Category: Love of the Sport

If the World Only had a Front Porch

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • My story began with a song by country singer Tracy Lawrence, titled “If the World Had a Front Porch.”
  • If neighbors or someone else were out walking or drove by and stopped, they were invited to sit on the front porch.
  • Sometimes, on that front porch, I would skin squirrels, rabbits, a raccoon, or quail that I got with Grandpa’s old shotgun.

By Larry Whiteley

I was returning from a camping and fishing trip one day recently and decided to drive by the farmhouse where I was born, on my Grandma and Grandpa’s farm. The house, the old barn, the smokehouse, the chicken coop, and the outhouse were no longer there. They were torn down many years ago.

Summertime on the front porch and the living is easy.

I got out of my truck and started walking around the bare land. There was nothing left for anyone to know that this had once been a place where many happy memories were made. As I walked, I could see in my mind’s eye everything that was once there.

As I kept walking, I heard the sound of gurgling water. I walked up the hill behind where the old barn stood. The old spring I used to haul water for drinking, baths, and Grandma’s cooking was still there. We also stored milk from our Jersey cow named Daisy in its cold water. I filled my cupped hand with its water and sipped a drink just as I used to do many years ago.

On my way back to my truck, I stopped again where the old farmhouse had been. It remembered the big front porch. We spent lots of time there in every season but winter when I was a kid growing up. During the summer we spent time on that front porch at the end of the day after all the chores were done. There was no air conditioning back then. Even if there was, we had no electricity.

Grandpa would light a kerosene lantern and whittle on a piece of wood while smoking his pipe and sitting in his rocking chair. I still have that chair. Grandma would read her Bible by the light of the lantern, or mend clothing by hand with needle and thread.

Sometimes, on that front porch, I would skin squirrels, rabbits, a raccoon, or quail that I got with Grandpa’s old shotgun or from my trap line. Sometimes I would clean frogs or fish.

Anytime is a good time to sit on the front porch, but it seems Spring is a best time.

Chickens would be walking around in the yard. Their dogs, Trixie and Blackie, would lay on the front porch worn out from their busy day chasing squirrels and rabbits. When I was younger, I would run around catching fireflies and put them in a Mason jar with holes in the lid. We listened to the sounds of whip-poor-wills and owls hooting.

It was hard to leave the memories that day, but we had church that night and I knew my wife would be waiting. I got back in my truck and started toward home. On the way, I passed by the town where I spent my teenage years after Grandpa died and we left the farm.

The old main street was still there, but none of the businesses I remember from back then. The cafe, drug store, hardware store, post office, barber shop, doctor’s office, and pool hall were no longer there.

South of Main Street was the school I attended for all twelve years. It was now used for offices in the school district. The high school is across town and a hundred times bigger than the one I attended. The Junior High and several elementary schools are scattered around the town. It had grown into a big city I hardly recognized. Fast food choices, shopping centers, and housing developments were everywhere.

I decided to drive by some of the old houses we lived in before I left to serve our country and start my own life. Driving through some of the old neighborhoods I could still recognize, I noticed that the houses all had front porches, just like we did on the farm.

The Fall season on the front porch is wonderful.

It was a time before televisions and computers dominated people’s lives and kept them indoors. A time before a porch in the front got much smaller, and people built backyard patios or decks with tall, wooden fences around them. Today, most people are unaware of their neighbors on the other side of the fence. We stay in our little world.

It was a time when we did not worry about crime. It was a time when life did not seem so hectic and sometimes scary. I don’t think we were as busy back then. It was a time when people would sit on front porches, reading the newspaper or the Bible, playing checkers, or talking face-to-face with each other, instead of using smartphones.

During Summer, they would fan themselves and try to stay cool under the shade of the front porch. If neighbors or someone else were out walking or drove by and stopped, they were invited to sit on the front porch and enjoy a glass of tea or lemonade. Maybe even a bowl of homemade ice cream or a plate of sliced watermelon.

They enjoyed their front porches in the Spring as they watched flowers bloom and listened to birds sing. When Fall arrived, they would sit on their front porch enjoying the colors of the leaves. Sometimes in Winter, they were on their front porch watching the snow fall.

Women talked of kids and grandkids, what was happening at church, shared Bible verses, and showed off their flower or vegetable garden. Most of the men were veterans of World War II or the Korean War. There were always a few war stories shared. Politics was a topic of conversation, but not like it is today in our divided nation.

There were times when I was a teenager, and I would come walking by and was invited to sit with folks on their front porch. The women would ask how Mom, Dad, and my siblings were doing. They wanted to know if I was going to college after high school. They always asked me if I was going to church.

The men wanted to know how my basketball or baseball season was going. They would ask if I was going to join the military. They all knew I loved the outdoors and would share their memories of hunting and fishing stories with me.

Dress warm and enjoy the front porch during every season of the year.

They would also ask about my latest hunting and fishing adventures, of which there were many to share with them. They knew I loved to go gigging for frogs on summer nights and would hint to me how much they liked fried frog legs, hoping I would offer to bring them some. They would also tell me how much they liked fried crappie and fried sucker fish. There were times I would take some of them both. They loved it when I did that.

Later in life, my wife and I bought a cabin in the woods on a bluff. It had a front porch where we could see the creek below and the waterfall cascading down the hill. We spent many hours on that front porch enjoying family, friends, and hummingbirds.

When I think about it, some of my best memories came from sitting on front porches. Front porches from those years were where some of life’s greatest moments unfolded for me. I am sure when people my age think about it, they would probably say the same.

The idea for this story has been floating around in my head for quite some time. It started with a song by country singer Tracy Lawrence called If the World Had a Front Porch.

If the world had a front porch like we did back then,

We’d still have problems, but we’d all be friends.

Treatin’ your neighbor like he’s your next of kin,

wouldn’t be gone like the wind.

If the world had a front porch like we did back then.

Maybe, we need to get Democrats and Republicans together on a front porch. Maybe, we need to get the leaders of other countries together on a front porch. We would probably still have some problems, but maybe we could all strive to be friends. It could help change the world before it is gone like the wind. If only the world had a front porch like we did back then.

A Time To Be By Yourself

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • With all that is happening in America and the world, I put my thoughts into words and hope STO readers enjoy this and go and spend time outdoors by themself.

By Larry Whiteley

Sometimes, a feeling comes over me, and I know I must get away by myself to a place where I cannot do anything but relax and think. A place away from negative news of riots, illegal aliens, wars, and all the other bad stuff going on in the world.

I have no problem being by myself. I enjoy it. As a kid growing up on the farm, I spent a lot of time by myself out hunting squirrels or fishing in the creek. I also had a special tree I liked to climb. In its comforting limbs, I would daydream.

One of my special, by-myself places was lying in the hay in the barn loft and listening to rain hitting the old tin roof. I also had a secret place deep in the woods where I built a tiny cabin with limbs and mud. The roof was an old piece of tin. I took my BB gun with me to fight off Indians or German soldiers.

When I got older, Fall was, and still is, my favorite time to be by myself outdoors. It was hunting time. I was in tree stands and blinds hunting deer, turkeys, and ducks. I marveled at the kaleidoscope of colors that surrounded me. I enjoyed the cool nip in the air.

I walked in the woods and fields by myself in the Spring while I searched for mushrooms and turkeys. During the Summer, I would find a creek that few people knew about and do some fishing. Sometimes I would take my clothes off and go for a swim or I would catch crawdads to fish with or boil up and eat. At night, I would go gigging for frogs along its banks.

When Winter came, I would leave the warmth of home and venture outdoors into a winter wonderland of freshly fallen snow. I loved to follow the tracks of the animals that lived in the fields and forests. I would hike through the hills and marvel at icicles hanging from the rock bluffs and beautiful frost flowers created by the cold air and moisture from weeds and plants. Once you see them, you will never forget them.

After I married, we had kids, and I passed on to them what I had learned and experienced from all the time I had spent doing things by myself. I told them that being with family and friends is very important. So is time by themselves. It is for all of you reading this. It can change and shape your life.

Our kids are married now and have grown kids of their own. They enjoy fishing, hunting, camping, and hiking together. They also know the value and importance of finding time by themselves.

I get up every morning, every season of the year, and go outdoors. I sit and watch the sunrise and talk to God. Birds come into our feeders. Squirrels look for acorns. Rabbits nibble on the grass. I sip my coffee and enjoy the show. When evening arrives, I am out there again enjoying the sunset or the moonrise. I thank God for how he has blessed me.

That urge to be by myself, I have done so many times in my life, is coming on again. It has been building for a few months, and I must go. To a valley, by a creek, surrounded by wooded hills. Maybe I will take my fishing rod. Maybe I will take my hiking shoes. Maybe I will take my camera. Maybe I will take my tent and camp on a hill where I can see the beautiful country around me. Maybe I will take a hammock and hang it between two trees. Maybe, I will take a book. Maybe I will work on a story like this one.

For breakfast, I will fry bacon and eggs in a skillet over a campfire. Lunch will be snack food. For dinner, I will take some potatoes to fry in that skillet or wrap in foil and bake in that campfire. I will catch fish to go along with some potatoes. If I don’t catch any fish, I will eat just potatoes.

None of that matters much. Each of us will have our own ideas of what we need and where we want to go to spend some time alone. We need to keep it simple for this to work for us. Most importantly, do not take too much of anything and do it alone.

I will fish a little. Lie around. Read. Gather some firewood. Go for a swim in the creek. Lie around. Contemplate what it was like when Indians or settlers were there. Look at cloud shapes. Lie around. Listen to the water flowing and wonder where it goes on its journey. Skip rocks. Look for arrowheads. Take a nap. Build a campfire. Look at the stars and thank God for what He has done in my life. Thank Him for my family, my church, and all that He has created for me to enjoy all these years, and what few years I have left.

My mind will be free to drift where it will, thinking about things that matter a lot. To think about things that matter very little. It is easier to do all that when you are alone, away from this crowded and broken world we all live in today.

It is much easier to think objectively about life, marriage, children, grandchildren, friends, goals, dreams, and God when you focus mostly on the sky, trees, the land around you, and flowing water.

There is much to be said about finding time in this busy world for a little solitary time away from crowded roads with bumper-to-bumper traffic. Time away from television screens, computer screens, and smartphone screens. It helps you get acquainted with yourself again. Get down to the essentials of life. Enjoy getting to know yourself again. Discovering who you are.

You will know when the time is right for you. A time when you need to escape somewhere. A place to get away to where your soul and mind can be free to roam for a while. It may not be the way I do it. It may be a quiet time at a park, on your porch, or in your backyard. Being outdoors when you do it is an essential factor in making this work.

Wherever it is, whenever it is, find a time to be by yourself.

SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT

 I wondered why places are so much lovelier when one is alone. 

– Daphne du Maurier

 

 

New Postage Stamps Capture the Essence of Fishing

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • The five stamps feature a popper, spoon, crankbait, spinner, and wake bait.
  • Each stamp is valid for one ounce of First-Class postage.
  • The stamps were unveiled at the Johnny Morris Wonders of Wildlife National Museum & Aquarium in Springfield, Missouri, a location known for its rich fishing history and as a hub for fishing enthusiasts, on March 13, 2025.

By Forrest Fisher

There is something special about catching a fish with a carved piece of painted wood or metal with attached hooks. What was that fish thinking? Curiosity is a powerful element in life. Last month, on March 13, the United States Postal Service (USPS) issued its new series of fishing lures stamps at the Johnny Morris Wonders of Wildlife National Museum & Aquarium in Springfield, Missouri – the stamps are beautiful.

The freshwater fishing lure stamp series features heritage lure designs, many with a historical connection.

“With these stamps, the Postal Service celebrates the beauty and ingenuity behind some of America’s most successful lures,” said John DiPeri, the Postal Service’s Western Region vice president, who spoke at the event held at Johnny Morris’ Wonders of Wildlife National Museum and Aquarium. “Fish find each of these designs irresistible … and we think you will, too,” DiPeri said. Other speakers included Misty Mitchell, Director of Conservation Education at the Johnny Morris Foundation; Mike Webb, owner of Webb’s Guide Service; Pat Taggart, president of the Springfield Chapter of the Missouri Trout Fisherman’s Association; JP Sell, National Youth Fishing Association director; and Francis Skalicky, a media specialist for the Missouri Department of Conservation. “Fishing lures are more than just tools — they represent tradition, innovation, and a deep connection to the great outdoors,” said Lee Beasley, campus director at Bass Pro Shops, who served as master of ceremonies.

The Forever Stamps feature close-up photographs of five popular lure designs. From the earliest handmade wooden lures to modern swimbaits made of advanced materials, countless freshwater fishing lures are available, each designed to meet the specific purpose of the angler.

With all their colorful and prismatic variations, some of today’s lures are pretty good at catching the angler, not the fish, but these stamps reflect the heritage of age-old, time-proven fishing lures.

Crankbaits, or plugs, are popular among anglers because they are relatively easy to use. They attract a variety of fish, including bass, walleye and pike. A plastic lip and curved body create the lure’s unique swimming action, allowing it to dive and wiggle just by casting out and reeling in. Anglers run these lures along the bottom, bouncing them off rocks, logs, or other submerged structures.

The in-line spinner lure mimics the movement of a swimming bait fish, attracting predator fish with a spinning blade and a weighted body that creates vibration in the water. Spinners often have tails dressed with feathers, animal hair, or an undulating rubber skirt to attract bass, trout, pike, and other species in shallow streams, deeper rivers, and lakes.

Spoon lures, named for their concave shape, have a rich history dating back to the 1800s. It is believed that a blacksmith in Vermont created the first spoon lure by sawing off the handle of a tablespoon and attaching a hook. This historical connection provides special honor to the tradition of fishing.

Topwater lures float on the surface of the water and are extremely popular. Wake baits use metal or plastic wings to create a commotion like a boat’s wake as they skim the surface. A popper has a concave face that makes a popping sound when pulled across the water.

Greg Breeding, an art director for USPS, meticulously designed the stamps using original photographs by Sarah Cramer Shields. As Forever Stamps, each freshwater fishing lure stamp in the series is valid for one ounce of First-Class Mail. Their work transforms these utilitarian objects that catch fish into miniature pieces of art in the stamps, highlighting the craftsmanship involved in fishing lure design.

The fishing lure stamp series celebrates the enduring allure of fishing, capturing the sport’s essence and place in American culture. I’m headed to the Post Office right now. Forever Stamps of every sort are now 73 cents each. I might not buy gas this week.

Gotta love the outdoors.

Angels without Wings

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

By Larry Whiteley

I saw a sign the other day that said – And God said, I will send them without wings so no one suspects they are angels. It also had a big paw print on it. Our family and most of you would agree that dogs are angels without wings. They are loyal, protective, and pure-hearted. They show us humans what unconditional love is.

Willie and Maverick love wearing costumes.

When commanded, they sit, then stay, then roll over. Their owners sometimes dress them up in costumes. They chase tails, fetch sticks, and lift spirits. They hunt, fish, camp, boat, and hike with you. They help you around the farm. They are your companion and love you without judgment.

With supportive eyes, they can lift the spirits of a broken heart and even lick the tears away. They remain patient and loyal. They do not care how rich or poor you are. They care and cuddle, snuggle and nuzzle. They cheer and charm, snore and slobber. They eat the trash and chase the squirrels or the neighborhood cat.

They bring us together as a family. A dog does not see your flaws. They do see their favorite person in the world. They bark, pant, and wag their tail when someone says something about going for a ride in the car. A dog will do all of that and much more. A dog will never break your heart until it is time for them to say goodbye.

I have said goodbye to many dogs in my life. Trixie and Blackie were both mixed breed dogs on Grandpa and Grandma’s farm where I was born. One of their jobs was to protect Grandma’s chickens from hawks and coyotes. They also ran off any other unwelcome critters, or humans, that came around.

As a kid, I explored around the farm. They were always there with me. Watching over me and showing me love and companionship, only a dog can give.

I remember crying when a rabid skunk bit Trixie. Grandpa had to shoot her. Blackie remained my buddy and was constantly with me around the farm. He died of old age. I cried again.

After Grandpa passed away, Grandma moved to town. Mom and Dad took over the farm. They were not dog lovers. I had no dog buddies except for my neighbor’s dog, Bo. He was a cross between a Cocker Spaniel and a Beagle with a snub tail.

Memphis sitting on his ATV waiting for a ride.

He loved to go squirrel hunting with me. He was getting old and had a lot of grays around his muzzle. On our last hunt together, he took off barking after a squirrel I had shot and wounded. The barking suddenly stopped. I found Bo lying motionless in some bushes. The squirrel was in his mouth. I buried him that way.

When my parents divorced, I had to leave the farm and move to town with Mom. I had no more dogs until I married, and we had kids. A German Shepherd named Buster was the first of many dogs in our family. What I remember most about Buster was how protective he was with our boys when they were little. When we walked along the road in front of our house, Buster always walked beside them to put himself between them and cars that came by.

He would sometimes wander around the neighborhood. One day, he never came home. Buster was a good-looking German Shepherd. My wife figured someone had stolen him. He finally did come home, but he looked like someone had mistreated him. We loved on him and nursed him back to health. Later, he would disappear again and never return. If he could have, he would have. We were his family.

Our oldest son came home one day with two Beagle puppies in the pockets of his coveralls. We called them Bo-Bo and Junior. Our middle son became especially attached to them. He went looking for Junior one day and found him in a trap. Somebody had shot him. He cried. Months later, Bo-Bo went exploring and never came home. We all have great memories of both.

Our youngest son also had a dog that was his buddy when he was still living at home. Hershey was a Chocolate Labrador and would be the first of many dogs in his life. We all loved that dog.

One day, a friend up the road gave us a blond-haired Poodle that became special to my wife. He was not afraid to fight any dog around. Buffy took on the oldest son’s Blue Tick Hound and several neighbor dogs. It did not matter to him how big they were. We broke up several fights he started.

A dog has a life expectancy of 10 to 13 years. Buffy was part of our family for 13 years. We buried him among the trees on the hill behind our house. A flat rock with his name carved in it marks his grave. It is a tribute to how much Buffy meant to us.

Then, there was our beautiful white German Shepherd named Jed. I love to read books and watch movies about the era of life when Mountain Men roamed the Rocky Mountains hunting and trapping. His name came from Mountain Man Jedediah Smith. One day, he left and never came home. We think a neighbor shot him because he thought he was chasing cattle. I still miss Jed.

The oldest son remained a dog lover after he moved away from home. At one time, he had seven different breeds of dogs of all sizes all at one time. His favorite dog was a mixed breed named Dingo. He had Dingo for eight years before he died of old age. He now has his buddy Stormy, another mixed breed.

When our middle son moved out and married, he had a mutt of a dog named Saspy that was special to him and us. He eventually died of old age. Then came Memphis, a Golden Retriever their two kids grew up with. We all loved Memphis.

He enjoyed our cabin with his family and riding around on our ATV. If we were in the cabin and looked out the window, Memphis would be sitting on the ATV, waiting for someone to take him for a ride.

Memphis developed a congenital heart disease. I went over to check on him when they were at work. I remember lying on the floor, petting and talking to him. He could not lift his head to drink out of his bowl. I would put water in my hand and hold it where he could lick it out.

I told him we all loved him, and his family would be alright. I told him he could close his eyes and go to dog heaven. A few days later, our son took him to the veterinarian to have him put to sleep so he would not suffer. Pictures of him are still on display around their house and our house. He was a special dog to all of us.

It took our son a while to get over the loss of Memphis and get another dog. Partly because they now had grand dogs to enjoy. His kids kept encouraging him to get a dog. They now have another Golden Retriever named Murphy. He says he is a goofball. He loves that dog like all the rest he has had.

Their son married a dog lover, too. His wife also grew up in a dog-loving family. Maverick is their Golden Retriever. Our grandson was into hunting ducks, so his wife got Maverick for him. Then, a little black bundle of energy named Willie joined their family. He is a Cavapoo, a cross between a Spaniel and a Poodle.

Dak and Max with their buddies.

Both dogs love to go out on the boat fishing or play in the water. Of course, they have their life jackets on. Our granddaughter-in-law even dresses them up in outfits for the holidays. Both are pretty special to all of us.

Our middle son’s daughter and her husband have two dogs, Max and Dak. Max is a rescue dog nobody wanted. She got him when she was still living at home. She says Max is her cuddle buddy and can turn anyone into a dog person.

Max is my buddy. I have fallen asleep with my arm around him while dog-sitting. He likes it when I or anyone else scratches his belly. We have also been on many walks together.

Dak is the newest member of their family. He is a German Shepherd/Malamute mix. She says he keeps them entertained. They never know when he will be a crazy man or a cuddle bug like Max. Dak always gives her a hug when she gets home from work. He is up for any adventure with his family.

Our youngest son, his wife, and our grandsons live in Wisconsin. The oldest is in college. The youngest is a Senior in high school. They are dog lovers like the rest of us. When the boys were young, they had Alex or Al Pal, as they called him. Our son called him a mutt. He was some special breed. They never found out what. At the same time, they also had Taylor, a Golden Retriever we all called Tatoes.

Later, they had two big English Mastiffs named Belle and Boulder. Then, a Golden Retriever named Harley. They are now gone. But there is now another English Mastiff named Apollo. He loves sleeping with Mom and Dad. He is a big goof and slobbers a lot. He is loved anyway.

Then there is the little yapper Rodger, aka Rodger Dodger, who likes to bark at anything. What he is doing is protecting his home and his family. Over the years, Rodger has become my buddy. I know he misses me when I am not there.

Dogs have all been a special part of the generations of our family. If you and your family are dog lovers, you can relate to a lot of this story because you also have dog stories of your own. Memories of them make you laugh or make you cry.

If you do not have dogs, I hope this story encourages you to become a dog family. You will be glad you did. It can change the lives of you, your family and your dog or dogs for the better.

We have great memories of all our dogs that are no longer here. We are thankful for those we still have who bring so much joy to our lives. They are family. They touch our hearts and our souls. They are blessings from God. To us, they are, or were, “Angels Without Wings.”

Henry Repeating Arms – Guns For Great Causes Program

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • Gunmaker’s charitable branch, Guns for Great Causes, aims to give back and balance the narrative about firearm manufacturers
  • Henry Repeating Arms has donated over $3.5 million through Guns For Great Causes endeavors.

Compiled by Forrest Fisher

Henry Repeating Arms was started by Louis and Anthony Imperato in Brooklyn, New York, in 1996. The first model produced was the Henry H001 Classic Lever Action .22, and the first shipments were made in March 1997. Since then. their firearm products have become cherished collectibles.

In 2022, Henry Founder & CEO Anthony Imperato pledged to donate $1 million through its Guns for Great Causes charitable arm to celebrate the company’s twenty-fifth year in business. Today, Henry Repeating Arms, one of the country’s leading firearms manufacturers and a world leader in the lever action category, has donated so much more, adding hope and financial support for many causes.

Guns For Great Causes is the charitable arm of Henry Repeating Arms. Its primary focus is on pediatric cancer – providing financial relief to families of sick children and donations to children’s cancer hospitals. In addition, Guns For Great Causes benefits military veterans, law enforcement, and first responder organizations, particularly those assisting the wounded, injured, and the families of those who lost their lives in the line of duty. Wildlife conservation, preserving and promoting America’s shooting sports traditions, firearm safety education, and 2nd Amendment advocacy are all additional beneficiaries of Henry’s Guns for Great Causes program. 100% of all Guns For Great Causes firearms sales are donated. Since its inception, Henry Repeating Arms has donated over $3.5 million through Guns For Great Causes endeavors. CLICK HERE to read more about Henry’s Guns For Great Causes.

During the Silver Anniversary year, CEO Anthony Imperato said, “I am most proud of being able to look back on the last twenty-five years of business and say with conviction that we were able to make a positive difference in the lives of others. More often than not, our industry is vilified and left with a perpetual black eye by the media. We, however, are determined to continue leading the charge in counteracting that narrative by showing how much positive impact we have as responsible corporate citizens.”

In addition, Henry Repeating Arms manages an ongoing program to provide financial relief to individual families of sick children going through treatments. This program involves creating, donating, and selling limited edition runs of custom engraved rifles, with the family receiving 100% of the sales.

Military veteran organizations, including the nation’s largest, like the American Legion and Veterans of Foreign Wars, and those specifically providing aid to the wounded and families of the fallen, like Disabled American Veterans, Building Homes for Heroes, and the Tunnel to Towers Foundation. In addition, charities benefiting law enforcement, first responders, and their families received financial support, including the Border Patrol Foundation, National Fallen Firefighters Foundation, and the First Responder’s Children’s Foundation. This support is a testament to our respect and value for their service.

Henry Repeating Arms also continued its unwavering support for some of the country’s most impactful wildlife and habitat conservation groups like the National Wild Turkey Federation, Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, Ducks Unlimited, Pheasants Forever, and Quail Forever with funding to assist with their efforts in conserving land and preserving access for future generations of hunters to enjoy. This commitment reassures us of the bright future of hunting. Henry also supported Second Amendment rights advocacy groups, those working to preserve and promote America’s shooting sports heritage, and programs responsible for teaching firearm safety and responsible ownership.

Click here to visit Henry Repeating Arms online to learn more.

Special Kids, Special Parents, Special Outdoors

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • Read the story – Despite their past, foster children raised with kindness, love, the outdoors, family and Christianity become very special children.
  • Special children are found through adoption and foster care – they grow together through campfires, family smores and the outdoors. 
  • Share fishing, archery, raising chickens and farm animals, target shooting, and hunting develops character, resilience and the growth of special children.

By Larry Whiteley

I remember Vicki and Penny from back in the 1950s. Gene and Estelle, my parents’ friends, brought them home one day. When I first met them, they were young kids. I grew up with them, not realizing until later that I had never seen them as babies.

 When I asked my mother about that, she explained that they were not born into their family. They were adopted into their family because their parents could not or would not take care of them. They were special kids.

Later in life, my cousin Nancy and her husband Gary adopted two young boys who were special kids. They were brothers named Shane and Sean. Our kids grew up with them. They spent many happy times together during holidays and family get-togethers.

When our youngest son Kelly and his wife Lexi married, they could not have kids. So, they adopted our grandson Ty from Guatemala. The following year, they adopted his brother Sam and brought him home to be with his brother.

Instead of a tough life growing up on the streets of Guatemala, they grew up on a farm in Wisconsin. They helped take care of the chickens and sheep. One of their favorite things with their dad was target shooting with pellet guns or bows and arrows.

Our Guatemalan grandsons grew up in our family.

They have fished, camped, hiked, and played in the water, both at their cabin on a Wisconsin river and when they visited us at our cabin in Missouri. Making smores around a campfire was a popular activity at both places.

Kelly, Lexi and the special Guatemalan boys have also visited many of our National Parks all over America. When Ty graduated high school, he wanted his mom, dad, and brother to go to another National Park together as a graduation gift.

They would have never done the things they have experienced in Guatemala. Ty is now in college, and Sam graduates from high school this year. They are young men now, but they are always in our hearts. I have no doubt they will pass on their love of the outdoors to their kids someday. Our prayer is that our son, who is battling cancer, will be there when the time comes to help teach his grandkids to enjoy the outdoors as he did their dad.

There are more of these special kids in my life. Greg and Jennifer from our church were also unable to have kids, so they went through the foster care system. Ado and Avayonna are brother and sister. When they got them, Ado was three, and Avayonna was two. They adopted them in 2014, and they are now eighteen and sixteen.

Feinoxx, Adonijah, Ashlynn, Avayonna. Mom and Dad on Christmas morning.

Ashlynn and Feinoxx came from different families, also through the foster care system when they were both one-year-old. They were adopted in 2013 and are now 14.

