Hunting And Fishing With Jo, Part 2

By Brandon Jewett

Editor’s note: This is part two of a story written by Brandon Jewett of Yakima about hunting and fishing with his dynamo of a daughter, Jo. We’re serializing it in four installments this week. Part one ran on Monday – see nwsportsmanmag.com.

NOW THE REAL CHALLENGES STARTED. The hunting and fishing part – I know how to do that. But how do I teach them to my child? How do I make it fun all the time? How do I make the slow days as fun as fast days? How do I answer the trillion and a half questions? And just how many snacks do I have to bring?!? 

I started to stress a bit. I realized I had some questions to ask myself and others, some more learning to do, and some overtime to work.

Yes, overtime. I’ll explain.

Earlier, I reminisced on my first hunt. I remember my dad pretty much let me have the day. I packed my own pack, dressed myself, decided when we were going to leave and so on. So I decided that’s what I would do: I would just let Jo call all the shots. Would you believe me if I told you she’s one of the biggest hard-asses I’ve ever worked for? We needed to be up at first light. Everything had to be packed and in the truck the night before because that would leave more time for breakfast. ALL of the stuffed animals were going, or I wasn’t going. Take it or leave it. There would be music, and singing. If at any point Jo needed a snack, all other activities would cease. However, before any of this could happen, we had to go to “the hunting and fishing stores.” 

I have purple everything. Purple bait, purple poles, purple tackle boxes and purple backpacks. Purple earmuffs, purple shirts, socks, purple gloves, purple boots and a purple BB gun. I have purple camouflage.

Yes, there is such a thing as purple camouflage.

I have a strongly worded letter in to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife practically begging them to implement fluorescent hunter’s purple in the state. This is a decision based on emotion and not science, therefore, I’m entirely confident the vote will pass unanimously and go into effect immediately. You may as well buy a hunter’s purple vest now.

I have purple everything. Purple bait, purple poles, purple tackle boxes and purple backpacks. Purple earmuffs, purple shirts, socks, purple gloves, purple boots and a purple BB gun. I have purple camouflage.

Yes, there is such a thing as purple camouflage.

–Brandon Jewett

I also have three boxes of 16-gauge shells and don’t even own a 16-gauge. 

“They’re PURPLE, Daddy!”

“Honey, Daddy doesn’t have a 16-gauge.”

“Buy one,” demanded the tiny voice that commands my heart and wallet. Overtime. 

ONE OF MY BIGGEST ISSUES with how kiddos are introduced into the outdoors is kid’s clothing. Here is my take on this: I’ve seen kids sitting in the front of small boats during springer season at the Wind River getting absolutely pounded by wind and rain while their dads sit there in the best cold-weather gear money can buy. I’ve seen kids trudging through knee-deep snow during elk season in wet blue jeans and bargain-rack boots. The typical excuse is, “They are just going to grow out of it.” I guess you won’t have to worry about that when they don’t want to go anymore because they suffered hypothermia at a young age and developed an utter hatred for salmon fishing, elk hunting, and probably a resentment towards one or both of their parents that will develop into major issues in their teenage years.

Just saying.

Jo grows at an alarming rate, but she is still going to be in comparable gear to what I’m wearing. There is nothing that will deter a kid from the outdoors faster than being cold and wet. We don’t like it as adults, and there is no excuse for your child to suffer through that. That is not fun. Yes, the blue jeans and flannel argument is still out there, and yes, we know, you can kill deer in blue jeans and flannel. We’ve all done it. However, there have been major advancements in hunting clothing in recent years.

Nowadays, manufacturers are finally making it for kids – comfortable layering and waterproof systems that allow them to stay warm and dry and out in the woods or on the water longer. Spend some money on your kids, especially for boots. Cold feet suck really bad. And when they grow out of that clothing and boots, give it ALL to another kid. You will end up getting more of your money’s worth out of those miniature clothes than you ever did out of clothing you buy for yourself, and you’ll be a part of another kiddo being introduced to the outdoors. 

Of course, all that stuff aside, that didn’t stop me from trying to suggest possible alternatives when Jo wanted expensive popular brand hunting clothes just like her Papa’s. The issue was nonnegotiable, but it was money well spent. There was some brief disappointment that it was not currently available in purple. More overtime.

NOW FOR THE MOST IMPORTANT bit of advice I can give you: Don’t forget the snacks! It would be more acceptable to Jo for me to forget my gun than not have an ice chest full of enough fruit, veggies, meat, cheese and other munchies to feed an army. And if you want any of that, you better ask her, by the way. The kid is quick, she is strong, and she is ruthless. 

Packing our hunting packs is one of her favorite parts of the pre-hunt regimen, so we focused on that first. We make it a big deal. She picked out her own backpack. Once again there was a slight disturbance in the outdoor store when I explained it couldn’t be purple, but fortunately we found an acceptable camouflage alternative. It cost me a new stuffed animal, but she accepted the terms. Then we went to the grocery store and went snack shopping. Some of them even made it home. The night-shift shelf stockers had to work overtime.

Our first grouse hunt lasted about an hour. The first half an hour was spent picking flowers to take back to Jo’s Nana. It’s something we still do every trip to the mountains. Then we sat on a stump, ate snacks, and Jo asked thousands of questions. My favorite was, “What on that big dog head?” I was confused, then I heard a branch snap. I turned to see a nice bull elk had joined our picnic quite stealthily.

“Don’t move, sweetheart,” I whispered. 

Yeah, right. 

“Hi, doggy!” Jo yelled as she waved excitedly.

I think the bull was amused and quite confused. He didn’t take off running; instead, he slowly climbed out of the draw as we sat and ate snacks watching his every step. I explained that the doggy was actually a big boy elk.

“Bye-bye doggy,” Jo sang. 

Okay, it’s a doggy.

With that, Jo had had enough and asked to go home. So, we headed home. On the way out of our picnic spot, a grouse was sitting on the road, as they often do. I explained to her what was about to happen, and she never took her eyes off the small bush the grouse decided was an adequate hiding spot. I got out of our side-by-side, affectionately dubbed the “Zoom-Zoom” (no, it’s not purple … yet), loaded the shotgun and crept towards the bush. He jumped, flew straight away and I dropped him. On the second shot. 

Our first grouse hunt lasted about an hour. The first half an hour was spent picking flowers to take back to Jo’s Nana. It’s something we still do every trip to the mountains. Then we sat on a stump, ate snacks, and Jo asked thousands of questions. My favorite was, “What on that big dog head?” I was confused, then I heard a branch snap. I turned to see a nice bull elk had joined our picnic quite stealthily.

–Brandon Jewett

Jo was already letting herself out of her car seat as she yelled, “I’ll find him, Daddy!” She picked him up with a huge smile and asked, “Can we cook him?”

Now she no longer wanted to go home as she sat in her seat with the grouse on her lap, studying every feather and placing several in her pocket. It was getting late, though. Time had passed really quickly. During the drive home Jo was full of questions about why grouse are loud when they fly, why they sit on roads, and why I had missed the first shot. I answered them all the best I could, and explained to her it’s good form to offer a warning shot to your prey from time to time, and I am a gentleman. 

To be continued …