Should The Tent Be Burning Like That? by Bill Heavey

‘The Professional Amateur’s Guide to the Outdoors’ is a compilation of Heavey’s columns for Field and Stream magazine. And if the title sounds curious, his previous books are “If you didn’t bring jerky, what did I just eat?” then “It’s only slow food until you try to eat it” followed up by “You’re not lost if you can still see the truck.” 

In the book’s introduction, he acknowledges that ‘these pieces have been known to make people laugh, cry, or curse, often in their bathrooms, since that is where many people prefer to read my stuff.” Reminds me of that line from The Big Chill where People magazine writer Jeff Goldblum tells his friends that his writing has length limits – only long enough for one to finish within the length of the typical American crap. 

Translated: short stories most anyone who has ventured beyond their fescue moat can relate.

As with other similar compilations, this is non-fiction. Heavey tells us that in the world of outdoor writing, the high end (the experienced, the knowledgeable, the successful) is heavily populated.

But the other end of the spectrum (the rookie, the downright dumb, the failure who keeps trying bless his heart) is largely ignored. 

This book is for and about 'that guy' . . . 

. . . who has a ‘case of athlete’s foot that would be at home in a leper colony’ whose only saving grace is his ‘deranged perserverance’ in search of ‘a beast with a cow-catcher on its head forever to be known as the Heavey buck’.

. . . who is such a gear head that he lives in a suburban Virginia house ‘with as much of the Cabela’s catalog crammed into his house as possible’ because he knows that ‘new gear solemnly swears to change your life’.

. . . who realizes that, while waiting for the Valium to kick in for his colonoscopy, he needs to inventory his flashlights and head lamps.

. . . whose head shot for his column presents ‘someone who aspires to be a sex offender, but doesn’t have the nerve.’

. . . with sufficient wisdom and understanding to recognize that with age comes a neck that would do a snapping turtle proud.

. . . who, when dressed out for a hunt resembles an ‘outdoorsy transvestite that would be proud to be introduced to parents’

. . . who isn’t the slightest bit concerned about wearing pink lipstick when forgetting the Chap Stick or wearing pantyhose for a 5-day horseback trek to avoid chafing (XL, taupe, opaque, regular not control top; and don’t let the salesperson jerk you around).

. . . who ventures into unpopulated areas of the planet to hunt caribou with a bow, realizing that he is headed into ‘a violent feeding ground for the strongest predators, a trap for the week, a graveyard for the unlucky.” No problem for a DC area resident, because that ‘sounds a little like the Beltway.’

. . . who enters a team event for hunting skills with three other similar guys who know they have no chance of winning. So, they plan to try mightily, but strive to come in last and realize “We failed to fail. Tell me, grasshopper, what more complete failure can a man attain.’

But this book just isn’t about ‘that guy’. It’s also about the steelhead freak who sleeps in his pickup truck cab because the bed is too loaded with gear. The world’s shotgun expert trying to teach the unlearned how to shoot birds. The PharmD who is also the mountain trout guru. Those guides who take the foolhardy into pristine places not to be revealed and opens beer bottles with a Bic lighter.

In short, this book is for all those nerds and rookies who greatly outnumber the cool guys and experts. That’s who this book is for.

In other words, it’s for you.

ECD

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