One-Eyed Hillbilly Outdoors: June 2010

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Anxiously Anticipating the Perfect Storm

Folks from the hills still believe fulfilling a participatory biological role in Mother Nature is a personal responsibility. The One-Eyed Hillbilly, Greg Stephens with son, Coleman, and Uncle Joe O'Day. Missouri deer season 2007

Finally, after what seemed like years of waiting, in 1975 I broke into the ranks of the hunting fraternity immemorial. I went with my father and the guys to my first weekend deer camp at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. Anxiously anticipating the time when I would finally get to go along, I had mentally envisioned just how the experience would unfold. Dad, on the other hand was old school and oblivious to my plans. He had camped for deer season for many years and he wasn’t one given to change. So, our trip to the grocery store for provisions was just as it had been for his many years previous - quick, to the point, and definitely not in line with my preconceived notions of what we would eat during deer camp. For the weekend our food grubstake included two packages of baloney, one loaf of bread, two boxes of Little Debbie’s brownies, and a case of soda…and that was it. No kidding. Well, at least you didn’t worry about needing a bathroom, with a diet like that you were bound up for the whole weekend! We were going after wholesome and nutritious wildlife sustenance but we were killing ourselves with processed junk food in the process. Looking back now it seems a little ironic.

It’s strange how experiences in a life morph in directions that one never really anticipates. That experience of my first deer camp and the underlying pursuit of hunting in nature formed the foundation for the primary interest and focus in my life. After that first deer hunt I became a student of the outdoor pursuits. I have become keenly interested in how we as outdoors folks interact within the greater scope of man’s society and how man’s modern society views our activities within nature. When one lays a timeline of the evolution of the outdoor pursuits within modern society over the corresponding timeline of the evolution of overall human society, interesting facts jump from the analysis. It appears that the outdoor pursuits began loosing their way after WWII and they have been searching for their collective identity for several decades since. From the 1950’s through today, as man’s society has become increasingly industrialized and mechanized, for some the outdoor pursuits have become less a necessity, descending to the label of a pastime or sport by large societal cross sections. As the population moved from the farm to major urban areas where mechanized agriculture fed more and more of the population, personal responsibility for sustenance became optional. Astonishingly, in just six short decades, there are those who have come to believe that participating within Nature’s Economy through harvesting wildlife for food and clothing has been relegated from natural participation within the fabric of Mother Nature to a cruel and inhumane barbaric activity pursued by the cruel and ignorant.

Hmmm, the cruel and ignorant. Really? This is not a description that I accept.

The people today who are passionate about trapping, hunting, and fishing are the very same types of self sufficient souls that provided the foundation for our human society. Seed stock I think would be an accurate description- a safety net for society, a reset button, much like the “Doomsday” seed vault currently being constructed on an island in the Arctic Ocean. With financial supporters the likes of Bill Gates, the Rockefeller Foundation, Monsanto Corporation, Syngenta Corporation, various governments, and others investing literally millions in this project, it seems there is value in seed stock, a great deal of value. These financial, technology, and industrial giants see value in a backup plan, just in case we need to start all over. Like the seeds for restarting agriculture, preserving the independent and self sufficient personalities in this world is as important as maintaining a good foundation for a dwelling. Without the foundation, eventually all the rest is for not.

Ironic as it is, through technology I see great promise for the future of outdoor pursuits. While modern conveniences have embolden some misinformed and wrong headed groups to attack us with unscientific, emotionally based, flawed reasoning, modern technology will bring the truth to life. Along with a millennium of natural history on our side, as more and more outdoor enthusiasts become more computer and video savvy, real life video sequences will bring the brutally beautiful yet coldly indifferent truth about life and death in nature to the living rooms of all those who are open to the truth. The great bulk of real life hunting sequences will depict harvests that are exponentially more humane than the treatment those same game animals receive from predators in nature. The great bulk of real life trapping sequences will show, after the initial catch, calm and resting fur bearers in modern leg hold traps as opposed to those harassed and manipulated to the point of exacerbation for effect as depicted in anti propaganda. For decades now there has been a storm directed our way designed to quench the fire of human participation in nature. But the perfect storm is brewing for our benefit.