A few years ago, they sent me a picture of all of them for Christmas. It hangs on the wall in my home office. It says on it, “There are friends, there is family, and then there are friends that become family.” Sometimes, I look at that picture, and I have to wipe a tear away.

I have watched them grow up into fine young people. They are blessed to have grown up in America. They love the outdoors and have a great mom and dad who do things with them. They are all very special to me and always will be.

Ado plays in the band at one of our church services. He can play several musical instruments and loves cars and old trucks. He even has a car detailing business. Feinoxx posts the stories I write on my blog for me and likes to go deer hunting with his dad. Avayonna is quiet but still gives me hugs. Ashlynn has special needs and is non-verbal. Her eyes shine when she is around someone she loves. Her smile will melt your heart.

I cannot imagine what their lives would have been like without Greg and Jennifer. These special kids will also have kids one day. Grandma and Grandpa will be there for them.

Also, at our church, another family is a special part of my life. Austin and Ashton already had daughters, Emma and Arlie. They decided to try to adopt a boy. Instead of one, they took in four brothers from the foster care program. 11-year-old Aiden is the oldest, followed by nine-year-old Charles, eight-year-old Ryder, and six-year-old Jace. If I were to tell you how these boys had to live before Austin and Ashton brought them home, your heart would break. No kids should ever have to grow up like they were. But kids are going through things in their young lives all over America that they should not have to go through.

What they did for these boys changed the lives of four brothers forever. Because of Austin and Ashton, the boys enjoy and love the outdoors. They fish, hunt squirrels, target shoot, help build campfires, and more. Learning to enjoy the outdoors can change anyone.

They also have chores like feeding chickens, gathering eggs, feeding livestock, helping in the garden, and other things. They are learning life lessons and growing up in a family they know loves them.

The day Aiden, Charles, Ryder, and Jace were officially part of the family.

A new grandson named Beau recently joined the family. He will grow up with these special boys. I know all this because they call me Grandpa Larry. I am honored and blessed to have been adopted by them. I even got to help baptize Emma, Arlie, Aiden, and Charles. When Ryder and Chase are ready to make that decision, I will baptize them with their dad’s help.

Many children like these need what these kids have. Adoption and foster care are about stepping into the world of a child and promising you will love them, protect them, defend them, advocate for them, teach them, support them, actively listen to them, and absorb their hurt and pain. You can give them the comfort, safety, and stability they need, which are fundamental to their development and well-being.

The most important thing is to keep your promise no matter what. No matter if medical issues change how the child lives, reacts, responds, behaves, learns, and loves. No matter if they want to find their birth parents and leave you. No matter if they cannot give you emotionally what you give them. Keep your promise to them.

Our teenage grandsons on a Florida fishing trip with Dad and Uncle Daron.

Also, always remember that it is not about you. It is about a child deserving a home they did not have for whatever reason. You need to want to help and be committed to the kids. You will not only bless the lives of these kids, but also yourself. Your reward is when they put their arms around your neck and say thank you or, I love you!  As it says in the first part of Mark 9:37 – Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me.

Some of you have read this and would like to help. But you do not think you could ever do what these people have done and are doing. There are other ways you can help. Go online and search for organizations where you can donate money to help with what they do for kids. Or donate a little time to take these special kids outdoors to discover all it offers.  That can help change the lives of special kids.

Visit the National Foster Parent Association (national orgnabization for foster, kinship and adoptive parents) at https://nfpaonline.org and the National Council for Adoption (national non-profit adoption association) at https://adoptioncouncil.org to learn more and how to get involved.

From the editor: About the author – Visit https://www.storiesbylarry.com/ and https://www.sharetheoutdoors.com/tag/larry-whiteley/. Larry Whiteley is part of the The Great Ozarks Outdoors, Inc.; 417-830-9023; Philippians 4:13; “My profession is to always find God in nature” – Henry David Thoreau. 

Don’t Let the Old Man In

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
  • Jelly Roll said, “Toby inspired me to be a better American, a better human, a better songwriter and he inspired me to be a better father.”
  • Faith and family first, Toby Keith then he put love for his country and the men and women who serve or have served.
  • Toby’s daughter, Krystal Keith, said, “My daddy had a strong faith and relationship with Jesus.

By Larry Whiteley

My wife and I watched Toby Keith: American Icon on TV recently. It was a tribute to the country music star who died of stomach cancer this past February. I have always enjoyed listening to Toby. He was a country boy from Oklahoma that made it big, but he didn’t act like it. He was always just ole’ Toby.

Toby Keith at USO concert. Photo courtesy USO

The many country music stars that were there, performed their favorite Toby Keith songs. Some shared stories about him. Many tears flowed that night. I am not ashamed to say I wiped a few away.

I knew most of the songs they sang, but in the second half of the show, Jelly Roll sang a song I was not familiar with called, My List. He said, “Toby inspired me to be a better American, a better human, a better songwriter and, with songs like this, he inspired me to be a better father.”

The song, he said, was Toby’s “list” of things he wanted to get done. As he sang it, he would reflect on which things were important on his list, and which were not.

Under an old brass paperweight
Is my list of things to do today
Go to the bank and the hardware store
Put a new lock on the cellar door

I cross ’em off as I get ’em done
But when the sun is settled
There’s still more than a few things left
I haven’t got to yet

Go for a walk, say a little prayer
Take a deep breath of mountain air
Put on my glove and play some catch
It’s time that I make time for that

Wade the shore and cast a line
Look up an old lost friend of mine
Sit on the porch and give my girl a kiss
Start livin’, that’s the next thing on my list

It wouldn’t change the course of fate
The cutting the grass just had to wait
Because I’ve got more important things
Like pushin’ my kid on the backyard swing

I won’t break my back for a million bucks
I can’t take it to my grave
So why put it off for tomorrow
What I could get done today

Raise a little hell, laugh ’til it hurts
Put an extra five in the plate at church
Call up my folks to chat
It’s time that I make time for that

Stay up late, and oversleep
Show her what she means to me
Catch up on all the things I’ve always missed
Just start living, that’s the next thing on my list

Toby entertaining at Camp Victory in Iraq. Photo courtesy DVIDS

When Toby was growing up in Oklahoma, he loved to be outdoors hunting and fishing. His wife and family enjoyed and have many memories outdoors doing things together. Fishing was his favorite.

The outdoors was a stress reliever for Toby. It can be for all of us. It would have been a big part of his life after he retired from entertaining. He loved to be out in the nature that God created for all of us.

Even though many of his songs were about drinking, partying, and love for his country, Toby put faith and family first. Then he put his love for his country and the men and women who serve or have served.

Throughout his career, on his personal “list”, he put a priority on performing for our troops. He played more than 280 USO shows across 18 countries. He visited 132 military bases and locations to entertain more than 250,000 service men and women. He made more visits to active combat zones than the past four Presidents of the United States combined.

Toby’s daughter, Krystal Keith, also has her own career in country music. She said, “My daddy loved his family and friends. He also loved hunting, fishing, and the outdoors. You might not have known this by some of the songs that made him famous, but he also had a strong faith and relationship with Jesus. He got to a point in his battle with cancer that he told us, whatever happens, I know where I am going and I am at peace with that.”

Krystal sang the last song that night at her dad’s special tribute. It is my personal favorite of all of Toby’s songs – Don’t Let the Old Man In. What made it my favorite was that I too am getting old and doing my best to not let the old man in.

This is the true story about how he came to write the song. Toby was playing in a charity golf tournament in 2017. He was paired with legendary actor and Oscar-winning director, Clint Eastwood. They played their way through the course chatting about projects both were working on.

Eastwood said he was about to start directing and starring in a new movie called The Mule. Toby was amazed and asked Clint how, at almost 90 years old, he could remain as active and involved as he was. Eastwood thought for a moment, looked Toby right in the eye, and responded in that famous voice of his, “I don’t let the old man in.” Then he grinned.

Toby at Camp Courage in Iraq. Photo courtesy DVIDS

That same day, Toby begins writing a song inspired by his conversation with Clint. He was also inspired by something his grandmother had told him about a friend of who did not know her exact age due to her not ever having a birth certificate.

When Toby finished the song and recorded it, he sent it to Clint. When Clint heard it, he called Toby to tell him he loved it and asked if he could use it in his new movie about an old man. Of course, Toby said yes.

Toby Keith’s last television performance was last year at the People’s Choice Awards where he was presented the Country Icon award. Not many knew it then, but Toby was in great pain. Cancer was ravaging his body as he courageously walked on stage.

His wife of four decades and his kids were in the front row wiping tears. She knew that her husband was saying goodbye to his fans. Toby sang this song for the last time that night. Not only to his fans but to all of us, men and women, who are growing old. These are the words to his song –

Don’t let the old man in
I want to leave this alone
I can’t leave it up to him
He’s knocking on my door

And I knew all of my life
That someday it would end
Get up and go outside
Don’t let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how old would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born

 Try to love on your wife
And stay close to your friends
Toast each sundown with wine
Don’t let the old man in

Many moons I have lived
My body’s weathered and worn
Ask yourself how old would you be
If you didn’t know the day you were born

When he rides up on his horse
And you feel that cold bitter wind
Look out your window and smile
Don’t let the old man in

“Don’t Let the Old Man In” is a song about how the time comes for all of us when we grow old. Garth Brooks’s song, If Tomorrow Never Comes, reminds us that we never know when our time on earth is through. Some of you may not live to old age. Tim McGraw’s song, Live Like You Were Dying, encourages us to go ahead and do the things we would want to do if we knew we were dying.

Toby at a concert for soldiers in Iraq. Photo courtesy of the U.S. Army

Age is just a number. We cannot let growing old get to us. We should not worry that we could die at any time. We should live life to the fullest while we are here.

I will be celebrating my 78th birthday in a few months. I don’t know how many more years I have before the Good Lord Calls me home. Until then, I will continue to enjoy the outdoors any way I can and write about it to encourage others to get outdoors too. Doing that and other things will keep your mind and body active.

We should all work at always having a positive attitude whether we are young or old. Doing that, and having a strong faith in God is part of how to not let the old man or old woman in.

Like many of you, I have not always been who I am today. I messed up a lot, but God did not give up on me. I am still His work in progress. Like Toby, I know Jesus. I plan on being bold and telling as many people about Him as I can through words and actions before it is my time to go. I want others to have the peace I have of knowing where they are going when it is there time to go. How about you?

I encourage you to live each day like you were dying until tomorrow never comes. While you are doing that, don’t let the old man in.

 

Sunrises and Sunsets

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

By Larry Whiteley

Take time to watch the sky take on fiery reds and oranges as the sun sets. Larry Whiteley photo

There have been many sunrises and sunsets in my life.

When I was young, I didn’t pay much attention to them. I don’t think I ever got out of bed in time to see a sunrise when I was a kid. I don’t remember sunsets either.

As I got older, I spent many years watching sunrises and sunsets from deer stands, fishing boats, campsites, and hiking trails. I would look toward the sky and see them, but I don’t think I appreciated their beauty back then.

I am older now and have a stronger connection with sunrises and sunsets. To me, they are the best times of the whole day. I make an effort every day to be outdoors those few minutes when the sun is rising on the eastern horizon or setting on the western horizon. I take in their beauty with my eyes and with my camera.

I believe God created what I am seeing, the beautiful sunrises and sunsets. Larry Whiteley photo

Sometimes, while I am out there, I recall the time I was deer hunting and looking out over a frosted field. The sunrise shining on the field made it look like tiny diamonds. I also remember a morning when I was turkey hunting. A flock of turkeys stood on a hill silhouetted by the rising sun.

I have especially enjoyed the reflection sunrises and sunsets on the water while out fishing.  I can still see the majestic eagle one morning when I was out fishing. It was perched on a limb with the sunrise as a backdrop.

Sunrises and sunsets while out camping linger in the recesses of my mind. Sitting around my campfire watching them is something I will never forget. I am not sure how anyone can see that and not believe that God is watching over us.

Research shows that time in nature can boost mental health. New research suggests perhaps that looking at a sunset or sunrise can be an extra boost for your emotional state.

While I watch sunrises and sunsets, it is also my time to talk to God. I believe He created what I am seeing. I don’t care what scientific studies say about what causes beautiful sunrises and sunsets. I can read about it in my Bible. It talks of God’s creation in Genesis and says, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters. And God said, Let there be Light, and there was light. God saw the light was good, and He separated the light from the darkness. God called the light day and the darkness He called night. And there was evening and morning—the first day.”

There is nothing like a glorious sunrise or sunset. Whether you are driving down the road, relaxing on vacation, or quickly glancing out the window. The vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows streaming from the sun grab your attention. Some, get you looking for your camera or smartphone to capture the beauty.

Drier or less humid environments can produce brilliant sunrises and sunsets. Forrest Fisher photo

Some people find sunrises and sunsets beautiful and awe-inspiring. According to a published report from a pair of British researchers, people liked sunrises and sunsets more than storms, rainbows, clear blue skies, or night skies.

Some say they were awed by their beauty. Feelings of awe can improve mood, increase positive emotions, and decrease stress. With this feeling of awe, your problems can feel diminished. You don’t worry so much about them.

Sunsets and sunrises are free for all of us to enjoy every day, in every season, unless some clouds get in the way. Clouds can also help enhance sunrises and sunsets by further reflecting sunlight to the ground. That can happen with high-altitude clouds, which capture light from the sun before it can hit the atmosphere. Brilliant red, orange, and scarlet sunsets often happen with higher clouds instead of low-level clouds.

The best time to view a sunrise or sunset is mid-fall when sunrises and sunsets shine through trees covered with autumn leaves. Late in fall and in winter when air is cleaner is also good. Drier or less humid environments can produce brilliant sunrises and sunsets due to lower water vapor. Snow cover on the ground in winter makes the sunrise and sunset moments even more beautiful.

Sunrises and sunsets help you appreciate nature more. They slow down time and inspire the inner artist, writer, and poet in you. Every morning and evening there is always a sunset or sunrise outside waiting for you to enjoy its beauty.

Every day, without fail, the sun rises and the sun sets. You can practically set your watch to it. And yet, people miss at least one, and sometimes both, of these solar events. Sunrise because they stayed in bed until the last possible moment before they had to get up and head off to work or school.

Sunrises and sunsets help you appreciate nature more. They slow down time. Larry Whiteley photo

They might have missed a sunset because they live in a city. Buildings were in the way. Maybe they were too tired to go out. Maybe they see the clouds change color but miss the sun setting until it finally sinks below the horizon and the stars are out.

Taking the time to sit and watch the day begin and end can be difficult for some people. There may be many reasons. If we take time to watch the sky take on fiery reds and oranges as the sun sets, we may also see those evenings when muted pinks give way to twilight.

Stars start to twinkle until, surprisingly, it is night.

We can watch it happen every day.

God is awesome.

America’s Great Outdoors

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

America the Beautiful

By Larry Whiteley

The opening line of one of my favorite songs says, “God bless America, land that I love.” Another line is, “From the mountains to the prairies to the oceans white with foam, God bless America, my home sweet home.”

I love America’s great outdoors. I grew up in Missouri and still call it my home sweet home. It is a state blessed with natural beauty and abundant places to enjoy outdoor activities. I have also experienced the mountains, prairies, and oceans in many other places in America.

Make a fishing memory. Photo courtesy of Missouri Department of Conservation

I have hiked and fished the mountain lakes and streams of Colorado, Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, Oregon, and Hawaii. I have also walked and fished the beaches of Hawaii, Florida, California, Texas, Maine, and Alabama.

I have enjoyed freshwater lakes, rivers, and streams while fishing in my home state of Missouri. Also, Arkansas, Kansas, Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, Tennessee, Oklahoma, Illinois, North and South Dakota, New York, and Minnesota. I have made a lot of fishing trips to Wisconsin lakes to fish with our son and his family. I hope there will be more fishing trips there.

My wife and I have been to ten of America’s National Parks. Yellowstone, Glacier, Hawaii Volcanoes, Great Smoky Mountains, Carlsbad Caverns, Mammoth Cave, Rocky Mountain, Acadia, Grand Teton, and Everglades. They were all wonderful places to visit.

The history and majestic beauty of these places will always be in our storehouse of memories. We would love to see all the National Parks before the good Lord calls us home. We better get busy, though. There are 53 more for us to visit, and they cover 85 million acres.

Still on my bucket list is a trip to Alaska to fish, see Mt. McKinley, and enjoy the culture of that area. We might go to a few more fishing or hiking places, but Missouri is home and like Dorothy said in The Wizard of Oz, “There’s no place like home.”

Family camping is fun. Photo courtesy of Missouri Department of Conservation

Wherever you live, I hope some of your most pleasant memories come from the great outdoors. If you can, I urge you to fish, hunt, camp, hike, and explore America with your family. Create memories that will last a lifetime.

May a memorable hiking trip always linger in your mind. May you go on a fishing or hunting trip you will never forget. May you forever remember a once-in-a-lifetime camping adventure.

When people from other countries come to America, they marvel at the abundance of our fish and wildlife, our National Parks, and all the places we can go to enjoy the great outdoors. Most surprising to them is the availability of these resources to ordinary people. In other parts of the world, only the privileged can walk to a stream and catch a trout, hunt deer, or pitch a tent in front of a magnificent view.

Grand Teton National Park. Photo courtesy NPS/David Restivo

We sometimes take our beautiful lakes, streams, oceans, mountains, prairies, and forests for granted. Thankfully, our forefathers knew the value of the Purple Mountains Majesty and the fruited plains and made natural resources the focus of their songs and lives.

Here in Missouri, we sometimes need to remember that we would only have the outdoor opportunities we do have with the continued efforts of the Conservation Federation of Missouri, Missouri Department of Conservation, Missouri State Parks, Army Corps of Engineers, and others. We need to thank them and support them in any way we can.

Whatever state you live in, you need to do the same for your state’s conservation organizations: the US Forest Service, US Fish and Wildlife Service, Bureau of Land Management, and National Park Service. These organizations use your donations and tax dollars to benefit your outdoor experiences.

Enjoy a sunset on a lake. Photo courtesy of Missouri Department of Conservation

In America, we have our choice of lakes, rivers, and streams to catch fish, paddle or boat around, play in their water, or relax on their banks and listen to the sounds of nature. We have many forests and prairies to make hunting memories. Campgrounds are waiting for you to come to enjoy sitting around a campfire and listening to a crackling fire and night sounds. Lots of hiking places with magnificent scenic views await your footprints.

They are all places you can go for at least a few days and relax from a hectic work week, either alone or with others. They are places to think and pray. Places to get away from traffic and all the screens you look at all the time. They are places to renew your mind or recharge your body.

The cost is either free or minimal. The physical and mental benefits are many.

It is better than a $100-per-hour psychoanalysis for putting our lives into perspective. I encourage you to get outside and enjoy America’s Outdoors every season of the year.

Take a hike. Photo courtesy of Missouri Department of Conservation

One of my favorite outdoor quotes, among many, is one by Anne Frank: “The best remedy for those afraid, lonely, or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature, and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy amidst the simple beauty of nature.”

As bad as it may seem (at times), we must thank God we live in America. In America, among other freedoms, we have the freedom to become what we want to be, believe what we want, and worship as we please. I cannot imagine some cosmic explosion or evolution created America’s great outdoors. I believe God created America’s great outdoors for us all to enjoy and care for. I have the right in America to be bold in telling others what I believe. You have the right to do the same. It is up to each of us to accept or reject.

I love America’s outdoors, and I believe God inspired me to write this poem.

GOD’S MIGHTY HAND   

I have had people ask me just how I could believe in a God I do not see,

or his spoken words receive.

I smile and explain why I have no doubt.

It was God and his great power that brought the great outdoors about.

 

All I have to do is look around the times when I am there.

I see Him in the sunrise. That’s why I am so aware.

I see Him in summer rains that nourish the trees and wildflowers.

I see Him in a summer star-lit night. What a witness to his power.

 

I see Him in a campfire as the flames spark and dance.

I see Him as a deer sneaking through the woods and get a fleeting glance.

I see his beauty in the butterfly’s wings, the bronzed feathers of a turkey,

and the colors of the spring.

I see Him in the sparkling water as I make another cast.

I think of all He has done for me so many times.

I hear Him in the early light when the birds begin their songs.

I listen to Him when the thunder rolls and is so loud and strong.

 

I hear Him when the geese fly high in the sky.

I hear Him when an eagle cries. It is something you cannot buy.

I feel Him in a gentle breeze, and I say a prayer.

I know He is there when the sun shines warmly on my face.

 

His strength shows in the mountains and the ever-pounding seas.

The lightning bugs’ twinkling lights show his love for me.

If you will only stop, look, and listen when outdoors on the land.

You will see, hear, and feel that it was all created by God’s mighty hand.

Whether you are a believer or not, there is one more line from God Bless America that I want you to think about. “Stand beside her and guide her through the night with the light from above.”  We all need God’s light from above in our broken and divided America.

 

Too Much Screen Time!

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • Develop a plan to get yourself and the kids outdoors more often.
  • There are 958 million texts sent per hour: That’s 8.4 trillion a year!
  • Cyberbullying, stalking, and the spread of misinformation: all from uncontrolled social media. 
  • The mental health of kids and adults is suffering because of all the time spent on social media.
The beauty of nature is waiting for you outdoors. It’s all free.

By Larry Whiteley

If you grew up in the 1950s, 60s, or even early 70s, things were a whole lot different for kids. When you rode your bicycle, you wore no helmet. We even hitchhiked with strangers and did not worry about it. We rode in cars or trucks with no seat belts or airbags. There were no car seats when we were little. We stood up in the seat beside our parents. Riding in the bed of a pickup truck while it was moving was always fun.

Some drank water from a garden hose, not a plastic bottle. We shared a bottle of pop containing real sugar with friends. We ate lots of cakes, pies, white bread, and real butter. We weren’t overweight because we were always outside playing and doing things.

We would leave home in the morning and be gone all day. No one was able to reach us, and we were okay. As long as we were home for supper, our parents did not worry.

The feel of a fish on the end of a fishing line can change lives.

Girls made mud pies, jumped rope, played jacks or tiddlywinks, played with dolls, and played house. We boys dug up worms and went off fishing by ourselves or with buddies. Gigging frogs at night was a lot of fun, too. We took our single-shot .22 rifle and went off to the woods to hunt squirrels. There was no hunter education back then. We learned by doing. We became good hunters because we had to make every shot count. The frog legs, rabbits, squirrels, and fried fish helped feed our family sometimes.

Some of us spent hours building a go-cart out of scraps and then rode it down a hill only to remember we forgot the brakes. After running into trees and bushes a few times, we would solve our own problems. We fell out of trees, got cut, and broke bones and teeth without calling 911. There were no lawsuits from these accidents.

We spent hours building forts or playhouses. Some of us pretended we were fighting Indians or soldiers fighting a war. We also made up games with sticks and tennis balls, and even though we were told it would happen, no one’s eyes got poked out.

We rode our bikes or walked to a friend’s house, even if it was on the other side of town. We knocked on the door because there was no doorbell, or we just yelled for them. There were no security cameras.

We did not have video games, surround sound or streaming TV, and we did not have to pay to watch TV back then. There were also no smartphones, text messaging, personal computers, internet, or chat rooms. However, we had friends—real friends. We went outside often and found them.

Sitting around a campfire can recharge your soul.

Those generations of men and women were part of an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success, productivity and responsibility. We learned how to deal with it all. That was all before lawyers and the government regulated our lives, supposedly for our own good.

All of the above partly describes yesterday’s world, which many of us were privileged to have grown up in. Today’s world is a whole lot different, and not necessarily for the better.

Today, children and adolescents spend a lot of time watching screens, including smartphones, tablets, gaming consoles, TVs, and computers. On average, children ages 8-12 in the United States spend 4-6 hours a day watching or using screens. Teenagers spend up to 9 hours. Most adults spend almost 2½ hours a day, which adds up to almost a month every year. If social media is a big part of their job, it is much higher.

In the world, there are 958 million texts sent per hour, which equates to 8.4 trillion a year. There are 9.7 million Facebook messages sent every minute. TikTok posts 34 million messages a day. Some 93 million selfies are sent over social media each year, and the number is growing. Time spent on social media has become an addiction.

Get away from the screens and climb a mountain.

The mental health of kids and adults is suffering because of all the time spent on social media. Kids are growing up with more anxiety and less self-esteem because of harmful content. Cyberbullying and stalking are leading to kids and adults taking their own life. The spread of misinformation has destroyed the lives of some people.

There are good things about the technological world we live in today. I am using my computer to write this story. As I write this, I use it to look up statistics and other information. I use an app that checks my spelling, punctuation, and grammar. When this story is done, I will email it to my choice of websites, blogs, and online or print magazines and newspapers I write for. I do not use Facebook, TikTok, Instagram, or other social media. Every year, 4 out of 10 adults become victims of fraud attacks. I do not want to be one of them.

I get emails and texts on my smartphone. I can ask it a question, and it will take me to where I can find my answer. I make calls on it and answer calls if I know who is calling. If not, I do not answer because I do not trust it.

My smartphone also helps me take pictures I can use in my stories and family pictures. I look at pictures of kids and grandkids and think about all the memories of when they were little. So that is a good thing.

I will use my smartphone to get on YouTube if I want to watch a video on how to fix something. Or, if I want to watch what fellow Christian and country boy Buddy Brown has to say about what is happening in the world. Or, watch our church Sunday services when I cannot be there.

I do have a few apps I depend on. I use it most to check the weather app before going on hunting, fishing, or camping trips. Even if I need to mow or get work done around the house, I use it. I can see it day by day and hour by hour. Mostly, I scroll the radar across to see how the weather is going to be where I am going to be.

Sunrises and sunsets are better in person than looking at a screen.

I also use Missouri Department of Conservation apps for hunting tags, fishing permits, and seasons – and to find information about camping and hiking areas. My map apps help me get to those places and get back home again.

So, some technology is helpful. However, I do not consider most of the other technologies I have mentioned as personally good for me. I worry about what it is doing to you who are reading this, as well as to our kids.
Technology is making it more difficult for adults and kids to get away from their screens and outdoors into nature. Research has proven that outdoor time is essential for kid’s mental health, physical development, and overall well-being.
Spending time outdoors allows children to connect with nature and explore, which helps foster their imagination and creativity. It also promotes physical activity, helping kids develop their motor skills and maintain a healthy weight. In addition, it boosts their cardiovascular health and strengthens their immune system.

Too much time in front of screens can contribute to a lack of physical activity and an increased risk of obesity. It also hinders the development of motor skills. Children tap and scroll rather than being active outdoors. All that screen time also affects mental health because of less social interaction, poor sleep quality, and increased feelings of anxiety and depression.  Getting them and you out fishing, hunting, hiking, camping and other outdoor activities will help create a healthy balance between screen time and the great outdoors.

Make it a priority to spend time together as a family outdoors doing activities that everyone enjoys. Set an example for your children about the importance of getting outdoors for their well-being. Create limits on screen time. Make outdoor playtime exciting and engaging for your child. Prioritizing the outdoors promotes a healthy and balanced lifestyle for your family. You will also be benefiting yourself.

If you want to know more, all these statistics, facts, and other information are on your smartphone or computer. Just don’t take too much screen time doing it.

The soothing sounds of birds singing, flowing water, geese honking overhead, and wind blowing through the trees await you. The sights of majestic mountains, beautiful sunrises, sunsets, rainbows, butterflies, wildflowers, and eagles flying in the sky are all out there. The feel of a fish on the end of your line. The beauty of a night sky filled with millions of stars as you sit around a campfire watching the flames dance. All that and more is outdoors waiting for you, your kids, and grandkids.

