“I ask people why they have deer heads on their walls. They always say because it’s such a beautiful animal. There you go. I think my mother is attractive, but I have photographs of her.” Ellen DeGeneres
Posts Tagged ‘hunting
24
Jan
17
trotting along…
19
Dec
15
deceptions…
03
Dec
14
WTF! Giraffe ‘Hunting’ for Sport
Some things are so iconically sacred in nature that their demise should/must generate a response to abuses. So, when I came upon a piece about the decline in the giraffe population I was interested to followup. Imagine my disgust when I discovered companies actually provide a safari experience to hunt/kill giraffes. I am not anti-hunting, but this is beyond the pale. Shame meter pegged! The giraffe populations are allegedly in serious decline….could these morons be part of the problem…of course they are! All rationalizations aside, this is obscene.
22
Nov
14
Perched & Hopeful
“Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without words, and never stops at all.” Emily Dickinson
02
Aug
14
Huh or Hmm?
27
Dec
13
Photography: Tip Top Shape
06
Mar
13
Outdoor Magazines: The Originals
Do you remember the barber shop’s table top full of magazines, the waiting room at the repair shop, the smoke shop’s magazine rack? At some point, you would have seen Field & Stream, Outdoor Life or Sports Afield. They were some of the very first magazines that motivated the fishermen, the hunter, the camper.
Field & Stream was started in 1895; Outdoor Life in 1898 and Sports Afield in 1887. Plaid shirts, pipes, rifles with scopes, fishing rods, leaping trout and 8 point bucks were the norm.
Compared to today’s offerings, much was left to the imagination with the old publications. Over a 110+ years later and having moved through many hands the publications withstood the times and changes. Amelia Earhart, Zane Grey, Ernest Hemingway, Teddy Roosevelt, Clark Gable and many other notable names contributed pieces for the magazines in their prime.
No, this Fish Net Caddis Pupa has nothing much to directly do with this post. I just thought I would throw it in as another derivation of a simple pupa pattern using my salvaged strands of green fishing net I pulled from a hoarding cleanup in which I am immersed.
I have alluded to my multi-year commitment to my mom’s and aunt’s hospice care and in the aftermath of their deaths, to the cleaning up of their hoarding messes.
I have also mentioned my Uncle, who gave me my first fly rod and provided an example of a classy outdoorsman, who hunted and fly fished. He died too young. His special shop behind the garage was where I recalled gazing upon his fishing gear and eyeing the elk, antelope and deer antlers affixed to the wall.
After his death, my Aunt filled the room with meaningless stuff but not, it appears, before getting rid of almost all of my Uncle’s fishing and hunting gear. What a shame. She sealed off the room. And, then socked in so much stuff before the entry way that it has stood like a tomb for 42 years.
An old calendar has hung in that shop for many years and modestly attests to my uncles love of fly fishing.
Yesterday and today, I gained access and entry into that room. Hours were spent removing the meaningless stuff, animal nests and hodge podge of obstacles to get to the places where there might be signs of my Uncle. I found traces of him: hunting knives neatly hung, an old camping stove, an ax and a half dozen empty cardboard fly rod tubes. I shook each one for weight or signs of something. All were empty. The rods long gone. No reels, no lines, a few spools of old mono and nary a fly box. Really nothing.
The man that handed me my first fly rod 50+ years ago may have left a legacy of treasures, but my Aunt or someone else discarded every last piece of gear. So, I have the same recollections I always have had minus some old reel or rod that I probably wouldn’t use, but would wonder how he so enjoyed the sport with such primitive gear. Still, I would like to have found something beyond old, musty cardboard rod tubes.
This was my Uncle's style and organization. Vastly different than the chaos that beset my Aunt (and, my Mom)
03
Jan
11
Friends, Snow & a Shovel
The Shovel's Reward (TMuncy, 2010)
A cold, crisp Winter’s day, New Years eve day, beckoned Zack, Blake and Tony up into the snow near Davis Peak, above Woodland, Washington. They were going to kill time and coyotes. At least that was the plan. In due course, the marauders were axle deep in the snow. Moving neither forward nor backwards, they spent their calling~hunting time digging out. Tony’s new shovel came in handy. The accomplishment of springing the rig free, prompted a thirst. High on a ridgeline, they enjoyed the Widmer Hefeweizen. Good friends enjoying the moment. Blake is destined for Afghanistan. The boys, the young men…will remember that cold afternoon.
Think what you want of Ted. But, read this a time or two and there is indeed a clarity, a simplicity to it.
Prim Avoidance? (gutpilestyle.com)
Ted Nugent (4/21/2010): “The way I live is not out of time. I go to Alaska and Africa. The way I live, self sufficiency, you are talking about being an asset to your neighbor. You have to start by being an asset to yourself, and if you can take hands on that sustenance, the food, clothing, shelter, medicine that you need from the good Mother Earth in a face to face eyewitness, first person system, then you know you are being accountable with those resources that we use….”
“You know, one of my favorite celebrations is the honesty of what sustains us. And you see an Anthony Bourdain or the bizarre food and you see these guys going through the process of the uncomfortable reality of preparing food for the masses. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, write this down: Your life has a gut pile. Know it, love it, admit it, and then you will be more responsible with fewer gut piles. But if you are not privy or honest enough to admit the system by which sustains you, then you can pretend and hire bureaucrats to waste everything in your name, USDA, FDA, OSHA, onward, insanity. So this individual lifestyle, I’m telling you..I”m not the weirdo. People who don’t understand gut piles are the weirdos.”
