The following is the opinion and analysis of the writer:
Richard Kyte
A friendly gesture, a kind word, or a warm smile can change your day. Sometimes, coming at an unexpected moment, it can change even more.
A few years ago, my brother and I were embarking on a late-season duck hunt in northern Minnesota. A cold front had just arrived, pushing bluebills down from Canada, and we were headed for a remote lake in Superior National Forest. There was no boat landing, just a spot at the end of a gravel road to launch a canoe or kayak. Few people knew about it, so chances were good we would be the only hunters there.
We set off about three hours before sunrise, giving us plenty of time for the hour-long drive and the paddle across the lake to the point of land where we planned to hunt. That point of land was the only concern. If another hunter had already claimed it, there was no other good spot for setting up a decoy spread. It was the point or bust.
As the headlights broke the darkness around the last bend, our hearts sank. An old pickup was parked at the end of the road. A large decal displayed the words “Redneck Romeo” across the rear window. We cursed. Who was this yahoo? We got out of the truck, walked to the shoreline, flashed a spotlight out over the water, and waited for a response. Nothing. No lights anywhere on the lake. Maybe he wasn’t there after all.
We got the kayaks into the water, strapped on the decoy bags, and set off. The crescent moon provided just enough illumination to make out the silhouette of trees in the distance. A couple of times, we flashed a spotlight in the direction of the point, just to make sure no one was there. No response.
We were close now, about 30 yards from shore, when my brother’s kayak bumped into something. We both switched on our headlamps. Looking around, we saw that we were gliding through an immense spread of decoys. A friendly voice called out from the darkness. “Good morning! You want to hunt with me?”
It is hard to convey to the non-hunter just how unexpected this greeting was. Hunters on public lands tend to be fiercely protective of any area they claim for the day. They can be all smiles and laughter after the hunt, sharing stories alongside the pickup or over a beer at the local tavern. But that’s after. Intruding on someone else’s territory during the hunt is the original sin of public land hunting. I’ve witnessed plenty of confrontations over the years and have been involved in too many of them.
If you ask hunters, confrontations have increased considerably over the past few years. As technology makes access to remote areas easier, competition for those prime locations intensifies. Mud motors, ATVs and satellite mapping apps have all done their part to change the game. Those secret spots in remote locations that few can get to or even know about are a thing of the past. Now it is all about getting there first and claiming rights. And that has strained relations.
I have been showered with shotgun pellets numerous times as duck hunters set up too close on opening weekend. I’ve had a deer hunter on an ATV drive deep into the woods down a hiking trail, right up to my tree stand, only to stop and complain about how he hadn’t seen any deer. I’ve had anglers on trout streams walk up to fish just a few yards upstream of me, either oblivious or not caring that they were cutting me off. The list goes on and on.
After a while, you begin to expect rude behavior. You look upon every stranger as an intruder and take steps to warn them off before they get too close. So, when you turn out to be the intruder on another hunter’s spot, and they don’t yell at you to go away but invite you to join them, it comes as a shock.
Bad behavior by hunters reflects a societal-wide increase in rudeness. A Forbes survey found that road rage increased 135% from 2018 to 2022. A study from Portland State University found that workplace incivility is on the rise. And research from the University of New Mexico shows that rude behavior is contagious. The more one experiences or even witnesses rude behavior, the more likely one is to repeat that behavior toward others.
But the flip side of the rudeness contagion is that kindness is also contagious. When we go out of our way to be considerate, the people we treat well are more likely to convey that same attitude toward the next people they encounter.
My brother and I spent the morning hunting with our new friend, a young man who had just moved to the area. I don’t remember how many ducks we harvested that day, but I remember the bitter cold and the warmth of telling stories over steaming cups of coffee poured from a Thermos.
Every year as hunting season rolls around and I set out in the early morning, hiking into the woods or paddling across the marsh in the darkness, I think about Redneck Romeo and the way he changed my expectations. Maybe today I can be the one who welcomes the stranger, the one who begins with a smile, a friendly gesture, a kind word.
Every morning begins in darkness, but you never know when the sun might rise upon a new friendship.