Limited use of smartphones is acceptable on outdoor adventures, but only for taking nature pictures and recording the sounds of nature. They can enjoy these later and hopefully share them with friends and family to help get them away from screens and into the great outdoors.

As much as I would like to sometimes, I cannot go back to the simpler times of the yesterday I grew up in. I can limit my own screen time in the world of today. I can get outdoors to recharge my body and my soul. I hope you also learn to do that for your own sake and that of your family.

You will be amazed how your life, and your family’s, will change for the better when you reduce the time you spend in front of a screen and increase the time you spend outdoors in nature.

It’s up to us, parents and grandparents, to offer practical suggestions for encouraging our kids to spend more time outdoors.

The first line of defense (technology parenting) begins at home.

A Man Called FISH

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • As the sun reflects on the water, his wrinkled, arthritic hands struggle to tie on a crappie jig.
  • He smiles and thanks God for his last day on the water.
  • On Memorial Day, take time to thank God for those veterans who gave their lives so you can have the freedoms you have.

By Larry Whiteley

His name is Joe, but everyone who knows him calls him Fish. He is in his 90s and still goes crappie fishing as much as possible.

It is early on a Memorial Day morning. Not many others are out fishing yet. The sun rises once again over the forested hills surrounding the lake. Birds begin to sing. Crows are cawing. Deer are at the water’s edge for a drink. A turkey gobbles on a distant hill.

He still misses his wife and son, who are both in heaven now. He doesn’t see his kids and grandkids much; they are busy with their own lives. A younger crappie fishing buddy in his late 70s is with him. It is me. Most of the time, it is just Fish.

We sit in his dented, scratched, and patched 1960 aluminum boat. The 25-horsepower Evinrude outboard that he put on it all those years ago still runs and powers the boat. It has no LiveScope or any other modern technology. That boat is like family to him.

As the sun reflects on the water, his wrinkled, arthritic hands struggle to tie on a crappie jig. I offer to help. He says no. It takes him a little longer, but he gets it done. He still uses that same rod and reel his wife bought him long ago. He knows where the crappie will be. They have always been there. His first crappie of the day is clipped to his fish stringer and hung over the side of the boat. It is not long until he is putting another crappie on the stringer.

By 10 am, we both have our limit of crappie. Fish looks up and sees an eagle sitting on a limb watching him. He tells me it is there every time he goes fishing. He smiles and thanks God for his last day on the water. He also thanks me for coming with him. A tear runs down his cheek and mine. His doctor has told him his heart is getting weaker. He has, maybe, six more months to live.

He sits in his boat and tells me that if it is time to leave this world, he wishes it could be right there on the water rather than some hospital or nursing home. I assure him that I will be there to help him in any way I can.

He wanted to talk some more before we headed to the boat ramp. After all the years, he still wonders why he got to come back home from war when so many of his buddies did not. He has never talked much about what it was like fighting for all of us over there. No one knows what he saw.  The blood. The wounds. The bodies. They do not hear the bombs, the bullets, or the screaming. It is all hidden. Another tear rolls down his cheek. He wipes it away and thanks me for listening. Then Fish starts the old motor for the last time.

When we get to his home and pull into his driveway, Fish stops to look at Old Glory proudly flying on a pole in his front yard. It is there every day, not just on Memorial Day. He only takes it down when there is bad weather or replaces it with a new one.

We clean the fish and fry a few of them for lunch. He tells me that you cannot beat fresh, fried crappie. The rest will go in the freezer with all the other crappie he has caught. He will share them with me and other friends from our church.

On Memorial Day afternoon, Fish put on his Army Veteran cap, and I put on my Navy Veteran cap. We go to the graves of his wife and son. He sits and talks to them both for an hour or two. I bow my head and listen. He tells them he loves and misses them. He also tells them that he will be joining them soon. I get a lump in my throat and try not to let him see the tears in my eyes.

We spend the rest of the afternoon at the local military cemetery. We are there to honor those who served and those who gave their lives for our country. Standing in front of the graves of those he knew, he salutes each one. Then he says thank you and God bless you. He wipes another tear from his eye. He looked at me and said it was his last time doing that. I assured him I would continue his tradition until the Good Lord calls me home to join him up there.

He smiles because he knows I will take his place and do the things he does to honor our veterans on Memorial Day. He wonders how long it will take people to thank Veterans for serving when they see them wearing their Veterans Branch of Service cap. He asked me to speak at his funeral. I agreed to do that. He wonders if anyone will come to his grave but me on Memorial Day. I told him I would be there talking to him. I know he will be listening.

Thomas M. Smith once said, “This country has not seen and probably will never know the true sacrifice of our veterans. We all owe an unpayable debt to all our military. In the future, let us not send our servicemen and women off to war or conflict zones unless it is overwhelmingly justifiable and on moral high ground. The men and women of WWII were the Greatest Generation, Korea veterans the Forgotten Generation, Vietnam veterans the Hated Generation, Cold War veterans the Unsung Generation, and Iraqi Freedom and Afghanistan veterans the Underestimated Generation. Every generation has proved itself worthy of standing up to the precedent of the Greatest Generation. Since the American Revolution, American military men and women have been the best in the world. Let us all take the time to remember all veterans who served or are serving, peacetime or wartime, gone or still with us. May God Bless America and all veterans.”

I agree with every word Mr. Smith said.

What will you be doing on Memorial Weekend?

Will you be fishing, camping, playing in the water, or enjoying a backyard cookout? I ask you to please take time to honor the men and women who served or are serving. Take time to thank God for those who gave their lives so you can have the freedoms you have.

Pray for those who fought for us, got to come home, and still remember it all in the recesses of their minds—men like my fishing buddy, who just went on his last fishing trip. A man called Fish.

 

The POWER In Your Hands

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • There is so much more to old, wrinkled hands than stories can share.
  • Guiding, caring hands of inspiration and love are all around us if we look.
  • “Take it one day at a time and put it in God’s hands.”
My old wrinkled hands typing this story.

By Larry Whiteley

I recently read a story titled Grandpa’s Hands. It reminded me of my Grandpa and Grandma’s hands. They were old and wrinkled like the story I read. They used them to survive and raise their family on the farm where I was born and spent my early years. Their hands guided me into being the man I would become. I learned by watching them use their hands to go about their daily lives on that farm.

Grandma’s hands changed and washed my diapers. Her hands showed me how to tie my shoes or put on my boots when I was young. They combed my hair for a trip to town. They held my face when she told me that she loved me. They taught me how to fold my hands in prayer. Those same hands lay me down to sleep.

Her hands showed me how to feed the chickens, gather eggs for her from their nests, and butcher them to feed us. Those same hands taught me how to gather vegetables for her from the garden to can and cook. She also taught me how to use my hands to haul water from the spring for cooking, washing dishes, and washing hands.

Grandpa’s hands were sometimes sticky or wet, other times dried and raw, or bent and broken. This was due to all the work he had to do around the farm for us to survive. He took my hands in his and showed me how to milk the cows and feed the pigs. His hands spanked me when needed.

He used his hands to pass down his old fishing equipment and squirrel rifle to me. Then, those same hands taught me how to use them. Doing that formed the foundation for my love of the great outdoors and what I would do with my life.

Grandpa and Grandma have been gone for many years. I am now older than they were when they went home to heaven. I still remember their wrinkled hands.

I look down at my hands as I write this. They are now wrinkled like theirs were, but not from doing work like they endured. It is from years of trying to take care of my family and enjoying and writing about the great outdoors that God blessed us all with.

Two special boys and three hand-squeezes!

My hands helped teach my kids and grandkids to fish, hunt, and camp under the stars. They have reeled in and helped other kids reel in countless fish. I have placed my hands on many deer and turkeys as I thanked them for giving their life to feed my family. These hands have built many campfires and taken countless pictures of kids and grandkids with their first squirrel, deer, turkey, or fish.

These hands held a son close as he cried when his dog died. They hugged another son when he got his first deer as a grown man. My hands wiped away my tears when I was the Best Man at both of their weddings. They wiped away tears again when I found out our youngest son had cancer.

My hands held a granddaughter close when she was missing her mom and dad. Those hands wiped away her tears and told her that Grandma and I love her to God and back. When a grandson won a basketball game, baseball game, or fishing tournament, my hands gave him a high five and hugged him.

Maybe the most powerful thing I have ever done with my hands was when our youngest son and his wife adopted a little boy from Guatemala. A year later, they adopted his brother. I would tell them I loved them. I felt like I needed to do something different than say the words so they would better understand.

Our family enjoying a day on the river.

One day, I reached over, and their hands were in mine. I squeezed them three times. I told them it meant I love you without saying the words. That simple gesture became our special thing throughout their years of growing up. Every time we traveled to Wisconsin to visit them or they came to see us, they would squeeze my hand three times. I would squeeze their hand back three times. There was no need for words. They would smile, and so would I.

As they got older and we would text back and forth, we put three hand squeeze emojis at the end of our text. When they got to be teenagers, my son told me, “Do not expect the boys to do that hand-squeeze thing with you anymore.” They do not even give us hugs anymore.

Not long after he told me that, my wife and I drove to Kansas for our oldest grandson’s wedding. When the boys, excuse me, the teenagers saw us, they ran across the room and jumped on me. Then they reached down and grabbed my hand and squeezed it three times. They are now seventeen and eighteen. Sometimes, the three-hand squeeze emojis are still at the bottom of their text to me.

Our son keeps positive as he fights his battle.

Our son is now battling cancer. When I first heard about it, I called him. He said, Dad, we will take this one day at a time and put it in God’s hands. His positive attitude has helped us and those who know him. He has been an inspiration to everyone who has heard his story.

Many hands are folded in prayer for him. He is remaining positive and trusting God through it all. His battle with cancer continues. His hands still hold a fishing pole when he and his family go fishing together. His hands make things in his workshop, and he plays with the family dogs.

Sundays at our church, I stand before everyone and make announcements. I also give them what I call “Something to Think About.” It is usually a short story that I hope will touch the hearts and minds of people there and prepare them to hear the message our pastor is about to preach.

After I lead them in prayer, I look out at the crowd and say, whatever you are facing in your life, as our son says, take it one day at a time and put it in God’s hands. I then raise my right hand and squeeze it together three times. They know the story of our grandsons and the three-hand squeezes. They raise their hand and squeeze it three times back to me. Many have also told me they now do the three-hand squeezes with their family.

Our services are also on YouTube and Facebook. I am always amazed at the number of people from all over America who find a way to contact me and tell me the story of our son’s expression, take it one day at a time and put it in God’s hands; it has helped them. The story of our grandsons and the three hand squeezes has also touched and made a difference in the lives of others.

As life goes on and my body starts to wear down, my hands still hold me up and lay me down. My old wrinkled hands continue to fold in prayer. When my time comes, my hands are what God will take to lead me home. I like to think my grandmother will be there to put my face in her hands and tell me she loves me.

Until then, my old wrinkled hands continue to help me get out to enjoy nature. My old wrinkled hands help me write stories encouraging others to get out in God’s great outdoors. They will continue to hold my wife’s hand and squeeze it three times. I will continue to shake the hands of as many people as possible to welcome them to church until I am no longer there to do that. I hold the hands of some as I tell them about Jesus.

I hope our grandsons pass the tradition of three-hand squeezes on to their kids and grandkids. Hopefully, our sons and our other grandkids will one day have good memories of what their parents and grandparents did with their hands. I pray they will all continue to pass it on to future generations of our family.

Whatever challenges come your way, remember to Take it one day at a time and put it in God’s hands. May you also discover there is such power in your hands.

Newborn Wildlife, You Can Look but Don’t Touch

Posted on by Jason Houser
  • Be careful, view animals from a distance and do not touch

By Jason Houser

In the next several weeks, wildlife throughout the country will be bearing young. This is an awesome time of year and is a chance to see newborn elk calves, deer, pronghorn fawns, as well as many others. At the same time, I hope you know that when you come across young animals, please leave newborn wildlife alone and keep a distance.

It is so tempting when you see a young, fragile animal, to want to step in and help. It is the instinct of many people to feel compassion for the animal, but that animal was more than likely put there by its mother for safekeeping.

It is an amazing experience to get the chance to see the splendors of the outdoors, but please view animals from a distance and do not touch. Spring is an important time in a newborn’s life, and interference from humans can put their life at risk.

Most mammals hide their young and return periodically to nurse. People finding young animals with no adult around often assume the newborns have been abandoned, but this is rarely the case. The mother knows where her young are and will almost certainly return to care for them.

Young birds sometimes fall out of or leave their nests before they can fly. The parents continue to care for the young bird while it is on the ground, bringing food and trying to protect the youngster while it is in this vulnerable situation.

Getting too close to newborn wildlife can be very dangerous. The mother to the newborn animal will display very aggressive behavior when humans get close to their young. Leave the area immediately if you encounter aggressive wildlife with young. Yes, even whitetail doe’s that look so harmless can be aggressive. It is in their nature to protect their young, just like human parents will do anything to protect their children from harm.

The best option for people who come across newborn wildlife is to leave them alone. I had a case just last spring when a curious whitetail fawn that I did not know was in the area decided to go for a walk. The newborn was just born hours before that same day, we later learned through eyewitness accounts. The young deer left her hiding spot in the fencerow behind my home and entered my yard. As cute as the animal was, and even odd to see it in my yard, we left the baby to be. Watching it out the window of our home it was not long before its mother found it. Never assume the baby is an orphan unless you see the mother dead.

Most state and federal laws forbid possession of game and many nongame animals, so adopting newborn wildlife is illegal. Citations can be issued for possession of newborn wildlife with a possible penalty of up to a $1,000 fine.

Sharing the Light of Fireflies…for Everyone affected by COVID-19

Posted on by Radim Schreiber

Sharing the Light of Fireflies…for Everyone affected by COVID-19

I hope the fireflies can shine their light and bring us hope, love, and joy. Radim Schreiber, https://fireflyexperience.org (website)

I created this video to help people during these challenging times and I feel sad knowing that many people are suffering right now. So I hope the fireflies can shine their light and bring us hope, love, and joy.

Let’s help each other and our planet Earth.  I appreciate it if you share this video.

Love you all.

Radim Schreiber, https://fireflyexperience.org (website)

NEW Sunday Hunting LAW – Pennsylvania Celebrates More Hunting for Everyone

Posted on by Dave Barus

Sunday hunting means more time in the woods for everyone. NSSF Photo.

  • The addition of just these 3 days allows for working mothers and fathers to take their children to pass along shared hunting traditions.
  • Priceless
The New Bill would allow Sunday hunting one day during rifle deer season, one during statewide archery deer season and a third day to be selected by Pennsylvania’s Game Commission. NSSF Photo

The National Shooting Sports Foundation® (NSSF®) has made Sunday hunting a priority issue in Pennsylvania. NSSF led the Sunday Hunting Coalition, along with 15 other like-minded hunting and conservation groups and outdoor retail businesses. NSSF was successful in recent years in bringing Sunday hunting to North Carolina, Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia and South Carolina. Maine and Massachusetts still have outright Sunday hunting bans, and several states still restrict hunting, including allowing hunting only on private lands.

Sunday hunting means more time in the woods for everyone. NSSF Photo.

NSSF applauds the Pennsylvania legislature for passing legislation that will allow for Sunday hunting in the Keystone State for the first time in more than 100 years. The Pennsylvania state Senate approved S. 147 in a vote of 38-11, sending the bill to Gov. Tom Wolf, who has committed to signing the measure into law.

“Sunday hunting in Pennsylvania is a phenomenal victory for sportsmen and women,” said Lawrence G. Keane, NSSF Senior Vice President and General Counsel. “This simple act removes the barrier to many to enjoy and pass along to the next generation of conservationist-hunters the respect for sustainable wildlife and the hunting traditions for which Pennsylvania is proud. We thank the legislature for their foresight to work diligently to this outcome. This is a tectonic shift in policy and one that will benefit Pennsylvania’s conservation, growth in outdoor recreation and economic impact.”

The Pennsylvania legislation would allow Sunday hunting one day during rifle deer season, one during statewide archery deer season and a third day to be selected by Pennsylvania’s Game Commission. Pennsylvania sold 855,486 hunting licenses in 2018. The addition of just these three days allows for working mothers and fathers to take three more days in the woods and marshes with their children to pass along shared hunting traditions.

The economic benefit to removing all Sunday hunting barriers in the Keystone State would inject $764,291,489 in total economic contribution, including jobs, output, and wages created from hunter expenditures ranging from licenses, ammunition, and hunting supplies to food, fuel, and magazines.

About NSSF: The National Shooting Sports Foundation is the trade association for the firearms industry. Its mission is to promote, protect and preserve hunting and the shooting sports. Formed in 1961, NSSF has a membership of thousands of manufacturers, distributors, firearms retailers, shooting ranges, sportsmen’s organizations and publishers nationwide. For more information, log on to www.nssf.org.

The Quest for Morels…Mushroom Hunting!

Posted on by Jason Houser

Morels hide in plain site. Delcious when cooked, learn more about them.

Hunting mushrooms in the spring is an activity that can be enjoyed by the entire family.

By Jason Houser

Hunting mushrooms in the spring is an activity that can be enjoyed by the entire family. This falls into the same time frame as turkey hunting, camping, and other outdoor activities. Carrying a bag with you while in the woods and coming home with it full of edible mushrooms will quickly make you the most popular person amongst your family and friends.

When the mushrooms start popping up, a hunter will only have about 10 days of hunting before they are gone for another year. If you happen to catch the tail end of mushroom season, go ahead and harvest those mushrooms you find that have some dry spots on them. They can easily be cut off, saving the rest of the ‘shroom.

It was not all that long ago that mushroom hunters had to walk through the woods to see if mushrooms were up yet or not. I still do it that way, but the internet can help you out if you need it. Hunters post mushroom findings on one of the many mushroom hunting blogs. It is a good way to find out if mushrooms are up in your area. Just do not expect to be told what woods they are in. That is totally up to you to figure out.

Mushrooms can be difficult to find. They seem to pop out of the ground overnight. Actually, they do. If you do not find them one day, the next day they could be everywhere. The key is to keep looking. If you are new to the sport, expect to do a lot of walking to find them unless you are lucky enough to have someone show you. Normally, when you ask a mushroom hunter where to find mushrooms, the best answer you can expect to get is, “in the woods”. Once you find a patch of mushrooms remember where you found them and keep it a secret. You will likely have the same patch for many, many years.

For reasons known only to them, morels are very particular about where they grow. A good number are often found in a small patch with none in a large surrounding area that appears to be identical.

For reasons known only to them, morels are very particular about where they grow.

Always respect the property of others. Mushroom hunters are a serious bunch when it comes to their mushrooms. Just like any other hunting adventure always ask permission before entering another person’s property. It is also a good idea to share some of your harvest with the landowner if you have enough.

Public land offers possibilities for the mushroom hunter. The problem is that everybody has access to this ground. If you are not one of the first hunters of the season you might do a lot of walking for nothing.

Check with park officials before picking mushrooms. I know that state parks in some states do not allow mushroom hunting. Do not forget to be mindful of spring turkey hunters on state ground. At times, mushroom hunting might coincide with turkey season. During turkey season always wear bright colors on your exterior clothes so you are noticeable, but stay away from colors of red, white and blue (those are male turkey colors). They are too similar to the colors of a gobbler. You do not want to be mistaken for a longbeard.

An edible mushroom has a hollow stem and the bottom edge of the sponge-like cap is attached directly to the stem.

If you do not know what a morel looks like I would advise you to purchase a field guide. If you pick the wrong one and eat it, you could become very ill. Never eat any mushroom until you know exactly what it is.   A fellow mushroom hunter can be a good source to whether or not the mushrooms are edible. It is likely if your friend tries to talk you out of your mushrooms, they are the real thing.

An edible mushroom has a hollow stem and the bottom edge of the sponge-like cap is attached directly to the stem. Colors vary gray, yellow, tan or nearly black. Always cook morels before eating.

Just like any hunter, mushroom hunters need to be ethical in their hunting practices. Do not pull a mushroom up with its roots intact. Pinch the stem off one-half inch or more above the ground. This will help with re-growth the following year. Always use a mesh bag to carry your mushrooms in. I use an old onion bag. This allows the spores to fall to the ground throughout the woods. Again, this will help with growing mushrooms the following spring.

 

Captions.

  1. An edible mushroom has a hollow stem and the bottom edge of the sponge-like cap is attached directly to the stem.
  3. For reasons known only to them, morels are very particular about where they grow

Tips for Fishing Businesses and Guides…from the Recreational Fishing Alliance

Posted on by Dave Barus

Photo courtesy of Branson Vistors Bureau

  • Marinas and tackle shops can now apply for available loans  
  • See the useful list (link below) that allows a review of the COVID-19 mitigation rules by state.
  • CARES Act includes forgivable loans to pay for up to eight weeks of payroll, including benefits.
Marinas and marine-related recreational industries of America can apply for assistance right now. Forrest Fisher photo

Just about every business in the recreational fishing industry has been impacted by COVID-19 and actions taken by federal, state and local governments to slow the spread of the novel virus.

Small businesses including marinas and tackle shops can now apply for loans available through the Small Business Administration (SBA). These loans are part of the $2 trillion COVID-19 relief package, CARES ACT, passed by Congress and signed by President Trump last week.

The CARES Act includes upwards of $350 million of forgivable loans to pay for up to eight weeks of payroll costs, including benefits. The loans can also be used to pay mortgages, rent, and utilities. These loans become available at a time when many recreational fishing related businesses are experiencing massive declines in revenue and shortfalls with cash flow. These loans may prove to be extremely helpful for businesses and their employees to get through the next two months as policies remain in place to minimize the impact of the virus on our nation. Use the following link to learn more about these loans and to check your eligibility. https://www.sba.gov/page/coronavirus-covid-19-small-business-guidance-loan-resources

While there has been guidance and financial support provided at the federal level, most policies regarding social distancing, essential businesses and stay at home orders have been carried out at the state and local levels. Thus, policies that impact our ability to go recreational fishing and recreational fishing businesses vary from state to state. The National Marine Manufacturers Association (NMMA) has put together a useful list that allows you to review the COVID-19 mitigation rules by each state. Use the following link to review the various policies.

http://nmma.net/assets/cabinets/Cabinet488/NMMA_COVID%20State%20Resources%20One%20Pager_3.31.20.pdf

If you have specific questions regarding financial assistance programs or measures in your particular state don’t hesitate to contact us.

It is also important to remember that anglers have a responsibility to comply with social distancing rules even when outside fishing.

We can’t stress enough how important it is to follow these guidelines not only for the sake of public health but also so we are allowed to continue fishing during these trying times.

About the Recreational Fishing Alliance: The chartered mission of the RFA is to safeguard the rights of saltwater anglers, protect marine, boat and tackle industry jobs, and ensure the long-term sustainability of our Nation’s saltwater fisheries – that is our constitution, it is what we live by every single day on your behalf as a recreational fisherman – from a recreational perspective, it’s all about the fish, the fishermen and the fishing industry. Click here to learn more.

Sick Raccoon Near Your Home? What to Do.

Posted on by Mike Schoonveld
  • There has been a drastic decline in raccoon harvest by America’s hunters and trappers.
  • Lack of proper wildlife management can cause wild animal diseases and can hamper human safety.
  • Call the proper authority to handle ANY Sick Wild Animal you may encounter to do your part in this modern world of conservation.
Nose-to-nose, dog inside, raccoon outside, I snapped this cell phone photo before sweeping the raccoon off the deck.

By Mike Schoonveld

Our dog Molly was barking more than usual on the back deck a few nights ago while outside on her evening “duty-call.” Investigating, it appeared that she cornered a raccoon, perhaps attracted by the residual odors of grilled pork steaks I’d cooked on the deck earlier. My wife opened the slider door and yelled for Molly to get inside. Surprisingly, the dog came in, leaving the raccoon. I expected the raccoon to beat a hasty retreat. Instead, it continued to sniff around, apparently unconcerned, as if being accosted and nipped by a dog is usual.

I flipped on the interior lights so the raccoon could see through the glass patio doors where both Peggy and myself, as well as Molly, were watching. Instead of scurrying away, it came over and peeked through the glass, nose to nose with the dog. It appeared as though if I’d slid open the door, the raccoon would have just walked right on into the house.

I have no nearby neighbors, the closest a quarter mile away (and they don’t have a pet raccoon). Other neighbors live a mile away. I was sure it wasn’t a stray pet, and even a pet would run off if cornered by a strange dog.

There was something “off” about this raccoon – most likely, it was diseased. Luckily, in our area, though possible, raccoons are very infrequently infected with rabies. The last rabid raccoon in my state (Indiana) was back in 1979. Farther east in the US, raccoon rabies is much more common.

Raccoons are susceptible to many other diseases, though some are more common than others. Likely, our deck-invader had either distemper or parvovirus, the same bacteria or virus found in cats and dogs, but closely related raccoon-only versions of those diseases.

Balance Will Prevail

For the past several years, the prices paid for raccoon pelts in the fur market have been meager. Though natural fur is still a fashionable choice, shorter-haired fur, such as mink, is now the popular trend. International trade policies, sanctions, and still-struggling economies in some areas are adding further downward pressure to prices paid for raccoon pelts.

Fur is a global commodity. The biggest markets for raccoon furs in past decades were in Greece, until their economy collapsed; Russia, also with economic issues, as well as international trade sanctions; and China, until the Chinese government imposed high tariffs on imported pelts.

The result has been a drastic decline in the number of raccoons harvested by America’s hunters and trappers. Without any profit incentive, casual raccoon harvesters stopped hunting or trapping completely. Without any profit incentive, many recreational hunters and trappers drastically scaled back their effort expended on setting traps for raccoons or hunting them.

As with many species of wildlife, good stable populations require proper scientific management activity for good health. A regulated harvest is a part of that management. With no human intervention, nature takes over management responsibility, and nature’s way is decidedly inhumane. Overpopulation is handled by disease, exposure, or starvation – often in combination – and none of these deaths are particularly quick or painless.

In raccoons, parvo and distemper are the primary diseases that play a role in cutting populations back when human management efforts fail. For squirrels, it’s likely to be starvation or mange leading to exposure. In coyotes and foxes, it’s mange, heartworms, or other diseases. Nature has a plan for every species, whether you like the program or not. That’s why legal and regulated hunting and trapping are vital to maintaining healthy and abundant wildlife populations.

I live in the country and had the freedom, tools, and wherewithal to handle my back deck situation myself. I grabbed a broom and a .22 Smith and Wesson.

I basically “swept” the raccoon off the deck, down the steps, and into my yard. I thought, perhaps, a couple of pokes with the broom would send the animal scurrying. It didn’t scurry. Instead, it just sat there looking confused.

Many diseases can result when raccoons are not properly managed – in a populated town or in the wild country.

Happily, it showed no aggression towards me, just as it hadn’t when Molly was nipping and barking at it. Even after I swept it down two steps onto the sidewalk, it didn’t dart off into the darkness. It just sat there like a punch-drunk boxer until I pulled the trigger.

There are plenty of raccoons living in urban areas where it would be unwise or illegal to use a firearm to put down a sick animal. A person should not assume every sickly raccoon or any other wild animal will be docile. They could just as quickly have a nasty attitude towards dogs, brooms, or humans coming after them.

If you ever have this problem on your back porch and are unable or unwilling to handle it personally, the best bet is to call your “most local” law enforcement department. Whether it’s the city police or the county sheriff, they’ll know if there are animal control officers, licensed experts, or Conservation Officers available and get them headed your way.

Don’t ignore it. If the diseased animal does retreat on its own, in so doing, it (and you) may be helping spread the disease to other animals, even to pets they could encounter before they eventually die.

