Hung up on and in the Great Outdoors

Trying to get off Elkhorn Mountain. Front row from left - Danny Dickman, Ellis Floyd, and Greg Stephens

There’s a rule at our house – no video games during weekdays. And, on the weekends, we try to do various family functions, outdoor activities, and chores. The idea is to limit exposure to the TV and video trap. The kids think we’re on some demented power trip designed to make their lives miserable. I mean gosh, according to them, all their friends are doing it. The way I see it, if a child is going to get hooked on something, they may as well develop a passion for something that can provide enjoyment, lessons, adventure, and even sustenance for a lifetime, and all while simultaneously participating within the fabric of Mother Nature and mankind’s society. I remember, before the days of video games, getting my first taste of freedom, being set loose to explore the creeks, fields, and woods of southern Missouri. I would leave the house with fishing pole or .22 rifle in hand, and as far as I could explore in half a day was my only boundary. I was definitely hung-up on anything in the Great Outdoors.

When my friends and I reached driving age, we discovered a euphoric rite of passage in our new found freedom out from under the watchful eyes of mom and dad. However, there were limitations from parents in our new found freedom - that is until it came to hunting and fishing. As long as our parents knew we were in the woods, at the farm, or on the river and not running around town, the scrutiny of our actions was less severe. So, as we were exercising our new freedoms, we were also discovering our great passion for all things outdoors. We were also discovering that for some of us getting hung-up in the outdoors was just as exciting as getting hung-up on the outdoors. Enter my outdoor companion, Ellis Floyd.

Together, Ellis and I have been stuck more times than I care to remember. And not just stuck but buried. You see, there are some folks that are just good at it. Ellis and I are two such people. When we were younger we actually enjoyed the adventure of getting hung-up in the outdoors. Dad used to shake his head and say, “You boys will grow out of that someday.” But it just seemed like every time we went hunting or fishing, the truck, dune buggy, or 544 John Deere, 4-wheel-drive forklift always got stuck. I mean, haven’t we all taken our parent’s 544 John Deere, 4-wheel-drive forklift from the family sawmill down through the field while rabbit hunting and buried it up to the axels in the soft mud? And you, like us, probably spent all night using a two hundred foot cable and chains tied to the forks to move the forklift a foot at a time across the field by raising the hydraulics up and down. And I’m sure in August when your dad discovered the 75-yard long, 5-foot deep dried up ruts in the middle of the field he wasn’t too happy either. I mean, we’ve all done that, right?

Preparing to dig out the Bronco. Danny Dickman standing on the Bronco in a Colorado mountain mud hole

And then there was the time we were out playing on the 3-wheeler and my dune buggy. I had been all over the farm with the dune buggy and that thing would go anywhere. It was so light it didn’t sink in the mud and the back tread would really get traction. I made the mistake of commenting to Ellis, “You can’t get this thing stuck.” I, of course, should have included the words, ‘within reason’, but when it came to getting stuck there was nothing about Ellis that was ‘within reason.’ We then traded, I took the three-wheeler and Ellis and Randy took the dune buggy and we went our separate ways. Hours later, it was getting dark and I was getting worried so I decided I should start looking for them. Just as I started looking I came upon them walking - a bad sign. When I pulled up beside them they were wet, muddy, and laughing hysterically…another bad sign. As Ellis stood there crying with laughter all I could make out were the words, “stuck,…..pond!” This was really a bad sign. I took off on the 3-wheeler straight for the pond. As I approached the dam I could see the tracks going up and over. As I topped the pond dam I thought to myself, “I stand corrected.” The dune buggy was definitely stuck…and sunk—in the middle of the pond! He was good.

Ellis got so good he took the show on the road. Twice while elk hunting in Colorado we managed to bury the rigs in unbelievable predicaments. Once, while out scouting the night before opening day, just before dark Ellis buried the Bronco in a mud hole heading down hill! To add insult to injury it was 5 miles from camp! Five of us walked the five miles out of the mountains back to camp in the pitch black of night. Another time we headed out for a pleasant evening drive over Elkhorn Mountain that turned into an all- night expedition on a road that had 18 inches of new snow and would have been a challenge for an army half-track without the snow, let alone 4 mostly stock 4-wheel drives! We left on the ride at 4 pm and got back to camp at 10 am the next morning. If we hadn’t taken a winch, we would still be there today! At this point in our lives I can look at Ellis and see in his face if we are going to get hung-up in the Great Outdoors before we even leave the house!

Its funny how many of our parent’s lessons aren’t understood until 25 years later. Twenty-five years later I now know dad was right, I have outgrown the enjoyment of getting hung-up in the Great Outdoors but I am still firmly hung up on the Great Outdoors. And we, like our parents, will give our kids freedom to explore and discover great adventure, getting hung-up on and in the Great Outdoors. Twenty-five years from now they will know that limiting their time on those video games wasn’t the end of the world. I’m just glad I don’t have a 544 John Deere forklift! So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly. Good luck, be safe, and get a big one.