Scott Gunning was just 8 years old on the day his grandfather, Earle Griffin, took him on his first duck hunt. Now 53 and president of Seattle-based insurance company Gunning & Associates, Gunning vividly remembers that cold, wet winter morning in November 1962.
Gunning's grandfather had gotten permission from a dairy farmer in rural Whatcom County to hunt on his land. Dressed in hip boots and rain gear, Gunning watched as his grandfather taught him the ins and outs of duck hunting. Later, the two of them ate cowtongue sandwiches seasoned with horseradish, which Gunning's grandmother had made for lunch.
"It's not something I would go to the grocery store and buy today, but back then, hunting and eating lunch with grandpa, it tasted great," Gunning recalls.
As it was for many young boys in those days, hunting provided Gunning an opportunity to bond with his family's older generation. In many ways, Gunning is the prototypical hunter in Washington today -- a man over the age of 50 who's been hunting most of his life. These days, he spends much of his free time hunting with his 14-year-old son, Grant.
But the numbers of hunters like Gunning are shrinking. Last year, 209,000 hunters bought hunting licenses in Washington, a nearly 36 percent decrease from 1970, when 325,000 bought licenses, according to the state Department of Fish and Wildlife.
The decrease in licenses has impacted Fish and Wildlife -- money generated by the sale of hunting licenses funds almost all the department's wildlife conservation efforts, such as restoring and maintaining wetlands, en- forcing federal mandates regarding endangered species such as bald eagles and spotted owls, and buying open and undeveloped land for public use.
At the same time, the department has steadily taken on new duties over the years, stretching its budget. One of its strategies, besides seeking more federal aid, is to team up with nonprofit conservation organizations like Ducks Unlimited to maintain Washington's pool of public land.
"I think urbanization is the No. 1 issue" for the decline in the number of hunters, says Gunning. "The Kent Valley used to be one of the best duck hunting spots in all of Washington, and now it's nothing but shopping malls and warehouses. As the opportunities to hunt go away, people get frustrated and give up. They go golfing instead."
Couple that with a much more diverse population in the formerly blue-collar Puget Sound area and all the kids staying inside to play video games, and you have an outdoor activity in apparent decline.
Greg James, CEO of Renton-based educational software publisher Topics Entertainment and an avid bird and big-game hunter for 15 years, says the composition of the work force in western Washington has changed from a blue-collar, manufacturing economy to a diversified, white-collar economy. "Deer hunting used to be mostly a bluecollar thing," he says. "It was just a guy with a rifle out on his own. For sure, hunting is way bigger in rural Rocky Mountain states."
Hunters also have to combat perception, says Bernard Brown, regional director of Ducks Unlimited. In his opinion, he says, "Some people think that we're a bunch of rednecks. But the fact is, we have plenty of people who are awfully big at Microsoft and Boeing that are avid hunters." Ducks Unlimited has about 13,000 members in the state.
Brown, who has degrees in forestry and wildlife habitat management, says organizations like Ducks Unlimited play a large role in conservation in Washington, too. Over the last 71 years, his organization has raised funds to maintain and enhance about 54,300 acres of land in the state, with a $37 million price tag.