Last Friday night we made it home to the northern Ozarks for Christmas in time to pay a visit to our good friends Kenny and Mary Lou Wells. My son Alex and I showed up around 6:00 pm and sat at the kitchen table for 2 hours catching up. As is our typical habit, Kenny and I discussed and solved the problems of the world as they pertain to government. Over the years I have come to trust, appreciate and believe in the common sense solutions of Ozark hills mountain folk to most any problem and Kenny and I share common ground in that regard. Generally, there’s not pretty Christmas gift wrapping on mountain folk solutions – they tend to be quite raw and mimic nature. The hill folk solution to the problem will always be well thought out and fair to any fella that wants to help himself… and pretty dismal for the fella that waits for a handout.
On the way to town Alex and I remarked on how badly we wanted to boil and wax our traps in order to get some steel in the ground this year, however, it was going to be difficult with the work schedule that I have before me this winter. As we discussed our trapping possibilities we drove through the small community of Doss, MO, and the overpowering smell of skunk poured in to the truck. Apparently someone had got a little too close for Pepe’ Le Pew’s liking and he sprayed all over the highway. Now, not only were we wanting to trap but, to make matters worse, we were smellin’ the old familiar smells of trappin’ season too!
Christmas Eve morning I met Kenny and we headed for the trap line. Now for me the first night of having traps in the ground is generally not my most successful run. And apparently my luck rubbed off on Kenny because he only had one trap that had received any action and it was empty just the same! No fur. We did manage to set out 4 more great looking land sets and we told old stories about days gone by. At the end of the morning we wished each other Merry Christmas and headed home. Christmas Eve night I knew that I would be having visions of coyotes and bobcats dancing in my head while the kids were seeing those sugar-plumbs.
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