THE END

 

 

Innovative Mentorship Programs Pave Way for Millions of New Young Hunters

Posted on by Bill Brassard
  • Millions of New Hunters Are on the Way, say Hunting and Conservation Groups
  • In 2020, more than 460 million acres of state-owned lands are available to hunters and federal agencies are making it easier to access federal lands
  • Delta Waterfowl’s First Hunt Program has introduced more than 75,000 people to waterfowl hunting

By Bill Brassard

Delta’s First Hunt Program has introduced more than 75,000 people to waterfowl hunting. NSSF Photo

You’ve heard it said, “Nobody hunts anymore,” but that’s simply not true, said some of the nation’s top hunting and conservation groups during a press event at the SHOT Show® earlier this year.  They cited new, innovative programs that are attracting large numbers of new hunters, allowing people to pursue their desire to hunt for healthful food and make a connection to the outdoors.

The National Shooting Sports Foundation® (NSSF®), the trade association for the firearms industry, was joined by the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service, Delta Waterfowl and Savage Arms to discuss initiatives that look to create millions of new hunters in America.

“We’re seeing many positive signs that show there is hope for the future of hunting,” said Jim Curcuruto, NSSF’s Director of Research and Market Development. “New research and programs show that many people are motivated to give hunting a try. They tell us it’s an activity to be enjoyed with family and friends, that hunting provides healthful meat for their tables, and it allows them to put their busy lives on hold for a time to recharge and reconnect with the outdoors and nature.”

Curcuruto was joined by Tom Decker, USFWS Wildlife Biologist; Joel Brice, Delta Waterfowl’s Vice President of Waterfowl & Hunter Recruitment Programs; and Beth Shimanski, Savage Arms’ Director of Marketing, in delivering an upbeat message about hunting that pushes back on those that say hunting is not relevant in today’s world.

Curcuruto cited several initiatives, including NSSF’s +ONESM Movement mentoring program, which encourages experienced hunters to mentor youth and adults who have an interest in hunting. “Field-to-fork” and locavore programs are gaining interest from non-traditional audiences, and many states offer apprentice hunting licenses that allow newcomers to give hunting a try before taking a mandated hunter education course.

Also discussed was NSSF’s Hunting Heritage Trust Grant program that was introduced to support hunter-recruitment efforts. Five grants totaling $100,000 were awarded in 2019, and successful recruitment efforts were realized by grant recipients: Sportsmen’s Alliance, National Wild Turkey Federation, Pheasants Forever, Georgia Wildlife Federation and First Hunt Foundation. Information on applying for a grant in the 2020 grant cycle can be found here.

Brice said Delta Waterfowl is seeing its HunteR3 Initiative introduce hunting to new audiences. The program has three components: Delta’s First Hunt Program, which has introduced more than 75,000 people to waterfowl hunting; Delta’s University Hunting Program, which teaches future wildlife management professionals who don’t have hunting experience about the critical role hunting plays in supporting wildlife conservation; and Defend the Hunt, which both defends against threats to hunting opportunity and works to increase quality access for hunters throughout North America.

“The launch of our HunteR3 Initiative reaffirms Delta Waterfowl’s commitment to hunter recruitment, retention and reactivation as an important priority for us.,” said Brice. “Delta is working hard to ensure a strong future for hunting. We simply must recruit new waterfowl hunters to replace those who are hanging up their waders and calls.”

Decker said, “Research has shown that one of the primary barriers to hunting is not having access to land. Knowing this, USFWS, along with state wildlife agencies, have made a concerted effort to open access to high-quality habitat over the past decade. In 2020, more than 460 million acres of state-owned lands will be available to hunters, and federal agencies are making it easier to access federal lands as well. The agencies are using online mapping technology to provide better information on where to access land, and apps such as onX Hunt provide maps that make it easy to find available lands as well.”

Shimanski said, “Generation Grit was Savage’s way of honoring the mentors who continue to selflessly share their expertise with new hunters. Their efforts deserve to be recognized as they strive to help us all change the trend we’ve seen in hunting participation. The overwhelming response from mentors shows us that there is hope that we can continue the uptick we’ve seen in the number of new hunters, especially younger hunters and women. That is very important to this industry, as we all benefit when that happens.”
Curcuruto noted, “Much research has been conducted over the past decade, and we feel confident we have the formula for successful recruitment. State and federal wildlife agencies, along with many NGOs and conservation organizations, are doing terrific work recruiting new hunters, but the needle will move faster when more of the industry gets involved. If we want to continue to activate millions of new hunters, then any company selling to the hunting market should get involved with recruitment efforts. The good news is that the more manufacturers and retailers get involved in recruitment, the more new hunters we will have. It’s really that simple. Make sure 2020 is the year you join the +ONE Movement.”

Take a look at what happened when NSSF invited its staff to learn to hunt. We encourage you to conduct your own +ONE hunter recruitment efforts to help bring those millions of interested folks to the field.

To learn more about supporting this effort, visit NSSF’s +ONE Movement and R3 information pages or contact Jim Curcuruto at jcurcuruto@nssf.org.

About NSSF: The National Shooting Sports Foundation is the trade association for the firearms industry. Its mission is to promote, protect and preserve hunting and the shooting sports. Formed in 1961, NSSF has a membership of thousands of manufacturers, distributors, firearms retailers, shooting ranges, sportsmen’s organizations and publishers nationwide. For more information, log on to www.nssf.org.

Attack of the Space Invaders

Posted on by Rich Creason
  • Adaptation and Instinct takes over to Survive
  • Extraordinary occurrences begin, we learn from these
  • Life or death may remain in the balance 
The woods may offer the most interesting place for the ‘Vaders. Forrest Fisher Photo

By Rich Creason

The space invaders have arrived. A tiny particle of dust rides the wind up into the heavy clouds. Ominous clouds form and are made up of millions of water droplets so small that thousands could fit on the head of a pin. The temperature in this huge mass slowly drops.
Colder and colder.

The space dust attracts the water molecules to itself and starts to grow and freeze. Countless other dust and salt particles are doing the same combining. They begin to change, to mutate.

Depending on the temperature and humidity of the air, the invaders alter into one or more of seven basic different crystal shapes. Then, they start their assault, dropping toward unsuspecting earth. Bumping into other forms often breaks off pieces of crystal, forming a new center for another crystal form to begin growing.

On and on. More and more. Bigger and bigger.

Now, the entire invading force is racing downward, growing, spreading, and combining, in its mindless desire to cover everything in its path.

Depending on the temperature and humidity of the air, the invaders alter into one or more of seven basic different crystal shapes. Pixabay Photo

Too late to run. Too late to hide. It’s here! The snow has arrived!

Depending on the crystal type, the snow might stick, pack, build-up, drift, and be fluffy, dry, wet, or crusted. Usually, to most humans, it is just more snow to be shoveled and to drive on, except for a few weird ones like me. Snow means I get to go out and shovel my driveway before daylight. For some strange reason, I enjoy being outdoors in the dark and quiet, the only sound – the noise of my shovel sliding across the pavement. I like the cold and exercise.

When my drive is clean, and the sky begins to lighten, I walk the fencerows and wooded areas near my house looking for animal tracks. The whole outdoor scene is painted in the snow.

Deer tracks are numerous.

Deer tracking becomes easier for hunters in the snow. Forrest Fisher photo

Fox tracks used to be common but now have been replaced by coyote tracks.

Rabbit tracks also were frequently noted 15 years ago, but the coyotes have almost eliminated all of the nearby bunnies.

Mice and bird tracks follow the sheltered areas looking for food but staying close to safety.

The snow tells the whole story. Three or four times in my wanderings, I have seen an unusual story painted in the white fluff. I followed mice tracks along with the snow when they suddenly disappear. At the end of the trail was a circular depression in the snow. About 18 or 20 inches out from the depression on either side were skinny, parallel, line-like impressions in the white stuff. A mouse had been hopping along and suddenly was grabbed from above by an owl. The circular dent was where the owl body and feet hit the mouse. The lines on the side were the wingtips of the bird as he flapped to regain altitude with his meal. Without the snow, I would never get to see this picture.
I have never yet seen the story of a rabbit being chased by a fox or coyote, but I know that scene must be painted in the snow out there somewhere and I’m still looking.

When the snow accumulates to around six inches or more, I get to break out my snowshoes. Central Indiana seldom receives this much at one time, so I have to drive north to Michigan, Wisconsin, Minnesota, or even Canada to have fun with these. I have a pair of old wood and leather shoes, plus a pair of new aluminum ones which are easier to care for and with fasteners, which are simple to strap to my boots. With my homemade walking stick, I can easily keep my balance while walking the snow trails or even through rugged areas looking for stories of wildlife in the woods. Someone who might come along behind me, who had never seen snowshoe tracks, would think Bigfoot had arrived. The biggest problem with wearing snowshoes is that my legs become exhausted and sore until I get used to walking in them again.

Birds may require greater adaptation without help from people. Forrest Fisher photo

To plants and animals, the conditions that the snow creates literally can mean life or death for them. Many animals have evolved in extraordinary ways because of snow.

The snowshoe hare, Canadian lynx, and the ruffed grouse are among these and have developed specially adapted feet to support them as they move through the deep, white powder.

The long-tailed weasel changes its fur from brown to white in winter, to not only camouflage itself from enemies but to better hide from its prey.

Ptarmigan of the far North also change their drab summer brown to white feathers to camouflage themselves from predators.

For these and other animals that have adapted to snowy conditions, sometimes, it is neither particular help nor hindrance. Snow is sometimes an advantage to smaller creatures. Mice and other tiny mammals burrow into the white covering to avoid the extreme cold outside. They create tunnels to travel through, preventing exposure to predators.

If the snow is crusted, rabbits and other medium-size critters can walk on top of deep snow to reach food that was previously too high for them to harvest. But, the snow also hides seeds and berries from the birds that need that food type to survive. Larger animals such as fox, deer, and even the colossal moose can become weak, trying to travel through deep snow, breaking through the crust and plowing through drifts in search of their next meal. Members of the deer family will “yard up” underneath heavy tree cover where they remain until all food is gone and they are forced to move on.

Many plants benefit from a covering of snow. Snow buries smaller plants forming an insulating blanket over dormant plants and seeds, protecting them from cold or drying winds while hiding them from foraging animals. It doesn’t harm plants that have adapted, such as the birches and evergreens. These trees have smaller limbs with beautiful branches that bend with the weight of heavy snow, unlike many more giant trees that break under the load. Spruce needles catch the flakes creating a warm shelter with less snow underneath for small animals to move through with little effort.

Adaptations and instincts of different plants and animals determine how snow will affect them, whether it will help or hurt them, and sometimes even whether that particular animal or entire species will live or die.

Nature is not kind to those unable to cope.

The author may be reached at eyewrite4u@aol.com.

How to Save Thousands in Outdoor Gear at the Online Holiday Sportsman Show

Posted on by Nicole Stone

By Nicole Stone

With the holiday season in full swing, there is no better way to save money (and time) on your shopping this season than browsing the online Holiday Sportsman Show. This show is completely digital and can be accessed on your time in the comfort of your home.  For those already familiar with outdoor trade shows, it’s easy to understand the value that attending these types of exchanges can provide.  Now you have the opportunity to save thousands at a sportsman show while shopping directly from the comfort of your home.

In fact, shopping the Holiday Sportsman Show can help you:

  1. Save thousands of dollars in your favorite outdoor brands
  2. Shop from the comfort of your home
  3. Save on time and gas expenses
  4. Allow you to find hundreds of brands with the click of a mouse
  5. Shop during your own time; whether midday or midnight
  6. Support non-profit veteran, conservation, and youth groups

Best of all, the online Holiday Sportsman Show is open 24 hours a day, 57 days out of the year, at holiday time.  This virtual experience even gives you that fun, sportsman show atmosphere.  Finally, when shopping from home, you don’t have the lines, crowds, travel time, parking or gas expenses that you would by attending a traditional show. Instead, you can easily purchase gifts for your friends and family, and spend that time making memories with them instead.

Save Thousands on Your Favorite Outdoor Brands

Of course, the biggest benefit of the online Holiday Sportsman Show is saving money and time when shopping for outdoor gifts.  Each vendor offers individual savings shown at their storefront. Not only do you save by shopping the show, but you have access to even more savings when you purchase the Discount Coupon book (more details below).

A few examples of exceptional savings you receive include: 

  • Outdoor Edge (Knives and cutlery for outdoor use): 30% OFF and FREE SHIPPING
  • Dardevle (Famous for catching big fish): $10 off $50 or more purchase
  • JAKT Jewelry (Outdoor themed jewelry): 10% Off Any Order + FREE Shipping + FREE GIFT BOX.
  • Crock-O-Gator (Bass lures): $10 on any $50 or larger purchase.
  • Fletcher Lake Lodge (Outstanding fly-in Canadian fishing adventure): Party with 4 or more booking 3 days or longer receive one day free – $365 value per person
  • Ozark Ridge Calls (Turkey calls): $10 off $50 or more purchase
  • Midwest Marine: $1,000 off special boat packages by Dec. 31, 2019
  • Lure Lock (Innovative tackle storage): 30% off any Lure Lock purchase

These are just a few of the many outdoor deals available at the online Holiday Sportsman show.  By investing in the $15 coupon book, you not only have the opportunity to save thousands in outdoor purchases but are helping support some of your favorite non-profit groups as well.

The Holiday Sportsman Show Makes Finding Your Gift a Breeze

Long gone are the days you have to individually search each brand for their holiday specials.  Instead, the Holiday Sportsman Show makes it simple by having each brand, and their holiday specials, in one place.  All storefronts are neatly organized by category, making finding your product easy. As a consumer, you can even digitally browse the isles, much like you would in person.  With each vendor’s booth informatively displayed, you can quickly navigate to their storefront and browse their featured products.  Having all of these brands in one place makes online shopping simple, helping you save valuable time and money.

Shop the Sportsman Show At Your Own Pace

With the Holiday Sportsman show, you also get to shop the show at your time and your way.  Whether you need to shop at noon or at midnight, the show is open for your convenience. Not only do you save time by not having to invest in travel distance, but you also save money on gas.  Having all of these brands under one roof is the quickest and most efficient way to find that perfect outdoor gift.

Support Deserving Veteran, Conservation, and Youth Groups

Not only can you save thousands in outdoor discounts, but you can also support veteran, conservation, and youth groups by purchasing one of the Discount Coupon Books. Supporting deserving groups such as these is just one of the many reasons that the online holiday sportsman show is the perfect place for outdoor holiday shopping.

How the Online Holiday Sportsman Show Works

Attending the online Holiday Sportsman Show is a breeze.  Start by visiting https://holidaysportsmanshow.com. This will redirect you to our website homepage, also known as the Lobby. Then you will notice that the Lobby is broken down into three clickable sections. These are:

  • Locations: Where you can browse the different vendor’s display
  • Discount Coupons: As previously mentioned, this is where you can find coupons that will save you extra money at each vendor

My Shopping List: Where you can save your favorite products while you browse the show.

Start at The Lobby

Immediately upon entering holidaysportsmanshow.com, you will be redirected to the show’s virtual lobby. This will give you access to multiple features including the vendors, discounts, and even a My Favorites list where you can save your favorite items as you browse.  With these three simple tabs, navigating the show is easy and its virtual storefront makes online shopping a breeze. Below we breakdown each tab, and how you can easily navigate and utilize the show to discover the best outdoor deals this holiday season.

Use the Locations Tab

To access the show’s vendors, click on Locations located on the right-hand side of the lobby.  This will bring you to a category list, allowing you to choose between hunting, fishing, gifts and outdoor travel. From here, it’s up to you to select a category relative to your interest.  By browsing each of these locations, you can find products from the brands you love, and discover new brands that might have the perfect gift (or experience) you are looking for.  Each of these locations also acts as a virtual hall – making the browsing experience enjoyable. Ultimately, the Locations tab is easy to navigate, giving you convenient access to hundreds of outdoor brands.

Visit the Vendor Storefront

Once you’ve browsed the virtual halls, you can click on a brand to explore what they have to offer.  The brand’s packages and features are in an easy to view display – where you will find exactly the information you need to make an informed purchase.

Add Discount Coupons To Save More

At the bottom of the lobby, you will find the Discount Coupons tab. This is where you can unlock thousands of dollars in savings on your favorite outdoor gear while helping support non-profit youth, veterans, and outdoors groups.

Finally, purchasing this book is quick and secure. All you need to do is click on “PayPal Checkout” where PayPal will securely handle the transaction, encrypting your personal information and allowing you to purchase the book quickly and easily at the convenience of your home.  These coupons can be redeemed instantaneously at any of the individual vendor’s online stores.

My Shopping List

Finally, on the left-hand side of the lobby, there is a My Shopping List that can help you save your favorite products as you browse the show.  To access the My Shopping List you will need to enter your email. A link will then be sent, redirecting you back to the show – where you can quickly and easily save your favorite products as you browse.

Don’t wait, check it out, the Holiday Sportsman Show, click here.

 

Holiday Gift-Giving “From-the-Heart” Made Easy for Outdoor Folks

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • Outdoor Holiday Gifts for Friends and Family
  • One-stop shopping even when you are not sure what to buy
  • Buy a $15 coupon to support Youth and Military Veterans, earn up to $5,000 in discounts

By Forrest Fisher

Most outdoor folks have little time for shopping, even for their loved ones and best friends of the outdoors. Well now, the 2019 Online Holiday Sportsman Show can help you make a good choice in very little time with their interactive online shopping offers. Visit the outdoor show halls to find exceptional outdoor products and gifts at discount prices for everyone on your list. The Online Show allows shoppers to avoid crowds, traffic, and parking.  Stay at home and visit with hundreds of exhibitors to help make selecting the perfect outdoor gifts for outdoor enthusiasts easier than ever.

If you are looking for even deeper discounts on great products at the Holiday Sportsman Show, consider a $15 Fundraiser coupon package will open the door to more than $5,000 of exclusive savings for a wide range of gifts and products.  Gain instant cash discounts and 10 to 50 percent discounts on larger offerings, like a fishing trip or hunting trip vacation. The best part is that this coupon purchase will directly benefit our youth, conservation and U.S. veteran groups across the United States. For more information on the Fundraiser Coupon, visit www.holidaysportsmanshow.com and click on “Discount Coupons” at the bottom of the opening page. The fundraiser program helps consumers extend their holiday purchasing power while supporting Kids, Conservation and Veterans.

With the Holiday Sportsman Show, sit back, relax and have a stress-free holiday shopping experience. The show is open through Dec. 31.

The Online Holiday Sportsman Show is a property of Vexpo Marketing that also produces the award-winning www.SharetheOutdoors.com website. 

Worlds Colliding

Posted on by Brent Frazee
John Wilson and I went hunting blue-winged teal in west-central Missouri. Missouri Conservation Photo

By Brent Frazee

I’ll never forget the day when my worlds collided in an instant.

Sept. 11, 2001.

One moment, I was reveling in the peace and solitude of the outdoors, with not a care in the world. The next moment, I was jolted into the reality that no American ever thought possible – our country was under attack.

That was the day terrorists hijacked American airliners and carried out suicide missions, flying them into the World Trade Center twin towers in New York and the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. Thousands were killed that day, buildings laid in ruins, panic ensued…and a giant was awakened.

For me, that scene was unimaginable as I joined my neighbor, John Wilson, for a day of teal hunting at his lease in west-central Missouri. It was a brilliant morning, one of those days that made a hunter just happy to be alive.

Before the sun even made its arrival, lines of teal swept over the marsh in front of us, promising an exciting day of hunting.

I remember John’s black lab whimpering in anticipation and glancing at us as if to say, “Why aren’t you shooting?” He obviously didn’t know anything about shooting hours.

When the time finally arrived, many of those teal we had seen evaporated as they often do on these September mornings. It was almost as if the early birds had teased us, knowing that they were safe from our gunfire.

But as the darkness slowly gave way to daylight, there were still enough of the rapid blue-wings around to provide plenty of opportunities. It was one of those textbook days when everything went as planned.

John hit some difficult shots, his dog made some memorable retrieves, I got some good photos, and everything was right in the world.

After the teal stopped flying, we just sat in the duck boat for a few minutes, taking in the beauty of another duck season getting off to a great start.

But in an instant, that serenity was shattered. As we motored back to John’s boathouse, we saw John ‘s father-in-law nervously pacing on the levee, and we immediately know something was wrong.

Our minds raced. Had something happened to one of our family members? A car crash maybe? A fire?

When we drew close, John yelled out, “What’s wrong?”

And his father-in-law answered, “We’re under attack.”

Surely, we had heard wrong, we thought. Under attack? From what or who?

When we pulled the boat in, he proceeded to explain the terror everyone watched unfold on television that morning. He told of the jetliners flying into the New York buildings, of the devastation and the mass fatalities. And suddenly, the solitude of the outdoors and that waterfowl marsh disappeared.

At that moment, uncertainty filled the air. Were those attacks only the start? Were terrorists going to invade other major cities? Were our loved ones safe?

John and I scrambled to call home, and once we determined everyone was OK, we headed home, listening to radio reports as we went.

We passed convenience stores where long lines of vehicles waited at the gas pumps. And the closer we got to our Kansas City airport, we noticed that the sky was eerily silent – no planes coming or going.

Like everyone else, we were fearful of what this meant. And more than once, we talked about the contrast in our day’s activities.

We also talked about our patriotism and our grave concerns for our country. In the next few days, we would realize just how unifying that day would be for our country.

Luckily, our worst fears never materialized. But to this day, 9/11 will be remembered as a landmark moment for the USA.

When people ask the question, “Do you remember where you were on 9/11?” I think to myself, “I was a world away – in a waterfowl marsh.”

Catching Your First Bass…Unforgettable!

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • Unforgettable moments at the Black River near La Crosse, Wisconsin
  • Light line, swim jig with Strike King Shad
  • Bass Cat with Yamaha Vmax Engine

By Forrest Fisher

Melissa Boudoux with her first fish catch. Happiness is. 

There is something special about fishing for bass, especially when you’ve tried before, but you let your kids fish so they have that first cast and last cast while you manage all else, always hoping for them. Even at that, from shore, it’s often tough to catch a fish. Then one day, you’re hard at work and an invite comes along that is just perfect with the timing of your workday.

That’s how it was for Yamaha Communications and Dealer Education Manager, Melissa Boudoux, when Yamaha bass pro staff angler, Brett King, was in town to meet with the Association of Great Lakes Outdoor Writers (AGLOW) for their annual conference at the AmericInn Hotel. Brett has his Bass Cat Caracal and 225Hp Yamaha VMAX moored at the hotel dock on the Black River in La Crosse, Wisconsin, and he asked if anyone had time to help him test a few new bass lures. “I’ve never ever caught a bass,” said Melissa. “Let’s go, we’ll see what works today,” answered Brett.

A few minutes later, his Bass Cat was floating near a rock pile along the shoreline and Melissa was casting a 3-1/4 inch Strike King Rage Swim Tail on a 1/8 ounce lead head jig. A new experience, the 6-foot, 9-inch lightweight rod from J. T. Outdoors was a perfect match for the lure and in no time, Melissa says ”I was casting a very long way with very little effort. It was really fun!” As Brett placed his boat in a fishy-looking spot along the shoreline rocks, a hungry largemouth bass caught a glimpse of the swimbait passing by. That was it. WACK! FISH ON!

“It was so exciting! That bass fought so hard,” Melissa said. Brett adds, “Mellissa caught another bass a little while later too. It’s great to be in the boat when someone catches their first bass ever. This was a special day, she’s a veteran now!”

Thank you for the memories Mister Bass! 

Brett adds, “You know, I run my boat about 4,500 miles a year, none of it on land either. Sometimes in the roughest water and many times, in a debris field of blow-downs and backwaters. I have to feel comfortable with my engine and boat, I need to have confidence in them, and I have to know that they will provide the capability for me to run far and run back safely, and on time, when I fish big money tournaments. My Bass Cat and Yamaha 4-stroke engine do that. I love my rig and I trust it.”

Melissa adds, “I learned what to do after you catch a bass now too, so I can show my kids. It’s all so exciting! We released all the fish we caught. They’ll be there next time for somebody else to enjoy.”

Back at the outdoor media conference, word got out, and the next day and everyone cheered to Melissa’s first bass.

Catching that first bass, it’s magical.

Unforgettable moments.

 

 

Yamaha Pro, Brett King, earned the title 2018 Angler of the Year during Cabela’s® National Walleye Tour.
The 3-1/4 inch Strike King Rage Swim Tail on a 1/8 ounce lead head jig with the 6-foot, 9-inch lightweight rod from J. T. Outdoors was a perfect match to catch the first bass.

 

Let’s Bond with Nature this Saturday, Sep. 28 – Rick Clunn asks…”Join Me, Please.”

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • National Geographic’s current issue is about that fragile connection between all things
  • We all need nature to help us
  • Celebrate by locating an NHF Day event near where you live, there are many.

By Rick Clunn

The photos, this one and the one below, are of my Dad and Mom sharing the outdoors with me.

Saturday is National Hunting and Fishing Day, and I know that there is some special day to celebrate almost every day, but Hunting and Fishing are the last remaining vehicles to keep the masses connected to nature and like my Dad use to say, “Daphine (my Mom), if I don’t get in the woods or on the water this weekend, I am going to go crazy.”

What was a prophetic statement for him, it is equally true for society.

National Geographic’s current issue is about that fragile connection between all things. It stated that, “If you dig deep enough behind virtually every human conflict, you will find an erosion of the bond between humans and the natural world around them.” What I am most proud of with my relationship with Johnny Morris and Bass Pro Shops is their endless work trying to maintain a healthy connection between humans and the outdoors through their Conservation efforts.

So join me and Bass Pro shops in celebrating National Hunting and Fishing Day this Saturday, the 28th of September. But take it one more step! Take a friend, family member, someone on an adventure, go fishing or hunting. I have stated before, that I am hard-pressed to remember a single gift I received, but can easily recall many fishing, hunting, and camping adventures. The photos are of my Dad and Mom sharing the outdoors with me.

Quote from Edward Abbey: “It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it is still here. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends. Ramble out yonder and explore the forest, climb the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely mysterious and awesome space.”

Visit me to share your thoughts: https://www.facebook.com/rick.clunn.

Thanks.

 

Editor Note: This article and the pictures were provided by Rick Clunn via Facebook to share with all outdoor persons, their neighbors, and friends.

 

Fun Walleye Day for Military Veterans – Lake Erie Fishing!

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • 154 Military Veteran’s, more than 50 volunteers as charter guides/hosts
  • Clear weather, smooth sailing, hundreds of pounds of walleye fillets for veteran freezers
  • Stickbaits, spinner worm rig tactics were key to catching fish, details follow in story below

By Forrest Fisher

US Army Infantryman Al Sawyer (L) and Captain Jim Klein with a nice 7-pound walleye taken from eastern Lake Erie near Dunkirk, NY.

It was a tad before 6:00 a.m. when the morning sky-glow of bright yellow on the horizon of the cliffs to the east started to light up the day. It was a special day.

A warm forecast with windless air was perfect weather for Operation Boots – a sponsored fun-fishing activity for military veterans from WNY Heroes, Inc., a not-for-profit organization established in 2007 to provide veterans and their families with access to essential services, financial assistance and other needs that they might not be able to find any other way. And today, to provide some fishing fun on the water.

Military vet’s and volunteer fishing guide hosts began to gather at Chadwick Bay Marina in Dunkirk Harbor at this early hour. Their mission for the day? To fish for walleye on the Lake Erie waters of Chautauqua County, NY.  I could feel there was electricity in the air. Good energy!  To help control over-crowding at the event, the veterans were asked to pre-register and numbers were capped at 145. Yet, these numbers grew on site and who could say no to our dedicated military and wartime veterans?

