A long time ago, there was a movie called Endless Summer. A couple of surfer dudes followed summer around the globe, always in search of the perfect wave.

I believe this past summer sometimes felt endless – or at least the rainy days felt endless. I enjoy all seasons, but don’t as eagerly anticipate any of them like I do autumn.

I just love to hunt; I’m in search of Endless Autumn. When I hunt I am united with something I love – the outdoors. And that is why hunting has always led me to the finest people in the world; the people that feel the same way, and approach hunting with a respect akin to reverence.

I only have one regret about hunting – I wish I would have started sooner. Because here’s the thing – I’ve reached the point in my life where I printed “varies” in the space for “hair color” on my hunting license. I’m taking calcium supplements, and I needed cheater glasses to read the label on the bottle.

It’s only been in the last decade that female hunters have become the fastest growing segment of the hunting community. Men have been going on hunting trips for years, even centuries, which would make you think they’d have gotten a little better at it. But for many of them – I’ve done extensive research – the hunting trip consists of wee hours card games, baked bean suppers, much scratching of bellies and of course, unbelievable snoring. (It’s not always true that if you hold one’s nose shut their mouth will open and the snoring will stop, but it is kind of fun to try.)

It wasn’t until I started to travel to hunt that I felt unconditional acceptance of my hunting habit. No, I wasn’t an oddity, the lone female hunter in the group of men. There were lots of us. It was OK to prefer Essence of Fall to Estee Lauder.

I remember pressing the “seek” button on the truck radio as I drove to a hunt in rural Mississippi, and it just kept going around without finding a station. That first afternoon at the hunting lodge, I was dropped off on a path marked “Secret Road.”

But as your mind will wander during the hours in a tree, I thought again and again about the idea of Secret Road. How can something be a secret if there’s a sign for it? Why are so many of my favorite things located down these Secret Roads?

I took out the little notebook I carry in my pack and started a list called Favorite Things. I wrote, “Afternoon shadows of trees black on a brown pond, where fish are rising with the sounds of very small stones hitting the water. A red-tailed hawk disappearing into a dark gray storm cloud. Small birds walking upside down on branches. That a squirrel can only remember for six months the location of each thing it hides.”

On my drive home, I pulled into a Walmart lot. I was planning a late supper along the lines of ginger ale with a bag of chips, followed by sleeping in the truck. My camouflage hat was an icebreaker, and before long I was sharing a grill that was running out of space. To the original Virginia family’s hot dogs, a West Virginia man has chipped in with Colorado elk steaks and I added a couple Mississippi butterfly chops.

I guess it’s possible to find common ground on macadam. The parking lot lights didn’t have the ambience of moonlight, and we weren’t ancient hunters gathered at a campfire. I decided to take it all as a sign anyway. I was still 10 hours from my house, but somehow home.

It’s too bad that hunting’s Secret Roads are places that some never experience; this season, make it a goal to introduce a new person to hunting. At least once, I think, people should be awakened and escorted under cover of darkness into the woods to hear a turkey gobble. They should sit quietly and listen for the sound of a deer approaching in the woods, which is like listening to an orchestra, and trying to pick out the clarinet. Maybe then people would go about their daily lives with a greater feeling of hope and promise.

OCTOBER OPPORTUNITIES

• Statewide Muzzleloader – Oct. 13-20

• Fall Turkey – Oct. 27 to Nov. 10 and Nov. 22-24 (in our area)

• Squirrels, rabbits, grouse – open Oct. 13

• Pheasant – Oct. 20

• Raccoons, Foxes – Oct. 20