I’m not a “tactard.” No that has nothing to do with tack for your horse, it’s an abbreviation of tactical and, well, you can guess the rest. I shoot a lot, our friends often teach (or have written the books on) cool-guy classes, and we can run black guns with the best of them. But you won’t find me wandering around in a plate carrier vest or whatever the current equivalent of 5.11 pants happens to be. At this point in my life I’m simply too old to play dress-up, like the bougie hipsters in the uplands who are taking selfies before they even finish slamming the truck door. Both have a way of pissing you off before you even get started.
That doesn’t mean I dismiss tactical gear. In fact, some of it is remarkably well suited to the way that I spend my time outdoors. I just have little interest in wearing something that makes me look like I’ve been issued a radio and a mission.
I spend a lot of time in the field, although I’m not talking about packing into the true backcountry for days at a time, at least not anymore. When I’m moving through the woods on foot, I want to carry the essentials without turning myself into a walking gear closet: your favorite piece of iron to spray some lead or a stick to waive in the river, a few basic tools like a leatherman, a decent light, maybe some boots for the dogs, some water, and, preferably, something to eat. I like snacks. What constitutes “essential” changes considerably depending on what I’m doing, which is where some of that supposedly tactical gear starts to make a lot of sense. However, your choice of boots, clothing, and related items really do matter more than the accouterments of hunting, fishing or whatever.
The distinction, for me, is simple. I’m not interested in looking tactical. I’m interested in having useful gear that works.