Bantering, good-natured jokes, and warm-hearted conversations kept a mega-box of Tim Horton’s donuts busy. Dark roast java – better than the Uncle Sam version of early morning rocket fuel, complete with all the fixings, added to that feeling of “the guys” getting together for morning service work. This time, for the fun of it, the goal was to catch the biggest walleye. Fun battles. The morning was off to a great start.

Captain Jim Steel (www.InnovativeOutdoors.com) with Diane Rae behind him and volunteers from the WNY Heroes Inc. group at registration.

In their third year of helping to host this event, Charter Captain Jim Steel and Diane Rae from Innovative Outdoors (www.innovativeoutdoors.com, 716-481-5348) managed to satisfy the unthinkable task of finding more than 45 volunteer fishing boats to host the veterans, all of them providing fishing expertise. No small mission! In a very well-organized manner, veterans were assigned to their respective captains and a small armada to fishing boats headed to eastern basin Lake Erie to enjoy some fishing on the water. Even organizer, Captain Jim Steel, took time to host veterans aboard his 31-foot Tiara. The guy never stops!

It was a pleasure and an honor to serve as 1st mate aboard the brand new 24-foot fishing boat of Captain Jim Klein – Eye-Fish Charters. As we boarded the sleek-looking blue/white boat, the 225HP Yamaha 4-stroke outboard stood large and impressive on the stern. Captain Jim said, “This will get us to where the fish are in no time, then once we get there, we’ll switch to get better boat control for trolling with this smaller 9.9HP Yamaha motor. Both of them have autopilot for hands-free operation. He added that the Lowrance sonar would help us find the fish.” He also added that he had scouted the day before and knew where we should start.

US Army Infantryman, Chris Corcoran, with a double-header walleye catch!

It was a privilege to meet US Army Engineering Battalion veteran, Chris Corcoran; US Army Infantryman – Al Sawyer (79 years young), and Rick Shick – US Army Vietnam Veteran with the 1st Infantry Division where he and his buddies tried to stay alive doing battle about 80 miles east of Saigon.

The fishing was good and we shared line-stretching time for the next 4 hours. Chris Corcoran could be a regular 1st mate on any charter boat, he caught on to details that quick and had lots of energy in this, his first boat fish trip ever. Corcoran helped set lines, rig lines, he was quite amazing. By the end of our 4 hour fishing day, we caught 30 walleye, keeping 24 for the freezer. While we caught fish on various stickbaits too, the hot lure was the Eye-Fish spinner/worm rig in Mixed-Veggie color (https://www.eye-fish.com). We fished a Figure-8 trolling pattern just west of Dunkirk in 40 to 70 feet of water.

US Army Vietnam Veteran, Rick Flick with a nice ‘eye.

Al Sawyer caught our biggest fish at 7.23 pounds, while Rick and Chris took turns at the rods. We had doubles on three times! A testament to pre-scouting by Captain Jim on where to fish for this event.

Lynn Magistrale, Program Director for WNY Heroes, Inc., greets veterans as they arrive. That’s Al Sawyer on the right.

Hats off to the event organizer at WNY Heroes, Inc. Program Director, Lynn Magistrale, and WNY Heroes co-founder, Chris Kreiger – an Iraqi War veteran, and so many groups that donated, to help make this event unforgettable. In total, 154 military veterans participated.

Pre-scouting by Captain Jim Klein provided a good place to start the trolling pattern and resulted in a take-home catch of 24 tasty walleye for veteran freezers.

More than 45 volunteer fishing crews donated their time, gear and services to help host this extravaganza fishing event to say thanks to our military veterans for the freedoms that we enjoy in America every day.

Fishing guides and hosts provided all the gear, boats, and bait, for all the military veterans, all gratis, in a special salute and thank you for our freedom.

Before we hit port, Al Sawyer was beaming with a giant glowing grin and said, “This has been the most fun-fishing day of my life.” For Captain Jim and myself, that said it all! To fish with Captain Jim Klein, you don’t need to empty your pocketbook. Two people can fish a half-day charter on Lake Erie for walleye for $250. Imagine that! If you want to try it, give him a call at 716-597-9421. Don’t wait, the fishing is hot right now.

Even event-organizer, Captain Jim Steel, found time in his busy day to take a full complement of military veteran anglers out to catch a few fish.

Hats off to all of the volunteers and host fishing guide/hosts, many from the Eastern Lake Erie Charter Boat Association (ELECBA), and to the host kitchen facility, the Northern Chautauqua County Conservation Club with food preparations by Brunner’s Bayside Catering. Every veteran left the banquet that followed the fishing event with a brand new Zebco open-face fishing rod and reel in red/white/blue colors, an additional thank you for their military service in the past.

One last thing, let’s not forget prayer and a toast to all of those veterans that did not make it back home. I, for one, say thank you to the good Lord for these brave friends of our America.

To learn more about the WNY Heroes, Inc., check out www.wnyheroes.org.

At the end of the day, biologists from the New York State DEC joined forces at the dock to clean all the fish for the military veterans, adding data collection for this special event to historical fish tracking records. Military veterans are now part of NYS fisheries research too!

First Casts, Catchy for a Lifetime

Posted on by Bob Holzhei

Rattlesnake skin fishing rod handle by Master Rod Builder, Charter Captain Tom Marks.

  • Life is about sharing your passion, making new friends and finding that next…First Cast

By Bob Holzhei

My custom metallic red 7-foot long fishing rod with a rattlesnake skin handle, a “one of a kind” treasure for more than just the “first cast.” In case you’re wondering, my part of “the design by” was choosing the rod color. 

No matter how old you are, there is always a next first cast.

I slowly walked to the pond behind our rental home in Punta Gorda, FL to field test the custom fishing rod I asked a friend, Charter Captain Tom Marks, to make for me. He is an avid outdoor angler from Derby, NY who vacations to Florida in the winter, and he lived just a short morning walk from our location. Lucky me!

Master rod builder, Charter Captain Tom Marks, at home in his workshop.

Tom orders his rod building supplies from Mud Hole, a rod building and tackle crafting company from Oviedo, FL.

I tied on a Size 2/0 Mustad worm hook with a Mr. Twister Tri-Alive plastic nightcrawler, after Outdoor Writer Dave Barus, from East Aurora, NY showed me how to rig the hook to make the worm totally weedless. Weeds, lookout! Here I come!

The custom metallic red color 7-foot rod, complete with a rattlesnake skin handle, created a “one of a kind” treasure. It was my first cast with a new custom rod. I slowly opened the bail on the STX Abu Garcia Reel and gingerly arched the rod behind me. The bait was cast to the other side of the narrow pond. In that first cast, the line was suspended in mid-air for a moment and frozen in my memory. A motionless flying worm! I hoped a screaming osprey from the nearby swamp would stay where he was. He did.

I fished in my early years, once a year, but only if dad had a good year on the farm. We’d drive just over an hour to Tawas, MI to board a perch fishing boat – The Miss Charity Isle. A love affair with the natural world was conceived on our family farm that was nourished each year as crops sprouted from the ground.

As I got older, I’d ride my bicycle to nearby ditches and adjoining cuts located near Quanicassee, MI to fish for perch from the piers.

The custom rattlesnake rod handle is an amazing creation that reminds me to watch where I walk in some areas around the country.

 

 

 

As I got older and married, I took my three boys on a charter salmon fishing trip out of Ludington, MI to rediscover the love for once-a-year fishing moments from my childhood. We boated 12 nice-sized salmon. Needless to say, I was all-in. The following spring, I purchased a used 18-foot 11-inch Sportcraft boat. I was hooked, reeled-in and would enjoy a lifetime love affair with the natural world through fishing.

Today, the boat has been stored in a pole barn for the past three years and I suppose I should sell it. Anglers go through stages of fishing, first fishing from nearby ditches, then to cuts, piers and eventually a boat is purchased. I’ve transitioned back to where I began and this summer am again fishing from piers with the first cast of the day once again near my childhood home.

There is something special about pier fishing, simple as it is, for many of us, it brings back special memories and sometimes, a special catch for the family table.

As I returned 70 years later, I was surprised that the landscape had drastically changed. There were no perch or panfish in the area. The perch party boat had relocated to a southern port and was taking folks to fish across Lake Huron to Port Austin, at the tip of the Michigan Thumb. That’s a long way to travel across the lake for fish dinners at a restaurant. Perch could be ordered from various restaurants in the area and the menu clarified, “The perch come from Lake Erie.”

You can tell by my grin, I’m ready for my next first cast! I love my brand new custom-made fishing rod with the red-metallic color blank and rattlesnake skin handle. C’mon big fish, test me out!

My wife and I camped for a month at a city park on Lake Huron, noticing first that between 12 to 16 campsites were vacant. This popular park was always filled to capacity. After visiting with campers, I found that the park had raised camping rates from $90.00 a month to an outrageous $1,000.00 per month. That just seems like too much for a campsite park with only water, sewer, and electricity. No additional amenities were provided. Internet and cell phone service was only available occasionally (or non-existent). After the first week, I longed for the month to end and will return to the west side of Michigan where Lake Michigan awaits our return.

I suppose it’s good to camp (and fish) at new places from time to time, to determine where my wife and I feel most comfortable taking that next first cast.

I think I can recall every one of those first casts – there have been many.  The bottom line, I love to fish and revisit those old memories that helped make me who I am.

Matches, BB-Guns, Pocket Knives and Sharp Sticks…Once Upon a Time

Posted on by Dave Barus
Catching that first fish on a lure was a giant obstacle in the old days, but it was also a stepping stone to greater discoveries outdoors. Forrest Fisher Photo

By Forrest Fisher

When I was growing up, it was taken for granted that kids played outside.

We did all those things we wanted to do outside, not inside. Mom said, “Go outside!” So we did.  Every day.

We explored, we hiked the nearby fields and woods, we biked to nearby creeks to fish, we played baseball, we were bit by hornets, bees and wasps at one time or another, but overall, we had a lot of fun, all of it…outside.

After dark, we had a campfire, roasted marshmallows, potatoes and hot dogs on a fresh green tree branch whittled to a sharp point with a pocket knife. Each of us had one. It took quite a while for those raw potatoes to cook, but while waiting we would talk “about stuff” and we learned about all the things in life.

We had to keep feeding the fire which was fun all by itself. After a while, we discovered it was cleaner and faster to borrow some of mom’s aluminum foil (we dared not tell her) and wrap up the potatoes, then toss them on the coals of the fire. We were careful not to get burned, but we did a lot discovering through those young days as we grew up.

Our parents trusted us to carry a knife and matches because we were smart and responsible. They told us so. We grew up hearing that over and over. We grew up knowing that.

With the matches, after toasting our fingers at first try to light the match, we didn’t get burned much after that. Funny how you learn how to be safe.  I cannot recall ever having an accident with our pocket knives. Most of us had BB-guns too. My Daisy Red-Ryder is still in my closet nearly 70 years later and it still works, even after what has to be 100,000 rounds or more. That poor spring. That’s a lot of BB’s. All safely placed shots too, of course. No windows broken that I can remember, but my memory is not always perfect.

We grew up outside sharing so many things with our friends and neighbors. Everybody knew everybody. It was a fun time to be a kid. Looking back, it was great to grow up as a kid in the 50s and be trusted with so many things that we associate with as danger in the world of today.

As I walked a trout stream last weekend, our springtime foliage was in full blooming color. I reflected on being a kid and I started to think about our modern generation with much of their indoor recreation and the hand-held indoor universe. I took my 4-weight fly rod and sat down on the bank to just ponder. For some reason, I felt sad.

Today, if mom or dad or grandpa or an uncle or a close friend does not fish or hunt or camp or hike, then there is one entire sector of our generation that will never know about all those outdoor things, and all the fun and adventure to be had learning to be trusted with safe things that can be dangerous. Do parents today tell their kids that they are smart and responsible? Maybe, but they might only be texting it to them. It’s not the same.

Matches, pocket knives, sharp sticks, hot potatoes and bb guns allowed us to develop a foundation for how to be safe with each other and care for each other. We learned about proper ethics, the wisdom of lessons in a story tale told around a campfire. We learned to visualize, watching the flames and listening to the words of the tale. We were mesmerized in a world of special diversity as kids in that age of our time.

So today I worry a bit about our youngsters, their parents and the new generations coming along. It seems that no one has time to “just let the kids play outside” today. Moms and dads both work, that is the biggest difference, perhaps. Most moms in those old days were at home.

My mom rewarded me for going fishing and bringing back dinner. It didn’t help my allowance, I didn’t get one. We were not poor, but we survived by doing the simple things for fun, sharing, working hard and learning about helping the budget with fish and game, and the family garden.

My sister and I raised chickens and sold eggs to help out. More outdoor stuff. Those eggs were totally organic by today’s definitions and they were so good. We had 50 chickens at one point. The garden was a summer task that was hard work, but it was fun, too. We learned about insects, plants, natural forces and there was this kinship where we learned about all life in our world.

Let’s bring back the old days. Share life with others, make new friends in the outdoors, lead by example.

Outdoor Adventure and How-to Lessons for All in Ken Cook’s New Book

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • Quick-Read Outdoor Stories to Learn From: Fishing, Hunting, Shooting
  • Lessons from Experience: Recipes, Youth Mentoring, Women in the Outdoors
  • Bear, Deer, Rabbits, Squirrels, Birds, Fish, Wildlife, Photography

By Dave Barus

From the back cover, this picture bonds my mind to the outdoors that Ken Cook shares in his new book.

Old and young alike will love this manifest of outdoor spirit and culture shared by award-winning freelance outdoor writer, Ken Cook, in his new book. Not an ordinary outdoor book, Cook delivers lessons and aspirations in his “Return to Wild Country” with 65 compelling short stories across 284 pages. With photo’s and simple expression, easy to understand, Cook shares outdoor adventure with lessons and quips of women in the outdoors, mentoring kids, disabled youth, conservation, as well as interesting short features with a purpose on fishing, wild turkey, bobwhite quail, mourning doves, rabbits and squirrels. Even the harvest of a monster 673-pound Georgia black bear, a giant! Humble lessons for all to learn from.

Cook is a good story teller and in this book he shares stories about people sharing time in the outdoors with other people. Some of those people include Johnny Morris, Jack Wingate, Georgia naturalist Buddy Hopkins, former President Jimmy Carter, Guy Harvey and a moving testimony from young Eric Dinger of Powderhook entitled, “An Open Letter to the Anti-Hunter.” As a bonus, Cook includes 28 wild game recipes from Elaine Harvell that offer new tasty ideas for fish, duck, elk and dozens of many other outdoor delights.

You can get a copy of Ken’s new book in soft-cover from Amazon ($16.95) or in E-book form via Kindle ($3.95). It’s a great read and can make a great gift.

 

Trinity Oaks’ Thumbtack Ranch hosts Field-to-Table weekend for Boys

Posted on by Dave Barus

Hunting can teach critically important lessons about the value of all life.

  • Hunting can teach critically important lessons about the value of all life
  • Hunting can teach us that all life is important and sacred
  • Trinity Oaks’ Thumbtack Ranch is the nation’s first Purple Heart Ranch, providing lessons for so many
For five of the six boys, this camp was their first time ever receiving gun safety instruction, shooting sporting clays and hunting.

By Karen Lutto

Trinity Oaks teamed up with the Hill Country Chapter of the Quail Coalition earlier this year to offer six Austin, Texas-area boys the opportunity to truly learn where their food comes from. The boys, all from different backgrounds ranging from single mother to veteran families to underprivileged, experienced first-hand, the entire process of field-to-fork at Trinity Oaks Thumbtack Ranch in Batesville, Texas.
For five of the six boys, this camp was their first time ever receiving gun safety instruction, shooting sporting clays and hunting. After learning gun safety and practicing shooting, the six boys, with full instruction and guides, were taken on a bird hunt that included pheasant, chukar and wild bobwhite quail. The success in the field gave them a better understanding of where food comes, as after the harvest the boys also cleaned the birds, prepared them for cooking, helped to cook them and enjoyed them for dinner.
“Teaching our kids where food comes from is so important, but actually providing this type of hands-on education is nearly impossible for most parents, “ said Britt Longoria, Trinity Oaks’ Executive Director. “At Trinity Oaks, we offer a number of camps and services to Texas youth to help them get outdoors to enjoy, respect and have a better understanding of its importance and role in our everyday lives.
“Hunting can teach critically important lessons about the value of all life,” continued Longoria. “Today, many kids spend time with media that glamorize violence and cheapen the value of life. Hunting can teach us that all life is important and sacred. There is no greater way to learn about the dynamic systems of nature than through walking through the brush and examining things first hand. Learning to hunt responsibly and experiencing what it means to take an animal’s life can change a person for the better. Our ancestors had a deep appreciation for life, in part, because of their dependence on nature for sustenance. They understood the cost.
“Opportunities for us to volunteer and spend time with kids outdoors is invaluable. Take your kid out, take a friend’s, or volunteer and make a difference in the lives of others.”
Our country is urbanizing at such a rapid rate, there is far less awareness of how our food gets to the table. Programs like this one and the many others offered by Trinity Oaks make kids aware that the food they eat doesn’t begin at the grocery store.
Trinity Oaks’ Thumbtack Ranch is the nation’s first Purple Heart Ranch.  They are a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization founded on the premise that active participation in the outdoors is a powerful, healing, and fundamentally life-changing experience.  Trinity Oaks will be hosting its fourth annual Columbaire Pigeon Shoot at Thumbtack Ranch on March 22 in order to raise funds for future hunting and fishing opportunities for the underprivileged and combat veterans. All of Trinity Oaks’ programs are free-of-charge for the participants, and this event is just one of the fundraising events that the organization hosts throughout the year. For more information on the youth programs from Trinity Oaks, visit www.trinityoaks.org; and to register for the pigeon shoot, click here.
About Trinity Oaks: In 2007, San Antonio native Tom Snyder founded Trinity Oaks, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization founded on the premise that active participation in the outdoors is a powerful, healing, and fundamentally life-changing experience. The organization’s mission is to use hunting, fishing and outdoor activities to make a meaningful difference in the lives of underprivileged kids, terminally ill children and combat veterans. Each year, Trinity Oaks offers at least 50 events at no expense to those who can benefit from once-in-a-lifetime hunting or fishing experiences. For more information on Trinity Oaks, visit www.trinityoaks.org, or call 210-447-0351. For more information on Thumbtack Ranch, visit https://trinityoaks.org/thumbtack/.

 

Chasing your Dreams…in the 3-D Archery World

Posted on by David Gray

Joella Bates coaching former JoCamp students, Trevor Funcannon and Brooke Hultz.

  • First memory of shooting a bow was at 4-H Conservation Camp
  • After a home burglary, her dad bought Joella an Indian compound bow, history was in the making
  • Today, Joella Bates is an 11-time 3-D Archery World Champion and teaches young people archery skills

By David Gray

Joella Bates, 11-time 3-D Archery World Champion

If you follow competitive archery, Joella Bates is a name that stands out. Among Joella’s many accomplishments, she is an 11-time 3-D Archery World Champion. Even more impressive is that she won five of the championships using a Compound Bow, five with a Recurve Bow and one with a Long Bow.

Add to her individual accomplishments being a team member on Team USA’s 2017 World Archery 3-D championship win.

For all who meet Joella, it only takes 30 seconds to become infected with her enthusiasm and energy for helping youngsters learn archery.

As a kid she grew up in the outdoors. Her Dad was an outdoor guy. Joella says, “I was my Dad’s shadow.” When he went to the woods or the lake he took me and introduced me to wonderful world of hunting, fishing and shooting.

The shooting however was not with a bow. It was always with a rifle. Using what Dad had taught her and her considerable competitive spirit, she developed an exceptional skill with the rifle. In college at the University of Tennessee, she soon found herself on the college rifle team.

Still, archery was not part of her life.   Her first memory of shooting a bow was at a 4-H Conservation Camp event when she was in the ninth grade. At the camp, the 4-H kids could shoot at the rifle range and the instructor let them compete for snacks. When Joella kept winning all the snacks the instructor finally said, “Why don’t you go try archery.” That’s when the magic started to happen.

Her first memory shooting a bow was not good. She only remembers the string hitting her arm and it hurt. Determined to figure out how to shoot a bow and wanting to win a trip to a 4-H Round Up event, Joella asked her Dad to help. He brought out his old compound for practice and she only remembers losing seven of his arrows.

While in college the family firearms where lost in a home burglary. Her guns were gone, but Dad knew she wanted to figure out how to shoot a bow, so he bought Joella a used Indian compound.

The bow did not fit, but she practiced. The draw length was too long and Joella remembers, “I ended up black, blue and purple all over.”

In 1989 after college, working with Tennessee Wildlife Research, a coworker offered, “I have a friend who owns a bow shop and he can set up one to fit you. If you learn to shoot it I will take you bowhunting.” At 28 years of age, Joella got her first bow properly set up with instruction on how to shoot it.

Her skills learned from rifle hunting helped. After much practice, she was invited to go bowhunting.

Joella says, “That was another giant learning experience. I had a world record case of Buck Fever and missed my first five deer. Later that first season, I did harvest my first bowhunting deer.”

In 2001, Joella began traveling, hunting, fishing, writing and speaking about the sports. “I was not getting rich, but I was paying the bills and making many friends.”

She received invitations to hunt around the world.

Joella is the first lady hunter to take the “Big 5 of Africa” bowhunting and the first lady to arrow the “Turkey Grand Slam.”

A love for teaching archery and especially helping young people to get started the right way, lead to the start of JoCamps. This is an archery instruction school that travels to the community the students live in which saves travel time and expenses for the students and parents.

Joella with former JoCamp students Trevor Funcannon and Brooke Hultz

JoCamps include the National Training System used to prepare archers for the Olympics and International competition.

At the recent MONASP (Missouri National Archery in Schools Championship), Joella…while tutoring young shooters, reunited with Brooke Hultz and Trevor Funcannon, former JoCamp participants.

Trevor said, “Joella actually teaches you how to be a better shot, her methods are very effective.”

Brooke said, “The JoCamp method is different and really works.”

Joella Bates can shoot, but to share and teach archery is what she loves the most.

If you have a youngster or archery team interested in a JoCamps archery
training event contact  joella@jocamps.com.

 

Opening Day Traditions, Memories for Life

Posted on by Brent Frazee
  • Fishing, hunting, warm, cold – you gotta go!
  • Keeping young, no matter your age
  • Remembering my dad
In keeping with tradition, a crowd of fishermen showed up March 1 at Bennett Spring State Park for opening day of the Missouri trout season. Photo by Brent Frazee

By Brent Frazee

I have always been fascinated by the tradition involved in fishing and hunting.

Opening day of deer season.   Spending time with a lifelong friend or relative in a fishing boat.  Days in the field with an old bird dog   And the fishermen’s unofficial first day of spring, the Missouri trout opener.

They all elicit images of the romance in our outdoor sports that the anti’s could never understand.  It’s reminiscing about days with a friend or relative who is no longer with us, of an unforgettable day of fishing, of a big buck that showed up out of nowhere, of a day when the weather presented a formidable challenge.

We take memories of those days to our old age, thumbing through faded pictures of long-ago fishing trips or reminiscing about special moments long after we are no longer able to participate.

I’ll never forget the last time I talked to my dad before he passed away. “Do you remember Arnie?” he said in almost a whisper.

Arnie was our guide the first time my dad took me to Canada. I was just a little guy and I was thrilled that I would get to meet a real Indian.

Arnie was colorful, to say the least. He drove us to the boat ramp in a beat-up truck with a door that wouldn’t shut, a motor that coughed and sputtered, and seats that were so worn that the foam was showing.

Arnie guided us to the trip of a lifetime, showing us where to catch giant northern pike. My dad and I reminisced about those days often, especially when there was a lull in our conversation.

We didn’t talk about the little-league games my dad coached, the big-city vacations we took, the trips to our family farm or the many major-league games we went to.

We talked about special times together in a fishing boat.

I see how many other people bond the same way.  And I smile.

Photo by Brent Frazee

Tradition is a big part of who we are as fishermen and hunters.

In my world, nowhere is that more evident than at Bennett Spring State Park in south-central Missouri.

The park celebrated its 95th trout opener on March 1, most of them as a destination managed by the Missouri Department of Natural Resources and stocked by the Department of Conservation.

Some fishermen will try to tell you that they have been to every one of them – but then, you know how fishermen like to stretch the truth.

Still, there are many who have been attending the opener for many years and wouldn’t miss one, no matter what.

Over the years, I have interviewed many of those proud old-timers and have taken delight in their stories.

Chet Snyder of Grandview, Mo., comes to mind. He is 85 and still makes sure he gets back to Bennett on opening day every year.

He has been fishing the opener for 63 years and he won’t let anything hold him back.

“We’ve driven on icy roads, through snow storms, in real cold weather, but we’ve always gotten there,” he said. “It’ something I won’t miss. It’s tradition.”

When I talked to him several years ago, his dedication to follow tradition was especially impressive. He suffered a seizure less than week before the opener and he was released from the hospital only days earlier.

He asked for the doctor’s OK to travel to Bennett for the opener, and he got it. His son did the driving and he was back on the water.

Snyder returned for this year’s opener with his sons Chuck and Curtis and his grandson Cody. He cast for a short time, but a problem with his balance kept him from going at it as hard as he once did. Still, he was there, and that’s all that mattered in his mind.

But Snyder certainly isn’t in a class by himself at Bennett. Walk into the park store and you’ll hear others talking about how long they have been coming to Bennett for the trout opener.

I suppose I have a streak of my own. I have been attending the Missouri trout opener since 1980 when I started working at The Kansas City Star—most of them at Bennett, but a few at Roaring River. Now that I’m retired, I still go back, using the trip as an excuse to do an article for one of the media outlets for which I freelance.

I enjoy talking to old friends, making new ones, and reminiscing about past openers.

It’s tradition, and I’m not ready to give that up.

‘WomenHuntFishNY’ Photo Contest Winners from NYSDEC

Posted on by NYS Dept. of Env. Conservation
  • Six Winners Selected out of 2,000 Entries

In celebration of International Women’s Day (March 8) and Women’s History Month, New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) Commissioner Basil Seggos announced the winners of the 2018 “WomenHuntFishNY” statewide photo contest.

“In DEC’s first-ever statewide photo contest to celebrate women who hunt and fish in New York, we received an overwhelmingly positive response from women across the state. New York’s sportswomen were eager to share their photos and stories from their outdoor adventures,” said Commissioner Seggos. “We thank everyone who participated in the contest for their amazing submissions and appreciate their support for DEC’s ongoing efforts to encourage more New Yorkers to get outside and enjoy hunting and outdoor recreation.”

After the contest was announced late last year, DEC received more than 2,000 photo entries, accompanied by hundreds of inspiring stories. The winning hunting images were divided into six categories:

Winning entries will be featured in this year’s New York State Hunting and Trapping Regulations Guide and future issues of the Conservationist magazine, in social media posts, on the DEC website, and other outreach efforts. While this fall’s contest focused on women hunters, DEC also received hundreds of fishing photos that will automatically be entered in a fishing photo contest that will be announced later this spring.

According to the most recent National Survey of Fishing, Hunting and

The Outdoor Guys – Radio for Outdoor Sportsman

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

 

By Forrest Fisher
The way of the future includes modern sportsmen on the move. As we travel from place to place to fish, hunt, shoot, hike or camp, it can pay dividends to hear fresh advice from the experience of seasoned outdoors folks through podcasts (that include re-playable radio shows). It’s one easy way to keep up, no matter where we are.

