and said “I don’t know” as he walked away. No cha-ching for that cash register.

In my fantasy store, the sales staff would be pleasant and knowledgeable about hunting. Unlike other retail experiences, I’d gamble that extraordinary service would actually be good for the bottom line, and I’d compensate sales associates accordingly. Rather than distractedly point to a display of duck decoys, they would actually walk you over to them. And if you had a question about how to work rattling antlers, they would patiently show you. There’d be none of that condescending “well, little lady, you can’t shoot a turkey with a 20 gauge, you need a submarine-launched ballistic missile.”

Eventually, this marketing dream could be expanded to women who fish, target shoot, kayak, camp and any number of other outdoor sports. It also could take the cyber world by storm with the most astonishing outdoor Web site just for women complete with video tips, product reviews and of course, free shipping.

So, what do you think? Did the lack of sleep addle my brain? Post a comment or email me your opinions at <tammy@womensoutdoorwire.com>.

If I was psychic, I might have understood the meaning behind the fecal calling card left by a coyote on the wooden platform we use to step into our camper. Being in a glass-half-full mood, I decided it was meant to warmly express “welcome to hunt camp!” While setting up camp for our inaugural adventure of the 2009 turkey season, we also ran across evidence a hen had stopped by to leave her salutation as well. So had the deer. Okay. So maybe this wasn’t the work of a greeting committee. Instead, our camp site had become a wildlife doo doo station.

Seeing turkey sign was actually good, though, since that was the quarry my husband Wes and I were after. And where there are hens, there are gobblers. So I set up on Saturday morning with great expectations. I had killed many a gobbler from where I sat and was feeling pretty confident. As dawn began to break, it was like God had turned up the volume. Every bird residing in mid-Georgia began to make a racket. I heard pileated woodpeckers. Canada geese. Barred owls. Blue Jays. Crows. A red-tailed hawk. Wood ducks. And songbirds of every stripe. But not a single gobble. Nary a yelp, cluck or fly down cackle. That figures. They poop near my crib and then won’t talk to me.

The next morning, I set up in the same place. Except instead of a bluebird day, there was a far off storm making some noise and sending up fireworks. It had started to gently rain and as I debated whether I should stay or go, I heard it. Music to my ears. The gobble of the wild turkey. Like little kids who wet their pants because they’re having too much fun to quit, I settled in for the show.

Fortunately the storm was short lived but the gobbling wasn’t. I threw out a sexy series of yelps and clucks and that’s when it happened. The henervention. This situation is much like an intervention. Except the hen, in no uncertain terms, yelps back “kiss my tailfeathers” before she stalks off to intercept the gobbler. So, I’m sitting there, like a fool, listening to the gobbler as he moves farther away. Oh well. It was time to go and anyway, I really was about to wet my pants.

There’s always next weekend, I told myself. But it feels like waiting for recess when you’re a second grader in math class. But maybe that’s what I love about turkey hunting. It brings out the kid in me.