Modern technology will bring forth the truth - the perfect storm is coming. Beaver taken quickly and efficiently with modern trapping methods - much more humane than even Mother Nature herself would have afforded them. Greg and Alex Stephens, Missouri trapping season 2008

In this modern age I can see the perfect storm bringing our collective identity back to the outdoor pursuits. No longer just a sport, rather, the perfect storm of truth pertaining to nature, personal responsibility, modern technology, health and nutrition, modern equipment, and tough economic times will sway public sentiment in support of the outdoor pursuits. It is truly an exciting time for the outdoor types and we need to be interacting with all sorts from society proclaiming that the perfect design of Nature’s Economy cannot possibly be wrong. We need to be part of that brewing perfect storm. So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly.

Greg Stephens is a 35-year veteran & life-time student of the great outdoors. His column appears weekly in print & online publications. You can email him at gregstephens@one-eyedhillbilly.com. For more columns go to www.one-eyedhillbilly.blogspot.com.

Rookies, Mentors, and Legends

Trapping mentor and Ozark trapping legend, Kenny Wells on the Current River.

They say a child’s attention span is equal in minutes to their age in years. After this past spring turkey season I would say that estimate is way too generous. As I sat under a tree turkey hunting with my 6 year old son Coleman sitting between my legs, I began to wonder about what his young life held in store for him. I thought of my own journey through life and who helped shape the course that has put me where I am today. Today on the subject of raising children apparently there is a book that advances the notion that it ‘takes the village’ to raise a child. Hogwash I say. It takes a good set of parents who have the good judgment to expose a child to the right influences. ‘The village’ of today’s pop culture is not any village that the folks from the hills would have raise their children! I thank God every day for the role models and mentors to whom I was introduced and from whom I took heed. For Coleman, as I watched him set there between my legs and begin to fidget after barely two minutes, I hoped that I was able to do as good a job for him as my parents had done for me.

As for a child and mentors and role models in the outdoors, Dad started me fishing around 4 to 5 years old. From that time on, every time he set out on a fishing trip I cried to go along. At 6 years old, having just learned to fish the year before, I felt I was entitled to go with him and the guys on the annual pilgrimage to Toledo Bend, Texas to bass fish on the legendary lake. I was sadly mistaken! I cried for the first two days they were gone. Today what strikes me as the important issue is the urgency with which I wanted to go along. And, it wasn’t just the fishing, rather, it was fishing with Dad that I wanted to do so desperately. He was my role model and I wanted to be just like him. Don’t get me wrong, he made mistakes, as we all do but now in my forties I understand he did a tremendous amount right. Just as my father had been for me, it was now time for me to be a mentor and role model in the outdoors for my six year old son Coleman, who was now stretching his arms straight up in the air and yawning as he sat between my legs. He said, “Dad, I’m tired and I can’t sleep here. I’m ready to go home.” It had been about three minutes since we sat down. It was beginning to look like Coleman was going to be a difficult case!

As Coleman settled down once again I again drifted off thinking of others who have had an effect on my outdoor life. I believe from the influences of your mother and father you also develop a keen sixth sense of judgment about people’s character and values. Some years after being firmly established in the Ozark ways of hunting and fishing by my father and his many friends, I became acquainted with a true Ozark trapping legend, Kenny Wells, who took me under his wing and taught me the ways of the Ozark mountain men free trappers of years gone by. In true Missouri mountain man form, his actions are a testament to his character and values. During the 1980’s in a hard fought federal court battle, through Kenny’s hard work on behalf of trappers statewide, on the Current River trapping was solidified as an original activity covered by the law establishing the Ozark National Scenic Riverways. Through his dedication to trapping, the 9th District of the Missouri Trappers Association was formed. Through his hope for the future of young people in the outdoors, he has volunteered and taught many the art of fur trapping. Just about the time Coleman started looking around and fidgeting again I remember thinking that these were the hard-nosed, ambitious, and forward thinking traits of an Ozark mountain man that I hoped to instill in my boys.

Rookies - Brothers Alex and Coleman Stephens. Kids who hunt, fish, and trap don’t mug little old ladies.