Outdoor Guys Radio is a weekly outdoor show, dedicated to hunting, fishing, shooting, and the great outdoors. Airing on ESPN 99.3 FM and 1510 AM in Kansas City since 2011, listeners can catch the show every Friday afternoon from 3-4:00 Central on ESPN Kansas City or on Saturday morning from 9-10:00 Central on Sports Byline USA.

Avid outdoorsman and outdoors writer, Ken Taylor, has been a host of Outdoor Guys Radio since the show began in 2011. Ken has been hunting and fishing since he was old enough to pick up a BB gun, and is passing that passion on to his two sons. Both boys love to hunt and shoot, and are also avid fisherman. Ken credits his dad with instilling in him a love for hunting, fishing, and all things outdoors. Thanks mostly to his understanding wife, Ken spends over 90 days a year hunting and fishing. Ken enjoys hunting big game, upland birds and waterfowl in both Kansas and Missouri. The rest of his year is spent fishing on their home lake, shooting at Powder Creek Gun Club and training Ruby and Belle, the family’s Vizslas. Adds Ken, “Ruby and Belle are our most reliable hunting partners!”

The show features the best of regional and national experts, providing listeners with informative news, tips, destinations, and even a wild game recipe or two. In addition to the on-air shows, segments are also available through our podcast page and on iTunes. Each week, Outdoor Guys Radio hosts the best of local, regional and national experts in hunting, fishing, shooting and the Great Outdoors.

A few of “The Guys” who regularly contribute to the show include such national celebrities as Brandon Butler, Executive Director of the Conservation Federation of Missouri: Brandon is an avid outdoorsman, prolific writer, and a great defender of the rights of sportsmen; Jared Wiklund, Public Relations Specialist for Pheasants Forever and Quail Forever: Jared provides listeners great insight into habitat and upland birds; Dr. Grant Woods, GrowingDeer.TV: Dr. Woods is a renowned biologist, game management expert, and the host of Growing Deer TV; Jim Zaleski, Outdoors Writer: “Jimmy Z” is an accomplished outdoors writer, fisherman, and radio host. He brings a wealth of fishing and hunting knowledge to the show. In addition, Zaleski is the Director of Tourism for Labette County, KS; and many other notable outdoor guys.

Sports Byline USA: Outdoor Guys Radio is broadcast every Saturday morning on Sports Byline USA! Sports Byline USA airs on over 200 markets across the United States. Click here for a listing of stations that carry Outdoor Guys Radio.

Outdoor Guys Radio on SB USA is also heard around the globe on over 500 stations in 168 countries on American Forces Radio.

Outdoors Apocalypse, “New Kids” can provide New Leadership

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

Help raise funds to help the Conservation Alliance protect wild lands and waters across North America for future generations.

  • New Ecology, New Nature, New Adventure
  • New Gear, New Kids…Old Fun in a New Way

By Forrest Fisher

Teddy Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota can offer a new view to age-old rocks and mountain formations – a great place to explore.

Summer is warmer and starts earlier, winter is warmer and shorter. We have a longer rainy season each year. Modern generations are convinced that nature is changing. 

New forms of fun have evolved to welcome millions of millennials to the outdoors where they escape to thrills with a welcome rush of fun, sometimes for just a moment or two.

The “new kids” bungee cord, hike, run, breathe fresh air, hear the surf crashing, ski downhill on snow-covered mountains, skin dive to photo-shoot fish on coral reefs – any of these a short flight from home. A usual manner of departure for their modern millennial day. They enjoy the wind moving through their hair, are protected from UV rays with modern sunscreen and meet accepted new standards of our apparent new age.

Outdoor participation is in a state of change in our modern outdoors, but it is about the millennial modern perspective, insulated within a well-planned, undeterred call for momentary adrenaline through nature. Then it’s back to work. Some millennials work 20 hour days, mostly on a keyboard.

As we approach Thanksgiving, is it time to rethink the feast of nature?

There are times when the truth of the woods, nature itself, is under question by the city folks, many millennials themselves. The new nature includes getting lost and resting easy to find yourself, sometimes in solitude, sometimes with a friend.

A roll-up air mattress that fits into the backpack with comfort to be found in a pop-up camp tent to enjoy a great night of sleep under the stars.

Pinnacle Dualist Complete is a great pocket-sized camp set for hiking and biking.

In your backpack, you remove your Pinnacle Dualist, it is the ultimate mess kit with stove and tiny isobutane fuel supply – total weight: 27 ounces. The kit integrates everything for hot meals and warm drinks in an impossibly small footprint.

No plastics allowed, no cigarettes, just filtered stream water, sustainable supplies, all with efforts to provide for a better future in nature and time away.

A clean future.

A green future.

A sustainable future.

Maybe these “new kids” reached their campsite on a rock-proof mountain bike. New products today can provide increased range for adventure.

Silence is the special gift of such new adventure, interrupted only by the sound of a lazy campfire, glimmering fireflies from a nearby field and woods. There is expectation for surprise looking skyward for a meteor to zoom across the night darkness.

That’s a moment to make a timely wish for peace in the world.

Nature by itself is a natural celebrity. A place where your internal clock is secure and a new secret to sync your body system is discovered. The “new kids” live true with such adventure.

Microlite Stainless Vacuum bottle is efficient, lightweight and affordable.

There is time to write a handwritten letter to someone you know that needs a letter.  A sip of purified mountain water from your Microlite water bottle that keeps liquids hot or cold for all day. Delicious.  

Nature is truly grand.

Morning light provides a new connection to the day ahead. It’s hard to miss the “new day” vindication of mixed color, hues of yellow, orange and red. It’s a beautiful planet you think to yourself.  You sense a new and sudden perfection with nature at this moment. You welcome your relaxed state of mind.

Friendship, wildlife, nature, conservation – all linked at this moment. 

Your mind wanders a bit, then you think back to mankind centuries old to realize the bonus, this is the same morning sunlight that people 5,000 years ago watched come over the horizon. So times have not changed, you option in thought. You do know though, that this overnight experience has provided an uplift for you.

Nature is truly grand.

Human nature is a bit like Mother Nature with the seasons of spring, summer, winter and fall, you imagine. The seasons restore each other. Maybe Mother Nature has not changed all that much then or, you option, maybe it has. There is time to ponder this question.

Can there be a new algorithm to slow down this latest “new kids” generation that seeks to find instant solutions through the assortment of so many keyboard tools.

Jeans, T-shirt, sneakers, ball cap and sunglasses is all you really need to “fit in.” Soong as you have a battery cord and charger.

So we ask, “Is this the new nature or the old nature? “The “new kids” nature is…you accept, extraordinary.

Some parts of our planet can provide an age-old view into our changing nature.

Sunset arrives with an orange glow.

The clouds rest.

The wind is silent now too.

An owl hoots in a nearby tree.

It’s time for millennials to join up with nature to find adventure in the outdoors.  It’s time for millennials to understand why hunting and fishing are important to our future and our ecology.

Us older folks could use the new leadership, don’t be afraid to ask us for a match.

Hunting Works for America Expands Again, Thanks to NSSF

Posted on by Bill Brassard
  • Stakeholders educate public and elected officials about importance of hunting
  • Hunter taxes, fees, surcharges fund conservation efforts to benefit wildlife
  • Hunting Works For America program represents more than 1,500 businesses, organizations and associations across 19 states

By Bill Brassard

NEWTOWN, Conn. — The National Shooting Sports Foundation® (NSSF®), the trade association for the firearms industry, is proud to announce that the Hunting Works For America footprint has grown to include Maryland. Hunting Works For Maryland joins 18 other states, including most recently Ohio, as the 19th state to be included in the award-winning Hunting Works For America program.

Hunting Works For America, through its state chapters, is an initiative that seeks to bring a broad range of stakeholders together in order to educate the public and elected officials about the importance of hunting. Shooting sports organizations, conservation groups, businesses, and other non-traditional hunting entities such as chambers of commerce, convention and visitors bureaus and other trade associations, have come together to form Hunting Works For Maryland and share their interest in the economic impact of hunting.

The newly formed Hunting Works For Maryland partnership has more than 65 partner organizations and will be adding dozens more in the weeks and months to come.

“A strong appreciation for the outdoors and outdoor sports is evident in the money spent by the 88,000 people who hunt in Maryland every year,” said Chris Dolnack, NSSF Senior Vice President and Chief Marketing Officer for NSSF. “Hunters contribute $32 million in state and local taxes each year, thanks to their considerable spending on their favorite pastime. The average hunter in Maryland spends $3,000 a year, which translates into $128 million in salaries and wages and an economic ripple effect of $401 million.”

Taxes, fees and surcharges that hunters pay when they purchase licenses, tags and equipment fund Maryland’s conservation efforts, which benefit game and non-game species, as well as anyone who enjoys the outdoors.

Hunting Works For Maryland launched today with a press conference across the street from the State House in the Annapolis Visitors Center. It is co-chaired by Deb Carter, Executive Director of the Maryland Association of Campgrounds; Ruth Toomey, Executive Director of the Maryland Tourism Coalition; Senator John Astle representing District 30; and Delores Jones state, General Manager of the Holiday Inn Express and Suites in Chestertown.

Hunting Works For America launched in 2010 with just three states: Arizona, Minnesota and North Dakota. Since then the program has grown, adding chapters in Iowa, Missouri, Pennsylvania, Colorado, Washington, Oregon, Alabama, South Dakota, New York, Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Utah. All totaled, the Hunting Works For America program now represents more than 1,500 businesses, organizations and associations representing tens of thousands of stakeholders.

Becoming a member of Hunting Works for Maryland is absolutely free of charge. Visit www.HuntingWorksforMD.com to learn more about becoming a partner and the program, including leadership, members, social media opportunities and local hunting seasons.

About NSSF: The National Shooting Sports Foundation is the trade association for the firearms industry. Its mission is to promote, protect and preserve hunting and the shooting sports. Formed in 1961, NSSF has a membership of more than 12,000 manufacturers, distributors, firearms retailers, shooting ranges, sportsmen’s organizations and publishers. For more information, log on to www.nssf.org.

Trinity Oaks – Making a Life-Changing Difference, Says “Hunter Outdoor Communications”

Posted on by Karen Lutto

Trinity Oaks provides hunting, fishing and outdoor activities to make a meaningful difference in the lives of underprivileged kids, terminally ill children and combat veterans.

  • Provides Outdoor Adventure and Fun for Underprivileged Kids, Terminally ill Children, Combat Veterans
  • Offers Once-in-a-Lifetime Hunting and Fishing Experiences to Purple Heart Recipients
  • Honors the Caretakers of our Wounded Vets and Mentorship Fallen First Responders

SAN ANTONIO, TX – Sept. 24, 2018: Hunter Outdoor Communications’ public relations program for Trinity Oaks will encompass the development and implementation of an aggressive communications plan focusing on the organization’s traditional outdoor markets as well as new markets that will address the importance of hunting in conservation.

Trinity Oaks, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit organization founded on the premise that active participation in the outdoors is a powerful, healing, and fundamentally life-changing experience, announced today that they have partnered with Hunter Outdoor Communications to handle its public and media relations. This appointment is effective immediately.

“We are very excited to be working with Trinity Oaks, as we truly support and believe in the work of the organization to help people in need.” said Mike Nischalke, vice-president and owner, Hunter Outdoor Communications. “Trinity Oaks works with families of children with terminal illnesses and disabilities, disadvantaged children from the inner cities and surrounding communities. As a Marine Corps veteran, I was immediately drawn to this organization by the help and respect Trinity Oaks provides to combat veterans suffering from both emotional and physical wounds. We look forward to spreading the word about the work of the Trinity Oaks team.”

In 2007, San Antonio native Tom Snyder founded Trinity Oaks. The organization’s mission is to use hunting, fishing and outdoor activities to make a meaningful difference in the lives of underprivileged kids, terminally ill children and combat veterans. Each year, Trinity Oaks offers at least 50 events at no expense to those who can benefit from once-in-a-lifetime hunting or fishing experiences.

Every year, the organization hosts as many as 1,000 children living in difficult circumstances and teaches them how to respect and properly handle firearms. It also hosts fishing trips, quail and big-game hunts for these kids. Trinity Oaks facilitates Dream Trips hunting excursions for terminally ill kids who are passionate about hunting.

Dream Trips has become a hallmark of Trinity Oaks, and the organization honors Purple Heart recipients and combat veterans with hunting or fishing bucket-list trips to create lasting memories while providing emotional healing. Trinity Oaks also honors the caretakers of our wounded vets with an annual Holiday UnSung Heroes Retreat at its Guadalupe River Camp near San Antonio.

The StarKids Program forges lifelong mentorship relationships for children of fallen first responders through learning hunting and shooting skills with a peer-volunteer from the parent’s police force or squadron.

Trinity Oaks operates with a 98-percent volunteer base and two paid employees—a part-time executive director and a full-time meat processor—and all of its events, hunts and fishing trips are made possible by donations. Trinity Oaks’ Meat Mission Program is able to process more than 100,000 pounds of game meat per year. That equates to 9,000 pounds of processed meat per month, or more importantly, 1,150 wholesome, high-protein meals per day for soup kitchens, homeless shelters, group homes, and orphanages in Texas and northern Mexico.

All of these Trinity Oaks’ programs are organized from San Antonio and at sites across Texas, as well as through national and international partnerships with dozens of volunteers, nonprofits, and other agencies. For more information on Trinity Oaks, visit www.trinityoaks.org, or call 830-928-3085.

Rainbow Trout, Howling Coyotes, Bugling Elk and Fishing with Kids…a Labor of Educational Love

Posted on by Buddy Seiner
  • Fishing, Life, Discovery
  • Freshwater Streams, Insects, Dry Flies, Rainbow Trout
  • Autumn, Badlands, Sunrise, Adventure

By Buddy Seiner
The smell of a South Dakota autumn day can bring a rush of reactions within one’s brain. The strongest among them for me is the desire to fish, fueled mostly by memories of epic angling adventures of old.

Autumn fishing days just always seem to produce the perfect combination of scenery, serenity and success on the water. What better time, then, to take children fishing? The fish are hungry, food is prevalent and beautiful weather will have their sense of adventure tingling.

With National Public Lands Day gracing the United States on September 22, it made for a perfect excuse to take my children outside for a South Dakota adventure. And so, that is how we found ourselves camping in the back of my pickup truck at Iron Creek Lake, south of Spearfish, South Dakota, the evening prior to Public Lands Day.

Elk hunters and a few cabin owners were our only company this evening. The pack of coyotes howling over the ridge brought a backbone chill that made the kids shiver with excitement. A full moon shone through the tinted windows of my topper as we relaxed carefree under fleece blankets and zero degree sleeping bags. Sunrise for these kids would not need to hurry.

The next morning reminded me of how lucky I am. Despite temperatures in the low 40’s and cover jostling matches replacing precious sleep time, these kids were up before the sun and ready for our next adventure. No complaining, no whining, no challenges. Just positivity and a youthful exuberance that acted as a catalyst for my adventure anticipation. First on the schedule for our day celebrating public lands…fishing in the Black Hills National Forest.

The number one rule for fishing with kids is to give them plenty of opportunities to catch. Bluegills and perch will often play the role of prey in this situation, but on this day, hungry rainbow trout took the lead. Iron Creek Lake is full of them. Early morning ripples indicated a school of fish feeding along a shallow weedline.

As a fly angler, I’m always searching for feeding activity and possible food sources, and I’m constantly equipped with a box of Black Hill’s bugs, hand-tied to my liking, begging for the approval of any trout that will pay attention.

The aforementioned list of autumn attributes returns to relevancy when I write that the fish were hungry and the food was abundant. Small baitfish were stealthy and swimming about, pale morning duns (mayflies) were emerging from the weeds below the surface, and dragonflies were skimming the water in constant danger of becoming the next trout meal.
When fish are actively feeding on many different food sources, using a fly that will initiate an instinctive reaction can sometimes be the best bet. A small, unweighted, thin mint fly attached three or four feet below a clear bobber provides just enough weight to reach the threshold of hungry fish and it did not take long for them to accept our offering.

“FISH ON!” I exclaimed, hoping my kids would come running.

The oldest was first to respond, eagerly snatching the rod and taking over the tug-of-war battle.

A big rainbow trout emerged from the mirror-like lake and dove for the weedline. Before long, the shimmering scales of the rainbow were reflecting the early morning sun’s rays like a disco ball at a dance. Its colors brought audible sounds of surprise and wonder from the children. “It’s important to always keep a fish in the water,” I explained. If you are going to take a photo, do so very quickly. Four seconds out of the net, and back into the water went the hungry trout. The clear water provided the perfect window to watch as it swam back toward the feeding frenzy of fellow fish.

Boy, did we hook into fish that morning! Not all of them made it to net, however. Trout have an uncanny ability to throw a hook, unlike any other species, but that didn’t matter to any of us.

The reverberating echoes of “FISH ON!” hanging over the northern Black Hills that morning was enough to give any angling-minded individual a nice shot of dopamine (or a nagging rush of envy). By 9:30 we packed up and headed to Spearfish, South Dakota.
There is a lot that should and could be said about Spearfish, but I’ll just share that I plan to live there someday. That should suffice to indicate my level of appreciation for this town and the amenities that exist, and it is not only because of the great fishing. We began the morning at the Termesphere Gallery where the kids ooed and awed over spectacular art and a unique gallery setting. It is a must stop while in Spearfish.

The other never-miss location in Spearfish is the D.C. Booth Historic National Fish Hatchery and Archives. I did a story about it for the Fish Stories Archive, of course, the fish are always a highlight, but we also took time to tour the grounds, making a special stop in Ruby’s Garden. It’s a wonderful place to enjoy the quiet.

After lunch in the park, it was time to celebrate National Public Lands Day with a visit to Badlands National Park. This 244,000 acre park protects one of the most rugged, harsh, and spectacular environments on the planet. Bison, bighorn sheep and prairie dog sightings are all but guaranteed in this landscape, with many other species making possible cameos. We pulled into Sage Creek Campground and were immediately greeted by two large bull bison grazing the hills near the entrance. For it being midday, the campground was already occupied with many tents and vehicles.

The yellow jackets and tiny biting insects were also abundant, and the “sweltering” heat was an unwelcome surprise for late September. We quickly set up camp before seeking refuge from the bugs and heat in nearby Wall Drug. Wall Drug donuts are a thing of legend, so we purchased a few for the next morning’s breakfast before driving the Badlands Loop at sunset. The views were nothing short of spectacular. The kids were having a hard time retaining their appreciation for landscapes, but we were fortunate to find a long-eared owl in the town of Interior. It allowed us close enough to say hi, but did not want to be photographed. Darkness soon consumed the Badlands and we joined a caravan of other campers headed for Sage Creek.

The drive back to Pierre was more quiet than normal. I assume the 6-year-old and 2-year-old were just a bit worn from the short adventure. The 10-year-old finally piped up after 30 minutes of driving to prove that her silence was spent in careful reflection.

“Dad…thanks for taking us camping,” she said with a grin. “We are lucky kids.”

Click on the “Fish Stories” image to visit that website.

My tiny heart skipped a beat and likely grew a few sizes in that moment. Yet another reminder of how lucky I am to have kids that appreciate the outdoors and the experiences they have in them. Admittedly, that gratitude was not at all expected on my part, but it was exactly what I needed after a great weekend enjoying our public lands.

Buddy Seiner – President, Fishing Buddy Studios; Founder of Fish Stories Archive (http://fishstories.org/) and podcast Listen to some awesome Fish Stories.

5 Good THINGS to KNOW ABOUT HUNTING

Posted on by stoadmin
  • Environmental Preservation
  • Support Regulations
  • Save Wildlife Populations
  • Provides Nutritional Alternatives
  • Vital Part of Wildlife Conservation
A bonded connection between hunting and conservation can start at an early age when family hunts share the sacred benefits of the outdoors, wildlife, adventure and personal responsibility.  Forrest Fisher Photo

Contributed by NSSF

Recognizing that the connection between hunting and conservation can seem counterintuitive, the National Shooting and Sports Foundation (NSSF) has developed a series of infographics to help the public better understand hunting and hunters.

In truth, the values of today’s socially and environmentally conscious society are closely related to that of hunters’.

Hunting aids environmental preservation

Hunter-supported taxes on equipment and license fees have afforded wildlife agencies the money to be able to acquire and maintain land for the conservation of game and non-game species. This land also provides space for outdoor recreational activities such as hunting, fishing, hiking, kayaking, camping and more.

Hunters support regulations

Hunters demonstrate their respect for regulated hunting by taking hunter safety education courses, following the rules of ethical hunting, and adhering to regulations, seasons and permit procedures that differ from state to state and species to species in order to help strategically manage wildlife.

Hunters helped save wildlife populations

Hunters helped create a sustainable conservation model allowing Americans to participate in regulated hunting that supports the conservation of wildlife. This model, which was so successful it has been adopted around the world, has helped restore species such as Wild Turkeys, Rocky Mountain Elk and others, some that were on the brink of vanishing forever.

Hunting provides nutritional alternatives

In the old days, people regularly hunted for their food. Today, as many strive to know more about where their food comes from and how it will affect their health, they are turning back to wild game, the most organic and sustainable meat source in the world, to provide the best nutrients for their body and the most natural life for the animal.

Hunting is a vital part of wildlife conservation

Hunting is a highly regulated tool that plays an important role in wildlife management. Biologist study wildlife populations, habitats and food, then work with legislators to establish regulations on hunting that will keep wildlife populations in balance, as well as promote growth and breeding, as habitat allows.

Hunting can be difficult to understand, but NSSF encourages you to look at these infographics to get a better grasp of its benefits. Do you care about the environment, land preservation, animal conservation and personal nutrition? Then you can support hunting.

4-H Shooting Sports in Missouri

Posted on by David Gray

4H Shooting Sports help our youth develop LIFE SKILLS, SELF-WORTH and CONSERVATION ETHICS. Click the picture for the story.

  • Youth Learn Marksmanship
  • Youth Learn the Safe and Responsible Use of Firearms
  • Youth Learn the Principles of Hunting and Archery
  • Youth Develop LIFE SKILLS, SELF-WORTH and CONSERVATION ETHICS

By David Gray

Rachel Augustine, Director of the Development for the Missouri 4-H Foundation, and Jim Sappington, Missouri Coordinator for 4-H Shooting Sports, discuss support to enable 4-H and 4-H shooting sports for Missouri youth.

The University of Missouri, located in the city of Columbia, is like many State Universities as it offers a large, sprawling campus complex.  I have been on campus many times over the years, but had never noticed the 4-H extension building and offices.  It is not small, in fact, it is a large building with a large parking area, but it is surrounded by trees and greenery that almost places the unique site in a world of its own.

The site is so fitting, as so many 4-H youth development programs involve outdoor activities and animals for the youth of our nation in the setting of countryside areas.

Early in June, 2018, I travelled to the University of Missouri to meet with Rachel Augustine, the Director of the Missouri 4-H Foundation, and Jim Sappington, Missouri’s statewide coordinator for 4-H Shooting Sports.  We discussed ways to extend support to enable 4-H and 4-H shooting sports to deliver their service of great value to youth, our community and country.  4-H says, “We believe in the power of young people. We see that every child has valuable strengths and real influence to improve the world around us.”

“Share the Outdoors” says, “We agree!” Rachel Augustine is a 4th generation Arizona native.  She began working for the Missouri 4-H Foundation when she and her husband relocated to Missouri in 2013. When asked what she likes most about her job, Rachel responded, “Helping kids prepare to succeed by learning life skills, responsibility and ethics.” Rachel added, “I also enjoy meeting so many different people as I travel all over Missouri.”

Thanks to a recent challenge gift from Larry and Brenda Potterfield, the Missouri 4-H Foundation is partnering with the Midway USA Foundation to establish and begin building a Missouri 4-H Shooting Sports Endowment Fund. The Fund will support the long-term growth of 4-H youth shooting programs in Missouri. While the new endowment fund is exciting work, Rachel and her team also raise funds to support more than 70 statewide 4-H programs and initiatives for the University of Missouri Extension 4-H Center for Youth Development.

Jim Sappington has been state-wide coordinator for 4H Missouri Shooting Sports activities for about one year, but he brings so much experience, as he came to the position after 27 years as a 4-H volunteer.  Jim says ”The job is a tremendous amount of work, but so much work is beside the point when you watch a youngster succeed at something they thought they could never do.”

To that, we at “Share the Outdoors” say, “Thank you Rachel and Jim!” Now, “How can we help?”

If you would like to make a donation to the Missouri 4-H Foundation contact Rachel Augustine at AugustineRe@missouri.edu or by telephone, 573-884-7641. 

A Cane Pole, a Catfish and Great Grandma

Posted on by stoadmin

canepolecatfish

Bobbers, Patience and that Twinkle in Grandma’s Eye

By Kenneth L. Kieser

My great grandmother grew up in a simpler time when fishing meant feeding your family.  She was old, bent over and gray by the time I came along in the early 1950’s, but she always had a smile and a twinkle in her eyes for me.

Our farm pond was easy to access in my great grandfather’s Model-A Ford, the only car they ever owned. We bounced over the pasture while grandpa tried to steer around sticks or other obstacles, creating quite a bumpy ride for me in the dusty, musty-smelling, black leather backseat.

Cane poles and my great grandfather’s old steel rod that had a J.C. Higgins red baitcast reel were tucked neatly to one side with his Sears tackle box that was about the size of a loaf of bread.  I could hear hooks, bobbers and other fishing stuff rattling as the car bounced.  Grandma occasionally glanced back at me to make sure I was surviving the sometimes wild ride.  She always returned my big grin.

The pond was surrounded by pasture so we drove up to the shoreline. The air smelled sweet on the spring mornings when we went fishing, unless you walked by a cow pie or two.  But that was just part of country life and we paid little attention, unless a misstep landed in the squishy mess.

Grandpa pulled out all the equipment and carried it to an appropriate spot on the pond dam.  He always gave us the best fishing spot.  He made sure grandma had a can of worms, then smiled at me and walked to the opposite end of the pond.

Then grandpa found a quiet spot to fish in peaceful solitude.  I learned later that he had bouts with depression earlier in life.  His quiet fishing moments became therapy, a term that did not exist for Missouri farm people in those days.  They just solved problems their own way.

Grandma loved to let me hook an earth worm.  She would smile at my struggles with the squirmy worm and always took over before frustration set in.  Soon the worm was firmly threaded on a genuine Mustad hook, the kind sold in round metal boxes in those days.  I always turned the red and white bobber over and over in my hand as she patiently waited for me to hand it over.

The bobber was added about a foot up the nylon line.  She stepped closer to the shoreline before leaning forward to expertly flip the rigging with a long cane pole.  The hooked worm and bobber seemed to always be perfectly positioned at the end of our thoroughly stretched-out fishing line.

“Now honey, you sit and watch that bobber,” she said in a soft voice.  “Hold the pole still and don’t move the bait.  You never know when a great big catfish is going to eat that worm.  But don’t move it.  You might take it away just before he takes a big bite.”

I had no idea that she was giving me a lesson in patience, an important aspect of fishing to be used the rest of my life.

Then we sat and waited.  Both of us held canes poles and studied our bobbers that drifted on the surface.  I occasionally got impatient and started lifting my fishing pole.  She would lay a hand on my shoulder and reassure me.

“The bait is fine, just wait and watch,” she said in a patient voice.

Sometimes she would slip me a Lifesaver, green or red because they were my favorites.

We generally caught small bluegill, commonly called sunfish by their generation.  Grandma always got a smile out of watching me pick up the long cane pole to drag the fish ashore.  I always held the fish up for grandpa to see before tossing it back to grow.  You could see his smile from across the pond.

