My Life as the Wife of an Outdoorsman
June 18, 2009 by Lisa Beth
It takes a special kind of women to be married to an avid outdoorsman. I should know, I am one of them. If you know one of these outstanding women, after reading this please go buy her flowers, or at least give her a hug. We deserve it. We put up with a lot.
Chris and I have been married for just over 5 years now, together for about 14. So, I can’t say I didn’t know what I was getting into. I did, I just foolishly believed that when he got older, he would slow down a bit. Boy was I wrong. And for those women out there who strongly believe that you can change an outdoorsman’s love for hunting and fishing, you are sadly mistaken my friend.
What I find the most interesting about being married to an outdoorsman is that the seasons seem to merge into one another seamlessly. Fall (hunting season) transitions into winter (ice fishing season) transitions into spring (spring hunting season) transitions into summer (fishing season) without so much as a blink of the eye. Sometimes I actually watch the decoy trailer hand the baton to the boat in the driveway in late April. Chris will announce after a long, hard weekend of spring snow goose hunting, “I think that was the last weekend I’m hunting this spring. I need to go to Scheels and grab some crank baits” Just like that.
I believe that the obsession with the outdoors has grown much worse since moving to Bismarck in 2004. The possibilities seem endless, much more than when we lived in Fargo. Good for him, not so good for his wife. I am unconvinced, however, that Bismarck is unique to this situation. I firmly believe that wherever the outdoorsman lives, he will find opportunities to hunt and fish even if this requires driving for miles and miles. We recently met a couple, Jeff and Melissa, who moved here from Indiana. I don’t think Melissa knew what she was getting into. I swear Jeff and Chris are out fishing every day. I often ask Chris, “Doesn’t he work? I thought lawyers had to see clients to make money?” because it seems he likes to fish more than Chris, if this is possible. Here’s where I give a shout out to my new friend Melissa – your angel wings are waiting for you in heaven, because you are a SAINT.
Some of the most puzzling phenomenons happen when you are married to an outdoorsman.
- It is nearly impossible to get an outdoorsman out of bed and ready for the day most days of the week, but they are up and moving by 4 am should the call of the goose or walleye come on a rainy Saturday morning – dressed and out the door by 4:10.
- Their back/arm/foot/(insert body part) is too sore to take out the trash, change the baby’s diaper, (insert chore here) but are miraculously healed if their buddy calls to go lay in a field and hunt geese. Apparently lying on a the hard ground has healing powers, because once they return home, the injuries rear their ugly heads once again. (This phenomenon is why I am called the unsympathetic wife. “Your back hurts, you say? Stay home and REST! Should you choose to go lay in a field with an injured back – not my problem.”)
- Coming home early on Sunday may mean that he will be home around noon, but is so exhausted that he naps until 7pm. To me, this is not “early on Sunday” because, as I always argue, being home doesn’t count if you are sleeping the entire day.
- He whines at the thought of taking the garbage out on a rainy day, but will lay on a snow covered field for hours in -50◦F wind chill to shoot birds.
- The avid outdoorsman claims his “freezer-filling” is “feeding the family for free”. Let’s do the math. Boat + gas + bait + rods + line + everything else I’m forgetting = $352.89 Walleye dinner. Hmmm…free?
I feel like I have been a supportive wife through it all. Sure, I like to complain a bit (as evidenced by this blog) but feel like my nagging is on the low end of the spectrum. When I hear other wives of hunters scream, “HE GOES HUNTING HOW MANY DAYS A YEAR?! AND YOU‘RE STILL MARRIED TO HIM?!” I figure I’m doing all right. I went hunting once back in October 2001, found out it just wasn’t my thing, and haven’t gone since. I know Chris is secretly happy that I don’t enjoy hunting, or he’d have me tagging along after him every weekend. Then he might not love it as much. I have done a fair amount of fishing over the years. More so before our children were born. Let’s face it, once kids come along, women’s lives change dramatically while the man’s life stays the same, or changes ever so slightly. Just the other weekend, we got out fishing sans kiddos for the first time in over a year. As we were driving to the lake, Chris was panting like a rabid dog. “Aren’t you EXCITED?” he asked, “On a scale of one to ten, how excited are you that we get to go fishing?!” I just wanted to reach over, shake him and say, “You get to go fishing every day! How is it you are SO excited? The reason I go fishing with you is because I love you and it’s the only way I get to spend any quality time with you these days!” Instead, I reply, “Pretty excited!” and smile politely. There are so many other things I’d rather be doing, but we have a nice day on the lake, got a little sun and got that quality time.
And so, although I often wonder, what would my husband choose if given a choice between his wife and never being able to hunt/fish again – I will never ask. Frankly, I’m not sure I would like the answer.
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