At that moment Colman’s body went rigid. He was staring at his arm and he exclaimed, “tick, Tick, TICK!” We had been there for five minutes. My son Alex was sitting about 15 feet away and he broke out laughing just about the time I was getting irritated and told Coleman that we don’t talk out loud and freak out over a tick in the turkey woods. Then, because of his brother laughing, Coleman started laughing, and as hard as I tried to put on a stern face, I finally burst out laughing too! After we finally calmed down Coleman let out a big sigh and said, “Dad, you sit here and call for the turkeys. I’m going to walk back in the woods and look for flowers. When the turkeys get close, call me and I’ll come back over here.” I now think mentoring Coleman might take longer than I had anticipated! However, it’s a task that a father looks forward to with great anticipation. I hope you decide to be a role model and mentor for a young person, you never know, it might be one of the greatest influences in their lives. So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly.

Dog Days on the Creek Bank

Mom, LaDonna Stephens, and Coleman, beating the heat in the Current River.

Believe it or not, there are numerous fishing and hunting opportunities in the Ozarks for an outdoorsman as July rounds the corner. So why don’t we read more about traditional 4^th of July squirrel hunting camps or Independence Day predator hunts or trophy smallmouth excursions piggy-backed with patriotic fireworks displays? I mean it is smallmouth bass, trout, and bullfrog seasons for fishing and its coyote and squirrel season for hunting. The only answer I can come up with is that, regardless of an Ozark mountain man’s love for trapping, hunting, and fishing, its just so hot and muggy that you feel about as energetic as an ol’ hound lying on a cool, concrete front porch. It would be great to be frying up some fresh young squirrel or chasing big smallmouth down an Ozark creek, but the mixture of extreme heat, sweaty, sticky clothes and burning eyes, and insects biting and crawling all over your body, somehow puts a damper on the excitement. So, ‘when in the Ozarks in the summertime, do as the Hillbillies do’ and don’t get far from the swimmin’ hole on the creek or lake.

That’s not to say we don’t hunt or fish in the summer. If a squirrel runs across the yard while we’re sitting on the porch with the .22, he might not be safe. And, if a nice bluegill wants to tug down the bobber while we’re cookin’ over the campfire on the creek bank, well, we’ll throw him into the pan too. I mean, as dad used to say, “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” But we’re probably not going to get fired-up and hit the woods and water all day long like it was the spring, fall, or winter.

Last weekend I thought about squirrel hunting or fishing but it was in the mid 90’s and the Current River is a constant and cool 58° F - 60° F the year round. So the family and I packed the charcoal, brats, sweet tea, and swimming trunks into the Jeep and headed for the river. The squirrels and fish were safe this time around – it was so hot we didn’t even take the gun or fishing poles. The only hunting we were doing was hunting for relief from the heat. And boy did we find it at Parker’s Ford on the Current River. Just at the spot where Schafer Springs lets out into the Current it is a perfect spot for families with young and older children alike. The spring branch provides for a cool and shallow spot for young kids to swim under the watchful eyes of adults, while the Current provides shoots and deep holes in both directions from the confluence for the older kids and adults to swim.

Isn’t it amazing how the older kids always have to test the ‘old man’ when swimming at the river. First our 13 year old, Alex tried his hand at dunking me and then our 13 year old girl, Ashley, joined in the fray. After much thrashing, screaming, and yelling they both ended up under the water. Then, our 6 year old, Coleman, wanted me to swim with him down the rapid, waste-deep shoot. He was scared to try it himself so he urgently pleaded with me to hold him through the ride. While I brought him reassurance in the fast and deep water, little did he know that he older kids had zapped all my energy earlier in our dunking contest and now his life vest was holding up both of us! After our meal and swimming was done and it was time to go, although I was exhausted, we had managed to beat the heat on this treasure of a Sunday afternoon.

The One-Eyed Hillbilly and the young-uns - Coleman, Ashley, and Alex, just before the dunking competition.

Open-fire cooked brats, sweet tea, cold watermelon, and refreshing and cool water for swimming, not even taking into consideration the beautiful setting of a crisp, clean Ozark river, this is a true treasure and memory for a lifetime. What is amazing is that these types of quick outdoor excursions are within 45 minutes of almost every household in southern Missouri but in today’s hustle-and-bustle world we forget to take advantage of them. As I stood in the river shoot listening to Coleman, my six year old, screaming to “hold on to me Dad!”, I wondered how many more years that would happen. I’m glad we went swimming this past weekend because someday sooner than the kids can understand, mom and dad will be gone but the lessons, places, and memories with mom and dad in the Great Outdoors will last a lifetime. So says the One-Eyed Hillbilly. Good luck, be safe, and get a big one.