Then one day my bobber slashed under the surface and stayed down.  I picked up the cane pole and felt more pull than a three-year old could handle.

“Take the pole grandma,” I urged. “I’m afraid the fish is going to pull me in.”

“No honey,” she said in a calm voice. ”You hang on and I’ll help.”

Grandma stepped behind me to grab part of the cane pole and we fought the big catfish as it ran back and forth.  I did not know to set the hook so the fish apparently hooked itself through a savage strike.  The fish had a lot of power, sometimes pulling me forward even though grandma was holding the pole too.

Grandpa heard the commotion of a good fish slapping the surface and came to help.  Somehow we all three grabbed the pole and dragged the five-pound channel catfish on shore.  I remember jumping up and down as my grandmother smiled at my youthful energy and excitement.  He held the fine fish up for me to see and proclaimed it my first catfish, even though I had plenty of help landing the good fighter.

We decided to leave. The commotion and excitement of landing the fish and my jumping around no doubt spooked the other fish a bit.  Besides, that catfish was enough to feed our family.  Other fish in the pond meant more meals later, my first conservation lesson; although in 1956 I didn’t realize what that meant.

Grandpa cut up the catfish and then grandma took over.  Few will ever fry a fish better, generally in fresh hog lard.  My grandparents arrived later with my mom and dad to enjoy a beautiful catfish dinner with friend potatoes, peas and a fresh blackberry cobbler.  Everyone, of course made a big deal about me catching dinner.  I wish they were all here so we could talk about that day.  Maybe they were with me as I wrote this memory.

Great grandpa and grandma were gone a few years later.  I wonder if their fishing spirits have prompted me to make a living writing about their favorite sport.

Somehow I think so and I’m trying to pass the same on to other youngsters too.

Author Kenneth L. Keiser was inducted into the National Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame in 2010 as a Legendary Communicator, he pays homage and love to his great grandmother for getting him started on fishing and the outdoors as a very young boy.

America Needs More Boy Scouts

Posted on by Eric Dinger

Boy Scouts

My wife, Stephanie, and I just spent the weekend Christmas shopping in Chicago. Our annual trip through the aisles of Michigan Avenue and State Street is a fun change of pace from the streak of hunting and fishing trips that usually dot my calendar throughout the year. While in many ways I would consider Chicago a great American city, my perception of our third largest city took a few body punches on this trip. In my opinion, Chicago is suffering.

We saw marches, boisterous demonstrations from disenfranchised youth, leagues of tired, stressed-out workers, and in general, observed a city of people with their bolts over-tightened. Hundreds and hundreds of police officers, visible in the accompanying photo, lined the streets in an effort to maintain civility. Life is complicated everywhere, but have we stooped so low that we’re willing to accept this as “normal” in one of our greatest cities?

Our work at Powderhook is about getting people into the outdoors. Fundamentally, we believe a connection to the natural world helps people gain a sense of place and perspective, and helps them learn to value the world around them. Certainly the outdoors can be one vehicle for exposing people to a value system, but in a place like Chicago it is flat difficult to access those experiences. The war on traditional values is alive and well.

Boy ScoutsAccording to Census Data, nearly 2/5 children in America is growing up in a single-parent household. Of the remaining 3/5 of American kids, two-thirds are members of dual-income families, leaving Moms and Dads of any household less and less time to lead a family. Only 17% of Americans attend religious services each week, the lowest number ever recorded, eroding the value systems taught by our faith-based institutions. As our melting pot urbanizes, gains weight and hustles to make a living, must we accept that our values are changing? Or, is there something we can do to preserve the important things as the superfluous tides roll in and out?

Chicago, and all of America, needs more Boy Scouts. Along with groups like Girl Scouts, 4-H, FFA, FCCLA, and others, these organizations exist to teach fundamental values that can be tough to find in other places. They seemed really tough to find last weekend in Chicago.

Read this excerpt from the Boy Scouts website:

The Boy Scouts of America is one of the nation’s largest and most prominent values-based youth development organizations. The BSA provides a program for young people that builds character, trains them in the responsibilities of participating citizenship, and develops personal fitness.

For over a century, the BSA has helped build the future leaders of this country by combining educational activities and lifelong values with fun. The Boy Scouts of America believes — and, through over a century of experience, knows — that helping youth is a key to building a more conscientious, responsible, and productive society.

To me, this sounds the America we once knew and wish to see once again. Mahatma Gandhi once said, “If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. We need not wait to see what others do.” I think he’s right. Time to go get my kids signed-up.

 

About the author: Eric Dinger is the co-founder and CEO of Powderhook.com, an app built to help people hunt and fish more often. He can be reached at eric@powderhook.com.

An Open Letter to the Anti-Hunter, Makes us ALL THINK

Posted on by Eric Dinger
  • Animal Lives Matter, All Animals
  • Are We Divided?
  • 13 Million Americans Hunt, What Are They Thinking? 

If you don’t approve of hunting, for whatever reason, I want you to know I appreciate you taking a minute to read this letter. My intention is to offer a couple facts about hunting you may not know. I don’t expect to change your mind altogether, but I do hope to provide some information that may create a more informed conversation.

You’re right. Our civilization has changed such that many people no longer need to directly participate in the food chain. Cities of us can go to grocery stores for the food we once grew or killed for ourselves. So, why then does hunting still matter?

You’re right. All living things have value. Animal lives matter, and that’s all animals, not just the one whose hair is stuck to your shirt right now. If that’s true, how can someone argue killing an animal is not only justified but important?

The on-going debate surrounding the value and ethics of hunting litters our news feeds and newspapers, often serving to divide those that hunt from those that don’t. I hunt. If that divides me from you, we need to talk, because it’s possible the very reason you oppose hunting may be among the most important reasons to support hunting.

The biosystems of our planet are under attack, and humans are largely to blame. Earth is experiencing record high average temperatures each year, and humans are devastating natural habitat on all continents at record pace. So, what are the facts about hunting? If they were better understood, could all people who love animals, and all people who care about the health of our planet find common ground?

Annually, over 13 million people hunt, nearly 40 million people fish, and more than 40 million people target shoot. The only emotion-based fact I’ll present in this letter is the following: hunting is a way of life for a lot of people. Most are ethical, well-meaning people. Some are not, just like any other cross-section of humanity. I started with this, because we’re already at an impasse if we can’t agree here. I’m an example of a hunter, so I’ll speak for myself. Many of my most cherished memories are times when I’ve been hunting. Hunting and fishing are a part of who I am, part of the way I look at the world, and part of my value system. Hunting doesn’t define me, no more than does being a Bernie Sanders voter, or homosexual, or Muslim define someone else. But hunting is absolutely part of my identity. There is literally nothing anyone can say to make me change that. Can we agree hunting is important to lots of people like me?

Okay, enough of the feely stuff.

Wildlife and wild lands are owned by the public, as prescribed by the Public Trust Doctrine. Each state has a fish and wildlife agency, which was given the responsibility to manage all wildlife via what’s called the North American Model of Wildlife Conservation. Where success is measured by the proliferation of wild animals, this model of wildlife management is among the most effective in the history of mankind. See, we humans are a highly invasive species. Every day we till up wildlife habitat to grow more food, to build more infrastructure, and to meld the natural world to fit our every whim. The North American Model of Wildlife Conservation is one of the only proven barriers standing between wild places and animals and their decimation. And its implementation is not cheap.

Nearly every economic, social, and cultural trend is eating away at the prospect of wild animals thriving into the future. Except, perhaps ironically, hunting, fishing and recreational shooting. You’ve probably heard the argument, “hunters pay for conservation.” The extent to which this statement is true can be debated, but it is a fact that hunting plays a major role in conservation. Between 50-80% of all money spent on conservation in the United States, nearly three billion dollars, comes through one of three sources (in order of size): hunting/fishing license sales; excise taxes paid on hunting/fishing/recreational shooting gear; and donations to conservation non-profits. Hunting and fishing license sales are a pretty well understood concept. However, most people don’t know that sportsmen of generations past lobbied for and passed Pittman-Robertson (PR), the act that placed a tax on hunting and recreational shooting gear, then later Dingell-Johnson (DJ), the act that placed a tax on fishing gear. The funds from all three sources; licenses, donations, and excise taxes are used by your state fish and wildlife agency, as well as a myriad of non-government organizations, such as Ducks Unlimited, to do the work of managing wild places for wild animals.

Without PR/DJ, sustainability of our wild lands and wild things would face serious headwinds. One must have only a rudimentary understanding of economics to understand why. If left without protection and management, wild places would soon turn into farms, ranches, and housing developments. To fund that protection, some wild animals were given a “value,” quantified by the license fee paid to hunt or catch them. No true sportsman or woman would argue the value of a living thing can be quantified in dollars; it’s simply the only scalable way anyone on earth has come up with to ensure the necessary habitat exists to sustain all species. It’s a trade-off – kill some of the deer to make it economically viable to keep and manage the land on which all deer and most all other species live.

But, couldn’t we get conservation funding into the budgets of all levels of government; local, state, and federal?

The answer is probably yes, but the economics again tell a dooming story. Public lands, such as state recreation areas or national forests, are largely viewed as a sink on the tax base, especially in more developed or more agrarian areas of our country. No one pays property taxes on this land, and it’s more difficult to tie tax revenue back to it from tourism or other uses than it is to tax income from corn production on the same parcel. Thus, privatizing land for development or production is a strategy governmental entities use to increase their tax base. If you were a politician and your constituents were asking you to choose between health care for babies or keeping our public land public, what would you do? The debate over control of our public lands is a shining example of what will happen to our wild places when it’s time to sharpen the budget pencil.

Some of the favorite non-profit organizations of anti-hunters have taken to buying land. An example is the Humane Society of the United States’ Wildlife Land Trust. The novice biologist in me says, “Great, more land for wild things.” But any wildlife biologist, for or against hunting, will tell you leaving land unmanaged is an untenable solution. Sure, it’s cheaper for the Wildlife Land Trust, but unmanaged land does little or nothing for wildlife. Nature used to do the management work for us. For thousands of years prairie habitat burned, invigorating successional habitat growth. Ignited by lightning, forest fires would burn until they simply went out. Today, firefighters feverishly dowse wildfires with chemicals and water in hopes of saving human life and assets. Ever been on a hike through a dense forest? Did you notice how animal diversity was most prolific outside of the most dense areas – perhaps where the forest opened up to a grassy area? Most woodland species are not adapted to compete in the most dense, unbroken forest cover. Just as most prairie species are not adapted to compete in the most dense, unbroken grassland areas.

The way I see it, it’s perfectly reasonable that you do not hunt.

But, I want you to understand hunting plays a very serious role in the real-world conservation that sustains nearly all species of plant and animal on Earth.  All people are in a lifelong dogfight to preserve the living things that inhabit our planet, especially you and me… since I took the time to write this letter and you took the time to read it.  The left and right, the greenies and oil barons, the anti and pro-hunters – we’re all bound to this watery rock and can only take from it so much before we endanger the wild animals and places in our way. Let’s stop arguing and get to work.

Sincerely,

Eric Dinger, Founder of Powderhook

About Powderhook: Powderhook is the outdoor help desk. With free maps and depth contours, thousands of events, plus the local scoop you can’t get anywhere else, a good day in the outdoors is only a download away no matter your experience level.  http://blog.powderhook.com/an-open-letter-to-hunters/.

 

 

American Outdoor Sportsman of the Year

Posted on by stoadmin

Lisa Snuggs accept her award from Legends of the Outdoors Hall of Fame founder, Garry Mason. Photo by Rob Simbeck

  • Lisa Mcdowell Snuggs 
  • Legends of the Outdoors Hall of Fame
Lisa Snuggs accept her award from Legends of the Outdoors Hall of Fame founder, Garry Mason. Photo by Rob Simbeck
Lisa Snuggs accept her award from Legends of the Outdoors Hall of Fame founder, Garry Mason. Photo by Rob Simbeck

By Jill J Easton

Lisa McDowell Snuggs was chosen as the 2016 American Outdoor Sportsman of the Year by Legends of the Outdoors Hall of Fame.  She was picked for her dedication in helping outdoor communicators – which she does 365 days a year as Executive Director of The Southeastern Outdoor Press Association (SEOPA).

Garry Mason, the founder of the organization, nominated Lisa because of her efforts to keep hunting and fishing a vibrant part of American culture, by encouraging quality outdoor communications. Her long relationship with some of the best voices of the outdoors, encourages excellence.

“Without outdoor writers, whose stories are so important, many people would not be able to see, appreciate and understand the love of the outdoors that many of us in the outdoor industry have,” said Mason. “Lisa plays a big part in making that happen and we are very proud to honor her as this year’s American Outdoor Sportsman of the Year.”

Lisa in her own Words

Lisa McDowell was born into the world of outdoor communicators.  Her dad Bodie, was an outdoor writer for the Greensboro Daily News in North Carolina.  As one of the two youngest siblings in a large family, she and her brother Mark often went along when he went out on assignment.

“Going with my dad meant checking out all the local farm ponds, dove fields and campgrounds,” Lisa said.  “It also meant regular visits to the area city-owned lakes, sportsmen’s’ clubs, and events.  More Sunday afternoons than not were spent at the local gun club.

I learned early on that everybody has a story and they are willing to tell it if you’re willing to listen.  I’ve always loved the outdoors and I’ve always enjoyed writing as well, though, until SEOPA, most of my writing is done in conjunction with a piano or guitar.

When he went to SEOPA and Outdoor Writers of America meetings, we went along and I met some of the outstanding outdoor communicators working in the 1960s and 1970s.”

Her first job was working for The Plastic Development and Research Company (PRADCO, a fishing lure company).  Along the way the talented singer and songwriter made four albums and wrote numerous outdoor-related songs.  In 2000 she became executive director of the Southeastern Outdoor Press Association a position she currently holds.

Talk about SEOPA

“The term outdoor writer includes people who share stories on paper, radio, television, video, through photography, art, blogs, websites and through songs.  It always starts with a story. It’s the words that all mediums have in common.

Anybody who enjoys reading, watching and/or listening to outdoors stories should thank an outdoor writer. They play a big part in keeping the heritage sports of fishing, hunting, camping, boating and shooting alive.

If you are interested in learning more about SEOPA, or any of the regional or national outdoor writer groups, they all have excellent websites.  For communicators that would enjoy finding help from the excellent speakers that share information at our conferences, the newsletter and more than 400 writers and outdoor-related companies, check us out. The qualifications for membership are listed on the website and applications can be completed on line.”

What personality characteristic makes you a good linchpin for SEOPA?

“Being a good listener, and I’ve been told I have the heart of a servant.  I enjoy helping people. Figuring out how SEOPA members can help each other and seeing it happen is so rewarding.”

What part of the job do you enjoy most? 

“The most rewarding project so far is working on the Lindsay Sale-Tinney award.  It’s a scholarship that brings an aspiring young communicator to the conference each year.  The award was established in 2011 by Stu Tinney, the founder of Striper Magazine, in honor of his late wife Lindsay.

Of the six recipients so far, four are still SEOPA members and seem to be well on their way to establishing themselves as outdoor communicators.  Meeting these young people and getting them and other young people involved in SEOPA is an honor.

Lindsay Sale-Tinney loved helping young people learn about the outdoors.  She was a talented writer, photographer, angler, equestrian and all-around good person.  She would be proud of the work we’re doing in her name.  The award is a part of the Outdoor Journalist Education Foundation of America.  People can find out more about it at by visiting seopa.org and clicking on OJEFA.”

Describe your work in the outdoor industry

“I worked for PRADCO for 10 years starting in 1986 as the company’s outdoor writer liaison.  I showed new products to the media at the annual fishing tackle trade show produced by the American Sportfishing Asssociation.  Back then it was called the AFTMA show, which stood for American Fishing Tackle Manufacturers Association (now it’s known as iCAST).  I also represented the company at several outdoor writer conferences each year.  Because of attending the SEOPA and OWAA conferences when I was a kid, I knew many folks in the industry. Working with PRADCO allowed me to get to know even more writers and broadcasters from all over the country.

In the mid-90s, I worked with a group of investors in Tennessee who were marketing sporting goods on television.  When that didn’t work out I took a temporary job working for Castlerock Productions when they were in Tennessee filming “The Green Mile.”  The exterior of my house was used as Tom Hanks’ house and I ended up working for the construction division of the film company.  When that came to an end, I managed an office for a small manufacturing firm for a couple years until the opportunity with SEOPA came along in 2000.  It was meant to be!”

Who are some of the famous outdoor folks you have met, known and worked with?

“Outdoor communicators and the people they write about are the best people in the world.  It’s almost like a secret society.  I guess all groups of kindred souls feel the same way – you know – birds of a feather, but there’s just something special about “my” group.

Some of the folks I’ve met and called friends in this business include Tom Gresham and his dad Grits, Homer Circle, Forrest and Nina Wood, Ronnie “Cuz” Strickland, Ray Scott, Jim Zumbo, Mark Sosin, Tom Kelly, Tes Jolly and Jimmy Houston.  Lots of professional anglers who fished on the circuits in the 80s or earlier like Bobby and Billy Murray, Rick Clunn, Zell Rowland, Hank Parker, Roland Martin, Bill Dance, and of course Sugar Ferris who founded Bass’n Gals for women like Kathy Magers and Linda England.

I think it’s interesting that so many country music artists enjoy fishing and hunting, too.  I met Merle Haggard at a Bassmasters Classic in the 1980s and presented special fishing lure packages to George Jones and Travis Tritt when they were producing PSAs for the fishing industry in the early ‘90s.  Music and fishing go together.”

In addition to your work with outdoor writers you are a musician, how has this affected your outdoor career?

“Music has always been a big part of my life.  It’s given me so many opportunities and introduced me to some of my favorite people.  My first job was playing the piano during Sunday buffet at the Holiday Inn.  I got $5 and all I could eat.  As a bonus the chief taught me the secret of his fried chicken!  When I was 17 I started playing in a family-owned restaurant every Wednesday night and one weekend a month.

Lisa Snuggs with a wintertime bass caught in a small lake at Sumter Farms near Geiger, Ala., on the far western edge of the Alabama Black Belt Region. Photo by Jeff Samsel
Lisa Snuggs with a wintertime bass caught in a small lake at Sumter Farms near Geiger, Ala., on the far western edge of the Alabama Black Belt Region. Photo by Jeff Samsel

“Then dad got me a gig singing a few outdoorsy songs and Amazing Grace to kick off the Sunday session of Indiana University’s American Fishing Institute when it came to Raleigh.  After hearing me sing, Billy Murray told me I should sing Ramblin’ Fever with the words changed to Fishin’ Fever.  I said, “You write ‘em down and I’ll sing ‘em.”  He scribbled down the changes and that became the first song about fishing I recorded.  I wrote more than a dozen fishing and outdoor-related songs after that, recorded two albums in the mid-80s and recut some of them and a few new ones in 1996.

SEOPA conferences were great memories when I was a kid.  Tom Rollins, the first executive director, played the guitar and would always sing a few songs after the banquet on the last night. People would gather and sing along.

 Tom and his wife Mona came to visit us in North Carolina several times and he always brought his guitar along.  When I began attending SEOPA on behalf of PRADCO, I was glad to see the sing-along tradition was still in place.  By then I was able to participate in earnest instead of just listening.  Then, when I was hired by SEOPA we kept gathering on the final night to “pick and grin.”  It was always just a casual get together and a way to relax after a busy conference.  One president was so impressed by all the talent in the room that he insisted it become an official part of the conference.

These days it’s a part of the dinner program and is sponsored by the National Wild Turkey Federation, Pheasants Forever, Ducks Unlimited and Winchester. Representative from these organizations enjoy sharing their conservation messages in such a festive yet intimate setting.”

What are your favorite outdoor activities?

“Fishing is my favorite outdoor activity, though I haven’t done much of it lately. When I said that to Uncle Homer one time he said, ‘You have to make time, like you would for anything else that’s important.’  He was right, of course.  Most anglers agree that catching a fish is the proverbial icing on the cake of being outdoors.

Fishing forces you, as one of my songs says, “to leave it all behind.”  I have fished in so many beautiful places and I remember thinking about (and feeling sorry for) all the people in the world who have no idea such peaceful places exist.  There’s just nothing like feeling you have thousands of acres of water to yourself as you make just one more cast at sunset.  You have no choice but to relax.

Another favorite activity is simply walking around in the woods, especially in winter. It’s even better with someone who knows more about plants and animals than you do.”

Beyond the Rod and Reel

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

Share life with others. Make new friends in the outdoors. Lead by example.

Summertime fun from the clean sand of Lake Erie surf includes such treasure as colorful sea glass, great for a new adventure with kids young and old.  Forrest Fisher Photo

Kayakers are searching for places to try out their new toys, birds are looking for places to wet their wings and cool off, and for anglers, hunters, hikers, campers and even outdoor photography buffs, the climate is testing their limits too. Tell me something I didn’t know, you say.

In the northeast United States, which includes Western New York, Cazenovia Creek, Buffalo Creek, Cayuga Creek and Tonawanda Creek are all feeling the swagger of the hot, dry summer we are experiencing.

Creek water flow all around the northeast is slow and low, almost nil, though the eastern Lake Erie beaches and surf do allow relief from the heat for swimmers and there are collections of colorful sea glass treasures to be found along the surf line for extra fun.

The dog days of summer are good for many things and one of them a tasty chicken dinner from the grill. It’s a good time to support local organizations, the VFW and Legion Posts, Boys and Girls Clubs, many others.

My bride and I enjoyed every tasty bite of just such a dinner recently and as we consumed our tasty morsels of goodness, we watched a blue heron search for his dinner in the nearby creek. Wings spread wide as he soared down the nearly dry creekbed, his search did not appear successful within our view.

A Blue Heron in search of the lunch while sailing and hovering over a nearly waterless creekbed in New York State. Jim Monteleone Photo

Then two hummingbirds buzzed by and a half-dozen doves started cooing away in the shade of a nearby tree. A crow cawed once or twice downstream and above all this adventure in tasty chicken consumption, oohing and awing on our end– it was that good, I felt safe and content, and surprised that we didn’t render a surprise attack from a hungry coyote or fox while we were making all that savory noise of palate-satisfying jubilation.

Summer days like this are a good time to catch up with old friends too and share musings and memories in conversation about life, the outdoors, kids and the fun of new challenges in the modern adventure of surviving tomorrow.

Our outdoorsy conversation did not escape the topic of the presidential election, taxes, titles and time-honored traditions too. We also talked about many new things in the outdoors that more people need to know much more about right now, namely, Lyme disease.

An increasing number of people have been stricken by this affliction in the northeast United States and the disease appears to be spreading westward at an alarming rate. It all started in the early 70’s in Lyme, Connecticut, hence the name of the affliction. Lyme disease is not curable once it is established in a person, they can only hope to find treatment to attain remission. It’s nasty and what’s worse, it appears that many health insurance companies do not recognize the disease for treatment, so folks have to pay out of pocket. Go figure that one out!

Many outdoor folks know that deer ticks (black-legged ticks) are responsible for the bite that can infect people with Lyme disease, but many do not know that the ticks are carried and spread largely by mice, not deer. No matter where you live, we all see mice. If you have mice around your home and yard, get rid of them and stay safe from attracting the Lyme disease carriers.

Thought for this week:
Share life with others.
Make new friends in the outdoors.
Lead by example.

Become a Citizen Scientist for Black Bear Research in New York New “iSeeMammals” App

Posted on by stoadmin

By NYSDEC

iSeeMammals is a new citizen science project of DEC and the New York Cooperative Fish and Wildlife Research Unit at Cornell University. It collects data to help researchers and DEC biologists study the distribution and size of the black bear population in New York. iSeeMammals will help researchers collect data from more areas than researchers can cover in the field.

Participation is open to all. iSeeMammals collects information about where and when users identify bears or bear signs (scat, tracks, hair, markings) while hiking or on their personal trail cameras. Photographs of observations, repeat hikes, and trail cameras set up for multiple months are strongly encouraged. An app for data collection and submission is available for free download in Apple and Android stores.

Visit iSeeMammals.org to:

Learn more about the project

Access photo galleries of iSeeMammals data as photos are submitted

Get information on bear ecology and bear management in New York

See extras like quizzes, contests, and giveaways

Training workshops and seminars may be available; inquire via their contact form. 

 

Light Wizards of the Midnight Woods

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

We discovered this book while visiting the Black Caddis Ranch B&B and it started us on a new adventure with the outdoors that we will enjoy or all time. Radim Schreiber Photo.

 

We can all connect to nature with our visits with fireflies. They seem to talk with us if you listen, especially in Tionesta, Pennsylvania. Click picture for a visit to the Firefly Experience. Radim Schreiber Photo

By Forrest Fisher

The half-moon rising in the distant eastern sky was dim and sheltered by scattered, giant, white clouds. The openings in the clouds allowed us to see millions of stars and the vastness of the Milky Way as we have never seen before. There were no streetlights anywhere within miles of this cheerful and peaceful mountaintop place and the crackle of the fire was adjusting to the new log. It provided the perfect music to especially enjoy this time of day.

Our adventure into the outdoors took a wonderful turn this summer when Peggy tossed a new log onto the simmering campfire. The sunset was just about complete, a stream of beautiful tinsel sparks rose upward. It was a warmly coded skyward message to life in the night woods, and to us, that darkness had arrived.

Rose, my wife of 49 years, had a warm smile like she often does, as she was discussing some fine points of nature and observing wildlife with our granddaughter. Kiley was completing a summer research internship for the State University of New York Environmental School of Forestry in Syracuse, New York, as a senior college student. I sensed that science and adventure were finding common ground. Rose had questions about the recipe to observe the ancient winged ancestors that lived here, just as they started to light nearby fields and forest.

Peggy’s sister, Barb was visiting with her two nieces, Molly (9) and Carly (12), and the girls had noticed the blinking lights of the fireflies too.  Molly noticed them first, “Aunt Peggy, look there! There they are! Wow! They’re beautiful!” Carly added, “Why do they light up and blink like that Aunt Barb?” A short silence followed as Barb looked to Peggy who prepared to answer, “Well, the fireflies that light up are the boy fireflies and they’re calling to the lady fireflies to show them where they are. They’re looking for a date. It’s that simple.”

The flight of the fireflies applauded with intricate light beams in a code that seemed to match the rhythm and Ukulele tone of music around the campfire.  

Peggy smiled. Barb smiled. Rose and Kiley smiled. Carly answered, “Oh, ok, I get it.”

Just then Molly rose from her fireside chair and ran onto the backyard lawn. Molly cheered, “Look at all the fireflies!” The back lawn was skirted by a knee-high grassland meadow around the backyard perimeter. Kiley went to Molly and added to the conversation about fireflies and explained the great job that her Aunt Peggy and Uncle Ken had done with helping everyone in the whole world understand more about fireflies at this ranch.

Rose and I shared thoughts about these intriguing airborne insects of the night. Do they carry a message for us all? It seems that fireflies offer magic and wonder to every outdoor adventure where the land and air is clean, like here, in the middle of this wonderful Pennsylvania woods just south of the Allegheny National Forest, in Tionesta, Pennsylvania.

We all sat there in awe of all the twinkling airborne light forms. Hundreds and hundreds of them. My mind transcended to an effortless zone of harmony and wonder for a moment, a thought-binding moment.

There is mystical, divine and magical experience from the light of a true firefly experience like this. I sat back into my chair and looked at the embers of the fire, then upward to the thousands of stars of the Milky Way shining bright. How lucky we were to be here.

