Outdoors serves as makeshift classroom

As the father of five, I have watched with great interest the country's growing dissatisfaction with our educational system. With fingers pointed in every conceivable direction, so-called experts attempt to blame poor test scores on everything but student study habits, lack of parental involvement and the system's focus on teaching kids to pass a test rather than develop problem-solving skills.

I believe part of the problem can be traced back to a lack of time spent in the outdoors. Outdoor pursuits such as hunting and fishing, among others, provide the perfect environment for developing focus, patience and stick-to-itiveness. They also can help to strengthen young people's decision-making processes and bolster their personal ethics, all while they learn about the environment in a natural setting.

I was reminded of these things last week when my friend Paul and me took our sons -- Daniel and Hyrum -- to central Nevada for their mule deer hunt. The teenagers had drawn junior tags for Area 22, the same unit in which Paul and me had harvested our bucks the week before. Not wanting to let education get in the way of an outdoor education, we took the boys out of school for a day so they could hunt Friday and Saturday.

When we arrived at our campsite late Thursday, the moon still was well below the horizon, with the only light coming from thousands of stars scattered across the clear desert sky. Paul, who knows much more about the heavens than I do, pointed out Jupiter and three of its moons. Kids who grow up in Las Vegas or are sequestered within the confines of windowless school walls never will see stars and planets the way they can be seen in the remote corners of our state.

By 9 a.m. Friday, Hyrum had passed on two bucks, one a nice three-point and the other a big forked horn. The first disappeared down a draw before coming into range, and the second bolted when the breeze shifted and gave us away, but not before Hyrum patiently waited several minutes for troublesome does to get out of the way. He could have forced the shot but decided not to.

About that same time, we heard Daniel take two shots and headed that direction, but within minutes we found another small herd of deer accompanied by another two-point buck. This time I gave Hyrum some room to see how he would do without me whispering in his ear. The deer seemed intent on moving south, so I walked through a pair of swales and walked out where the deer could see me. While they watched me, Hyrum sneaked up as close as he could.

I watched as Hyrum used his binoculars over and over to double-check the buck's position and then do his best to close the distance despite the open nature of the terrain. Meanwhile, the buck stood off by himself, presenting what appeared from my position to be a wide-open shot. A determined Hyrum raised his gun and looked through the scope two or three times during his stalk but never fired. After the buck had enough of the dance and lit out for parts unknown, I asked Hyrum why he didn't take the shot. "Because I wasn't comfortable with the shot," he said. "He was still too far away."

That's a tough decision for anyone but especially for a young hunter determined to fill his tag. Hyrum came home without a deer, but he worked on his concentration, developed patience and put in a determined effort. He'll be a better hunter next time and a better student in the meantime.

Freelance writer Doug Nielsen is a conservation educator for the Nevada Department of Wildlife. His "In the Outdoors" column, published Thursday in the Las Vegas Review-Journal, is not affiliated with or endorsed by the NDOW. Any opinions he states in his column are his own. He can be reached at intheoutdoorslv@gmail.com.