A couple of issues ago, Debbie Geiger wrote about the latest fitness fad, mud sports for women. I’ve been in the mud a lot these past few years, and the article intrigued me. Grown women pay to train and compete in mud. They enter mud races, swim in muddy water and belly crawl in mud. Michelle Segar, an exercise psychologist, is quoted in the article as saying, “We’re socialized to be clean and neat. When we let go and get dirty, it breaks social mores.”
That means my fellow huntresses and I are out there breaking “social mores” all the time, because getting dirty is not only liberating, it’s fun.
And we all know, dirt sells. Take for example, the TV show Turkey Country that featured my pal, Dianna Robb and me, sitting in butt puddles during a rainstorm, waiting for an opportunity to put our beads on some gobblers. And we did, shivering through the process, throwing those dirty, wet gobblers over our shoulders and heading back to the truck, so pumped with adrenalin that we didn’t even notice the weight or that we had to hike uphill to the barn.
Then, there was the turkey hunt with the Jolly Green Giant, a guide whose height measures at least 6’10” and he made me belly crawl up a hill with my shotgun on my right arm, and him right beside me, and me struggling to get around cow poop at times. I draw the line at cow poop. Mud – if I don’t know what’s in it – is one thing. Cow patties are another.
But dirt always makes for a better story. Dirt and wind and inclement weather and thinking that you’re coming down with a virus or the stomach flu while in your stand. That’s what the reader wants to hear about, and real outdoor writers – well, we just like to get dirty. I’m delighted to see the dirt philosophy (of good healthy dirt mixed with water) is catching on in mainstream media.