2007 hunting preview: Passing it on

Nicholas Flesland is 12 years old, is in the seventh grade and lives in Vadnais Heights. He knows no one else in his school who hunts.

Nicholas' father is a whitetail hunter who once took him into the woods and shared his deer stand with him. That was all it took. "Hunting is fun," Nicholas said.

But until recently, that single outing and a Department of Natural Resources youth turkey hunt he participated in last year were Nicholas' sole hunting experiences.

Question: Will Nicholas grow up to be a hunter?

Or, instead, will he join the legions of other seventh-graders in his school and elsewhere who, lacking opportunity — some might say 1-on-1 inspiration — forego hunting forever?

Consider also Christy Hurley, 31, of Marine on St. Croix.

Her brothers hunted with their dad when she was a kid. But she didn't. Hunting wasn't something girls did.

Now she hunts deer occasionally with her husband. But until opening day of this fall's early goose season, she never had hunted birds.

That recent waterfowling experience was a lot of fun, she said, and something she'd like to try again.

But will she be a bird hunter next year? And the next and the next?

Hunting's future depends on whether Nicholas, Christy and others like them decide to participate.

But hunting's future might also depend on how many seasoned outdoorsmen like Don Helmeke of Maple Grove take the time to do something that historically in America has been second nature to many dads, uncles and brothers, and even to some moms, aunts and sisters.

Namely, to teach the youngest in their families how to handle guns. And how to hunt.

It was Helmeke, along with a friend, who, acting as mentors, took Nicholas and Christy afield for Canada geese when the early season opened Sept. 1.

Helmeke’s decision to "pass it on" is manifest of his passion for the sights, sounds and smells that define hunting — the rising sun, honking geese, the dankness of an autumn marsh.

And manifest as well of a time apparently gone by: when American society was more rural than urban, when TV and the Internet didn’t command kids’ attention the way they do today, and when kids had more opportunities to hunt — oftentimes out their back doors.

• • •

Last year, hunters spent nearly $500 million in Minnesota, according to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. More Minnesotans hunt — about 600,000 — as a percentage of the state’s population than in just about any other state.

But even in Minnesota, hunting’s future is cloudy, in large part because the state’s hunters are dying faster than young people are being recruited into the sport.

Enter Helmeke’s decision to become a hunting mentor — to pass on what his father passed on to him so many years ago.

"My dad was a hunter, and he let me tag along with him when I was just 5 years old," Helmeke said. "I loved it and couldn’t get enough of it. But my dad was very, very nurturing. By the time I was 10, I not only was shooting my own birds, I was in many instances conducting my own hunts."

Nationwide, the notion of veteran hunters acting as mentors is gaining traction. Conservation groups are hopping on the bandwagon, too.

The Mississippi Longtails Chapter of Pheasants Forever, for example, recently held its seventh annual youth fun day near Lakeville, in cooperation with the Capital City Strutters chapter of the National Wild Turkey Federation, Trout Unlimited and the Minnesota Deer Hunters Association.

Again this year, hundreds of kids attended and received instruction not only in shooting and fly casting but in wildlife photography, ATV safety and bird-house building.

Still, PF volunteer organizer Dan Richmond of Woodbury said the dreams of hundreds of kids from single-parent and other families who want to learn to hunt are put on hold for want of mentors.

"The truth is, we have the same adults who volunteer for everything," Richmond said. "If we could get more mentors, we have more kids — hundreds of more kids — waiting."

The DNR is also attempting to "widen the door" to hunting by again offering special youth hunts this fall. The agency also has begun a "hunter apprentice" program in which first-time hunters who otherwise would be required to pass a firearms safety course can forego that restriction, provided they purchase a special $3.50 hunter apprentice identification, provided they purchase required licenses and stamps, and provided they hunt with a licensed adult mentor.

"This isn’t meant to weaken any safety programs," said DNR fish and wildlife division outreach section chief C.B. Bylander. “We continue to be very concerned about safety. But clearly, this is one of the biggest things we’ve done to make it easier for people to get into hunting.”

• • •

On a recent morning, as the sun’s first light cast a faint orange glow over an expansive field near Lino Lakes, Nicholas Flesland and Christy Hurley were huddled in a blind with Don Helmeke.

A few flocks of geese had approached the field early, before the hunters were prepared to shoot, and now the three new friends were settled in, talking and passing the good time.

Someone poured a cup of coffee. Someone else opened a bag of doughnuts.

Old stuff to Helmeke and others who have hunted like this before.

But to Christy, and especially to Nicholas, everything about the experience was new, from loading a shotgun, to being licked on the face by a Labrador retriever, to ducking low when the honk, honk of birds was heard in the distance.

Can mentoring save hunting?

Will the DNR’s new apprentice program and similar plans widen the door to the sport, inviting more people to participate?

“I don’t know whether mentoring will save hunting, but it’s absolutely worth the effort,” Helmeke said. “In my opinion, there are lots of people who have the tinder for hunting. All they need is a spark.”

Dennis Anderson • danderson@startribune.com