Just then Kiley started to strum her Ukulele, sharing the chords played with Molly and Carly. She said, “This is a C, E minor, F, G and A minor, that’s it, pretty easy with a little practice,” Would you like to try it? That was Peggy’s que to bring her Ukulele out from the house to join in. Two Ukulele’s at the same campfire! We all knew this was one special night for our memory book of perfect medley. Kiley and Peggy were strumming and singing “Somewhere over the Rainbow” and the flight of the fireflies surrounding us seemed to be applauding with their brilliant intricate flashes in some sort of light beam code. Where is Peter Pan? I was thinking. Like the two ladies playing the music and all of us singing or humming along (I can’t sing), were on their stage. Tin Man and Judy Garland were there in spirit. There were bears, wolves, trout and other critters of nature alive in our campfire talk.

That’s when I learned that we can talk to fireflies.

We can question them. They reply. Feel the connection by virtue of the extraordinary light gallery.

We discovered this book while visiting the Black Caddis Ranch B&B and it started us on a new adventure with the outdoors that we will enjoy or all time. Radim Schreiber Photo. 

We can all connect to nature by our visits with fireflies. Such visits require no special gear. A comfortable chair, perhaps, a glass of wine from a grape aging specialist, Gregg Stoos, and a quiet campfire with friends.

The fireflies, like guiding spirits, dance to challenge the darkness with their light.

They hover and move silently through the darkness.

Their movement and motion with different color light can appear to write a letter or a symbol. Are these the source for early Greek symbols? The roots of math? My mind wanders and wonders.

The fireflies provide a sure source for wonder…are they sharing a language not yet known to us? A secret code? Perhaps early settler groups to North America could understand this code? I ask myself. Is it a computer code? A binary switch of sorts? A prismatic code not yet known to us? Does it lead to a vault of undiscovered knowledge?

Whatever signals the night light beacons of the fireflies share, to watch them is enlightening.

All these thoughts, yet, so many questions in wonder, how can that be? I ask myself.

I realize I am so relaxed, so mesmerized by the flight of these miracle insects that fly with lighted inspiration. Everyone sitting around the campfire is too.

The Black Caddis Ranch B&B and Cabins in Tionesta, Pennsylvania, offered all the comforts of home and more, with delicious breakfasts, peaceful parlor rooms, and new friendships with fireflies and hummingbirds. Click the picture for more.

Just being near these fragile airborne creatures of the night is such a reward to cherish. For us astonished onlookers, their intricate behaviors seem to share a virtue of loving life and respect for one another.

As the music lessened, the magic around the campfire was evident to all. This Black Caddis Ranch place is a really special place, as we were isolated to the darkness of this perfect night with a band of chivalrous fireflies that led us to enjoy a nighttime gallery of airborne art to appear all around us.

Kiley added, “Each firefly species is different and has a season. Their season can be predicted by growing degree days, it’s a sort of farm language. Synchronous fireflies (Photinus carolinus) are out during June about the time the orange daylilies bloom and usually peak at end of June. The “big dippers” or photinus pyralis, start to appear at the beginning of July.” Rose and I returned home the next day to sit in our backyard about three hours north. We saw some fireflies there too, but nothing like what we saw in Tionesta, Pennsylvania.

Peggy and Ken Butler host a wonderful Bed & Breakfast Lodging House called the Black Caddis Ranch in Tionesta, Pennsylvania, it is home to the Pennsylvania Firefly Festival, and I guess we know why now. There is firefly magic in this special place. The spacious accommodations are wonderful and are modernized amidst a home that was built in the 1800’s. Real wood floors and walls and kitchen tables, a giant stone fireplace in the front parlor, complete with homemade pancakes and maple syrup from nearby trees, and a myriad of other breakfast goodies, this all made this place that sort of place that my better half and I search for…and only hope to find. Peggy and Ken, and many close friends, are the originators of the Pennsylvania Firefly Festival (PAFF, https://www.pafireflyfestival.org/) that is hosted at their ranch, but there are fireflies present on most summer nights.  It’s a magical place.

We’re going back to be inspired by the night flight of fireflies, the Milky Way, a quiet campfire and honest friends. The daytime song and buzz of hummingbirds adds to the peace and magic found here.

For more info: Ken and Peggy Butler – Black Caddis Ranch B&B and Cabins, 13558 Route 666, Tionesta, Pa., 16353. Phone: (814) 463-7606. Web: www.blackcaddisranch.blogspot.com and also https://www.pafireflyfestival.org/.

 

It’s Fawning Season…things to Know…things to Help

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

Healthy whitetail deer management practices are key to healthy wildlife. Jim Monteleone Photo

Photo by Art Jacobson, retired DEC biologist

Fawns are frisky, healthy, delightful and ready to play with anyone that will return the favor.  Mostly their brothers and sisters, and mother. There are lots of them right now.

Most fawns in New York are born in late May or early June, and the first few months are a critical period for survival.

Fawn survival is heavily influenced by habitat quality, and those fawns that have good hiding cover and quality forage have the odds in their favor.

You can improve habitat for fawns on your lands by promoting native forbs in fields and forests.

• Avoid mowing large fields until mid-August –  mowing fields in June can kill or injure fawns. Large, un-mowed fields provide excellent cover from predators and high quality native forage for fawns and their mothers.

• Create patches of young forest within your woodlot – removing overstory trees and allowing more sunlight to penetrate to the forest floor, will stimulate growth of herbaceous plants and new tree seedlings. Fawn survival is typically lower in wooded areas than in areas with some agriculture and fields, but increased greenery on the forest floor improves cover for fawns, helping them to stay camouflaged and protected from predators. It also provides more food for the fawn and its nursing doe. Overstory tree removal is best done during winter or another period outside of the breeding, nesting or brood-rearing season for many wildlife species.

• Keep winter in mind – Thinking ahead to winter projects, it is much easier to identify trees by their leaves than by their bark. Summer can be a good time to mark trees for winter-time cutting projects designed to enhance year-round browse and cover. Contact a DEC forester or biologist for advice.

• DEC reminds you, if you happen to find a fawn: If you care, leave it there!  For more information and answers to frequently asked questions about the care of young wildlife, visit DEC’s website.

Employing these simple practices can help fawns survive into adulthood. After all, healthy fawns have a better chance of becoming healthy adults and improve our opportunity to let young bucks go and watch them grow!

Parsons, Kansas: Warm Country, Warm People, Big Deer and Lots of Turkey

Posted on by David Gray
  • No Traffic, Multiple Turkey Species Greet Visiting Outdoors Folks
  • Visit Parsons to meet and greet the Heartland of our USA
Labette County, Kansas, offers sportsmen the adventure of a lifetime.

By David Gray

The day started with the anticipation of attending the Outdoor Communicators of Kansas conference in Labette County, Kansas.  The travel was to Parsons Kansas which is nestled in the southeast corner of Kansas, just west of Missouri, just north of Oklahoma.  May 7, 2018 was a day well spent. 

The drive to Parsons, Kansas, delivers a calm serenity. Turning south out of Kansas City the land quickly transcends from what some call city to what many call country.  Hills, trees, and fields blend into scenery of all that nature presents in the heartland of America.

The highway is not clogged bumper to bumper. You drive with goodwill and absorb the view.  A landscape of nature dotted with horses, cattle, turkey and deer.  Everywhere you look is a place you would like to hike thru.

The land is changed from when it was part of the Cherokee nation, but a steady look can reveal many things that are much the same. Sameness in this light is a good thing.

Parsons, Kansas, is as so many towns in the heartland, full of people that are happy to see you and are happy themselves. Maybe some of their happiness comes from living so close to the land. The land opens its arms to greet you and presents itself ever so differently from the concrete, pavement, buildings and congestion of the metropolitan environment.

With only 10,500 people that reside in this peaceful city…Parsons, Kansas is one of those special places that many sportsmen consider among their top 10 places to take a hunting and fishing vacation.

This part of Kansas was well chosen by the Kansas Outdoor Communicators for a conference on how the outdoor media might best serve those who need to revisit the outdoors on a more regular basis. At the same time, the gathering introduced the area to those of us who also find time spent outdoors the best way to spend our time.

Multiple species of turkey are present here, making Parsons a place to remember for future gobbler hunting.

A great part of the outdoors is fishing and hunting. The Cherokee did it, our European ancestors did it and we Americans continue to do it. Those who do it best, do it with respect and connection.

Mixed with the conference business meetings and discussions, the attendees went to the land and water to participate. There are so many outdoor opportunities in this southeast corner of the great state of Kansas.

Maybe the best thing about Parsons, Kansas, is that people not only look at you and smile, but stop and talk to you.  You may get asked where you are from and you likely get a warm welcome and sociable, “Thanks so much for visiting!”    

That is nice. This place is special.

 

Colorado Elk Habitat Protected, Hunting Access Improved

Posted on by RMEF

  •  
  • 2,677 Acres of Vital Elk Habitat is NOW PROTECTED
  • Colorado Habitat Stamp Funding and Great Outdoors Colorado supplied KEY FUNDING
  • Grateful Thanks to Rick Tingle for Easement on his Louisiana Purchase Ranch

MISSOULA, MT.— Thanks to a conservation-minded landowner and a key state funding program, the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation joined Colorado Parks and Wildlife (CPW) to permanently protect 2,677 acres of vital elk habitat in northwest Colorado.

“We are grateful to Rick Tingle, a RMEF life member, for placing a conservation easement on his Louisiana Purchase Ranch,” said Blake Henning, RMEF chief conservation officer. “Additionally, this project highlights the critical need for the Colorado Wildlife Habitat Program (CWHP) and its Habitat Stamp which supplied important funding to help push things through to the finish line.”

“With a fast-growing human population, it is more important than ever before to ensure the state’s wildlife has the habitat it needs to survive in perpetuity,” said Bill de Vergie, CPW area wildlife manager. “Thanks to funds provided by Great Outdoors Colorado and CPW’s Habitat Stamp Program, a very valuable stretch of land is now protected through the CWHP. Some limited public hunting access will also be provided so the benefits of this easement will pay dividends well into the future.”

CWHP provides a means for CPW to work with private landowners, local governments, and conservation organizations to protect important fish and wildlife habitat and provide places for people to enjoy opportunities to hunt and fish.

Since the ranch is bordered on three sides by State Land Board and Bureau of Land Management land in a part of the state home to Colorado’s largest elk herds, it provides connectivity for elk and mule deer migration. Thousands of elk pass through the area during the spring and fall. The property also provides summer and winter range for both species and other wildlife.

“This truly is a special place,” said David Allen, RMEF president and CEO, who has visited the location. “We are grateful to the Tingle family for recognizing and helping us protect the wildlife values of this land.”

Access is improved to surrounding public lands because the landowner will provide perpetual unlimited permission to public hunters for a 25-day period each year with drive-through access. In addition, he signed off on a 10-year CPW agreement to provide access for six elk and/or deer hunters on lands off County Road 23 during a three-day window during Colorado’s third rifle season.

Since 1987, RMEF and its partners completed 726 conservation and hunting heritage outreach projects in Colorado with a combined value of more than $165.2 million. These projects protected or enhanced 447,910 acres of habitat and opened or improved public access to 107,992 acres.

About the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation: Founded over 30 years ago, fueled by hunters and a membership of more than 227,000 strong, RMEF has conserved more than 7.3 million acres for elk and other wildlife. RMEF also works to open and improve public access, fund and advocate for science-based resource management, and ensure the future of America’s hunting heritage. Discover why “Hunting Is Conservation™” at www.rmef.org, elknetwork.com or 800-CALL ELK.

 

 

 

 

New Year 2018, Venue for Outdoor Review, Much Change and Much To Learn

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • Moms Take to the Woods and Streams with Their Kids
  • More Industry is heading to Preserves and Protected Areas
  • Global Warming, Invasive Species…More

By Forrest Fisher

A grandmother of six from New York State, Rose Barus says, “Alaska is beautiful, but if we talk with folks that have lived there for generations, they acknowledge that change is taking place. Let’s all work to understand much more.”  Forrest Fisher Photo

In the lives of sportsmen and sportswomen, the outdoors is about fishing, hunting, hiking, camping, boating, safe shooting, all that and more. Today we know that many things are subject to change and are scientifically measurable. One of the largest trends (change) is that there are many more ladies than ever before taking hunter safety training, learning to fish and becoming certified all across the country to carry a handgun. Modern moms want their kids to eat organic, untainted food, like venison from deer and to be safe. More moms in the woods will take their kids with them.  More kids in the outdoors, a very good change.

If we talk to folks in Alaska, they acknowledge things are changing. There are fewer halibut to catch, Chinook (king) salmon are part of a variable up and down population swing more often and there are plans for new copper mines (at Bristol Bay) that may contaminate a myriad of pure water rivers with their process discharge effluents.

Is our increasing population to blame for many of the changes we read and hear about? Is world industry to blame? Is our world receding? Global warming, is it for real?

Many college-oriented experts say so, despite certain science that appears to still be quite uncertain to measure long term trends. Some experts say we do have measurable evidence of shrinking ice caps.  We all might agree that our weather is certainly changing, that’s for sure, but is it a natural cycle or man-caused?

Birds are a serious part of the storyteller tale of evidence about our planet ecosystem. There are more than 10,000 bird species in the world, but in the last 100 years, about 200 of those species have gone extinct. Should we be concerned? Yes, of course, but we should work to understand why these birds have disappeared. Those reasons might include poaching, polluted waterways, contaminated air currents, inadequate garbage disposal and a long list of manageable people issues that until now, were not considered important.

Birds, fish, seals, beluga whales, walruses, polar bears, many other animals, arctic ice and people like you and me, all seem affected.  So, believe it, we are certainly in the process of change. To the untrained among us (like me), we accept that most people are not climate scientists, biologists or environmental science engineers, but we do need to rely on the science and studies, and understanding, of these experts who do know.

With communication e-networks on the increase, it you live your life at work and at home from your smartphone and laptop, like a majority of working people today, where do we draw the line on false facts and untruths that can seem to affect lives? We can only combat the fold between falsity and truth by asking questions and trying to get involved so we can all understand more about our changing environment and actual reality.

The fact about all that is, for the bulk of us, the outdoors is something we do for recreation. It’s not our life. Maybe we need to make the outdoors and understanding it a larger part of our lives. Ecosystems worldwide are changing. Ships, planes and global industry are a big part of the management issue for world eco-health. Invasive species have come to us from these sources and more.

We have killer bees in much of America, Burmese pythons in the two million acres of the Everglades, snakehead fish that can breathe air or water in the Potomac River, and many more invasive critters that most of us sportsmen have little or no concern about. We should. These invasives are changing things, many have NO predators. Get involved.

Overall, we read there are something like 50,000 invasive plants and animal species in America alone. In Lake Erie, there are 186 invasive species at last count. There are non-native fish and mussels in that mix, too. These things affect you and me, and us all.  America offers many great places to enjoy the outdoors in all its splendor, but yes, it is changing.

As sportsmen, let’s help our neighbors all around America by keeping an eye on things that can change our ecosystem. Let’s keep our national parks and monument trails intact. Let’s prevent industry from moving to capture minerals, oil and precious ore from areas that are now protected. They have been protected for a reason: to prevent change.

Many industries want to mine copper in the border waters of Minnesota, or drill for oil and mine in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in the name of new energy development. I think these and many other areas should consider continued protection from industrial exploitation well into the future.

It’s important to let your legislators know how you feel about such change. Please join me in one resolution for the new year, to get more involved in these issues that affect our future.

It’s a Happy New Year for learning and sharing.

 

 

 

Outdoor Adventure is No Coincidence – Get the Kids, Pack Up the Car

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • Define a New Resolution Milepost for this New Year! 
  • Outdoor Adventure for your Family ONLY BEGINS WITH YOU
  • Teach your Kids to Find Clear Skies and Share Real Outdoor Tales
  • Cast a Line, Pitch a Tent, Pan-Fry Dinner, Hunt, Shoot or Watch for Shooting Stars…Here’s How

By Forrest Fisher

The littlest fish can provide the greatest thrill when you’re 3-years old! She screamed and said, “Help! I have a giant fish! Help!” Unforgettable moments that will last a lifetime – for both of us.  

If you are a wanna-be outdoorsman, no matter where you live, you might or might not already know that there is no end to the fun to be found outdoors through all 12 months of the year.  You sense the need for new outdoor discovery, but what to do, where to go, who to call?

You can fish from shore or boat or ice – and score on fun and food for the family.  You can hunt for small game, big game or many game birds and enjoy in the sacred traditions of our forefathers.  You can camp in any of hundreds, maybe thousands, of wildlife management areas.  You can hike to your heart’s content for miles along your favorite trails, a lake shore, around your favorite pond, along a mountain stream or in any of many state and national parks.  There many places to find the roads less travelled.

You can keep up with seasonal changes and best places to do all these “outdoor things” by joining a local outdoor club where you live.  Find a phonebook to look them up to find them, but these outdoor club groups abound all across the country.  Nationally, look for Trout Unlimited, the Safari Club, Ducks Unlimited, the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation, Back Country Hunters and Anglers, Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership,  the National Wildlife Federation, the National Rifle Association or the National Shooting Sports Foundation.  Experts share their innermost outdoor secrets in many of these groups.

If you would rather “see” to learn, visually, you can take a side-seat to recorded adventure and excitement outdoors.  You can absorb and learn from that one moment of  truth that only occurs in the wilds – setting the hook, taking the shot – there is outdoor television.  We have today, a choice of outdoor channels that cater to the wonderful specialized outdoor interests of fishing, hunting, camping and capturing to share that special spirit to be discovered in the wild outdoors.

Bowhunting with my grandson started when he was 6-years old, we hiked, scouted the woods and made sure we had enough face camo to blend in – the most fun part at that age.

For myself, I was so fortunate to have had parents that understood just how important starting kids off in the outdoors was, teaching us three kids to fish from when we were very young – I was four years old.  My mom and dad have both passed on now, I so miss them, but their lessons of living an honest life and their lessons for functional simplicity live on with me each day. They kept things easy for us kids to understand. Starting a fire, baiting a hook, stopping to listen to the water run through the rocks of a stream or over a waterfall.  They would stop and say, “Isn’t that beautiful? We would watch deer from a distance all summer, then hunt in fall. We learned to love every season.

In January, my oldest granddaughter and I would tap the maple trees in our nearby woods to make a few gallons of delicious maple syrup. Today, this young lady is in her last year of college studying to be an environmental scientist. 

Now, especially during the holiday season and with the joy of Christmas, I think of the delicious family recipes they passed on that always included the bounty of the outdoors.  Our Christmas dinner included the whole family sitting around the table.  At first, there was just my mom and dad, my brother, sister and me.  We quickly grew to more than 20 people bonded by our love of family, the outdoors and an understanding of our supreme Creator, who we thanked before the grand meal at every Christmas dinner.  There were specialty dishes mom would make and these included old-fashioned, handmade delicacies.  Potato soup, fish dinner, homemade sweet bread and honey, a side salad of garden vegetables that included lettuce, carrots, radishes, tomatoes and ground salt and pepper.  As we slurped the soup, my dad would pass out four walnuts to each of us. We passed the nutcracker around and broke these open to eat with the salad, each nut reflected the forecast for your health through each quarter of the following year.  A good nut meant good health, a crumbly nut meant you better be careful in that quarter. Mystical? Maybe, but you know, it was just something they passed on from their parents and, as kids, we believed every word.  If we received a bad nut, mom would hold us to eat more fruits and vegetables in that quarter to “make sure” we did not get sick. It worked too. There were no magical pills, of course, we were all “good nuts.”

Fishing for Lake Erie smallmouth bass is fun when you’re 7-years old and grandpa says, “Set the hook!” When the drag starts screaming and your grandkids are screaming louder…special moments for all time.

We lived in Western New York, the fish dinner included walleye from Lake Erie, perch and crappie came from Silver Lake and Chautauqua Lake, and bass from Buffalo Creek near Blossom, New York.  I rode my bike to that creek about three or four days each week in summer, met my cousin there who came from the other direction, and we would fish all day to catch our limit of smallmouth bass.  On most days, we used small crayfish (freshwater crabs) we caught by hand, they lived under the rocks in the creek. Fun? It was unforgettable! The big crabs would often be faster than we were, they would pinch our fingers. Yep, we yelped like little babies that needed a diaper change. Learned some new words too.

Dessert followed the Christmas meal, warm homemade apple pie topped with French vanilla ice cream. Ten minutes later, most of us were dozing off as we watched TV in legendary satisfaction, right before we started to sing our famous off-tune Christmas carols. No one slept through that.

Our tradition of sharing the bounty of the outdoors with family started nearly 70 years ago for me and is a keepsake that my wife and I try to maintain each year with our kids and grandkids.  In hindsight, there is not much I would ever change.

If there is one thing to share it is this: Get your kids started in the outdoors early.

They’ll find peace, joy, confidence in themselves and fun, and love of life and nature, and when you’re old and gray, if you are lucky enough, they will never stop thanking you. My better half and I smile to each other quite a lot these days.

Start the new year off this way and next year at Christmas time, you may find that the best wishes for the happiest holiday and adventure season of sharing love in the outdoors started last year…right after New Years Day.

 

 

Christmas Gift Book Idea…IN THE LAND OF THE BEAR

Posted on by Glenn Helgeland

By Denny Geurink

  • Published by Target Communications Outdoor Books, LLC
  • Danger & Adventure Hunting Brown Bears in Russia’s Forbidding Siberia

IN THE LAND OF THE BEAR, by Denny Geurink, is an inside look at the excitement, mystery, danger and adventure of hunting huge, aggressive brown bears in Siberia and traveling in Russia from 1991 through 2011, a time of political turmoil when the Soviet Union was evolving into Russia.

In addition to hair-raising stories of lethal brown bear attacks on people and livestock, bears digging up coffins in cemeteries, bears invading camps, and brown and grizzly bear hunting in general, IN THE LAND OF THE BEAR contains historical perspective of what was happening politically at that time in Russia, detailing how the Siberian people lived, worked, survived … and how they viewed ordinary Americans — favorably.  Siberia is a long way from Moscow and politics.)

Geurink was the first American guide/outfitter to take clients to Siberia, the brown bear capital of the world. Nearly 70 percent of the world’s brown bear population is in Russia, with much of that in Siberia. Russia is a game rich country; few residents are allowed to own firearms. There is little hunting and game animals get the chance to grow bigger and older…and bring in needed cash flow to local economies.

IN THE LAND OF THE BEAR is an outdoor adventure book. Fascinating stories all, in 23 engrossing chapters, 284 pages, 6” x 9”, paperback, available at www.targetcommbooks.com  or on Amazon.

IN THE LAND OF THE BEAR — 23 CHAPTERS OF ADVENTURE

  1. Journey to the Evil Empire
  2. Hanging Out with the KGB
  3. Brown Bear Natural History
  4. Bear Attacks: Girl Calls to Say Goodbye as Bear Kills & Eats Her, Bear Drags Off Sleeping Bag and Man, Killer Bears
  5. The People
  6. The Food: Fish Bread, That’s Not Pasta, Moose Meat Surprise, Nothing Goes to Waste
  7. The Culture
  8. Surrounded by Bears
  9. A Lesson on Fear
  10. An Encounter with the WWF
  11. American Hunter Taken to Police Station
  12. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (hunters)
  13. Tales from Grizzly Camp
  14. If It Weren’t for Bad Luck
  15. Russian Bear Stalks U.S. Astronaut
  16. Excitement in Camp: The Russian Way of Dealing with Poachers, Bear in Camp, Bear in the Creek, Baby Snatchers
  17. Big Stags on The Black Sea
  18. Lady and the Bull
  19. The Capercaillie Two-Step
  20. Encounter with Rut-Crazed Bull Moose
  21. Bear Charges Snowmobile
  22. More Tales of Bear Attacks
  23. They’re All Heart and Determination

AUTHOR’S BIO — DENNIS GEURINK: Michigan native Denny Geurink has been a teacher (now retired) and was for several years the Midwest Regional Editor of Field & Stream magazine. He wrote a newspaper weekly outdoor column for nearly 40 years. He guided/outfitted in Siberia from 1992 through 2011, when he sold his outfitting business, then bought it back just recently because he couldn’t stay away.  He missed the adventure, the hunting, and the people he worked with in Siberia.

BACKGROUND INFO: In the early 1990s, the USSR wanted to boost its tourism industry and the revenue it would bring.  Hunters and fishermen usually aren’t at the head of any list of tourist invitees, but in 1991 the Soviet Union, working with a U.S.-based travel agency, looked primarily at the spectacular hunting and fishing opportunities in Siberia and invited Denny Geurink, a Michigan-based outdoor writer, on a moose and brown bear hunt. He had excellent success, but even more, enjoyed learning about and adapting to an unfamiliar culture and existence that he felt more-closely resembled the U. S. Wild West 150 to 175 years ago.

Geurink liked the total experience so much he became a hunting outfitter for Siberian brown bear (the largest, most aggressive in the world), grizzly bear and moose hunts, plus incidental hunts for bighorn/snow sheep, wild Russian boar (the largest in the world), with now and then a grouse or wolf hunt added. 

For nearly 25 years Geurink lived adventure with a capital A, enjoying every minute of the hunts, the people, the culture, the political discussions, the travel throughout Russia … and in the process developing strong attachments to the Siberian people and the land, sometimes staying for 90-day stretches to serve groups of hunting clients.  He has traveled there more than 50 times and continues to hunt Siberia annually.

 

Hunt SMART! Hunt SAFE! WEAR ORANGE

Posted on by NYS Dept. of Env. Conservation

With several more weeks of Big Game Season left to enjoy in New York State (and many other states), The NYS Department of Environmental Conservation reminds hunters to put safety–your own and others’–FIRST!

Check and abide by the legal hunting hours

Check New York’s official sunrise and sunset hours every time you go out hunting. They change every day and in different locations in New York State!

Watch DEC’s new video on hunting safely.

Firearm Safety Rules Save Lives

  • Assume every gun is loaded.
  • Control the muzzle. Point your gun in a safe direction.
  • Keep your finger off the trigger until you are ready to shoot.
  • Be sure you can clearly identify your target and be sure you can see what’s beyond your target.

Wear Hunter Orange

Did you know…

…More than 80 percent of big game hunters wear blaze orange?

…Hunters who wear blaze orange  are seven times less likely to be shot?

…Deer cannot tell blaze orange (or pink) from green?

Both hunters shown below (one wearing camo and the other wearing  orange) are invisible to deer if they don’t move. What would you want to be wearing if there were another hunter nearby with a deer between you?

WOMEN ICE ANGLER Project on the Move in Minnesota’s OTTER TAIL LAKE COUNTRY

Posted on by stoadmin
  • Women Empowered to FISH ON ICE
  • Women Anglers Encouraged TO POST ICE FISHING PIX at #WOMENONICE
  • Women Ice Angler OUTREACH PROGRAM – Skill Development, see details

Otter Tail County, MN – Nov. 8, 2017: The Women Ice Angler Project (WIAP #womenonice) will be on the move in 2018—literally. The fourth year of #womenonice will focus on moving from lake-to-lake in Otter Tail Lakes Country (Otter Tail County, Minnesota) highlighting the ease of mobility and moving from spot to spot. Otter Tail Lakes Country Association (OTLCA) and East Silent Lake Resort will host the media event along with Clam Outdoors.

Otter County is unique in that it boasts more than 1,000 lakes inside county borders. Communities include Perham, Fergus Falls and Pelican Rapids to name a few. The largest lakes include Otter Tail, Dead Lake, Rush Lake, Big Pine Lake and Pelican.

The ladies will fish for generous-sized panfish including sunfish, bluegills and crappies, as well as nice eater-size walleyes. “The ladies might not catch a personal best walleye here, but they have a chance at landing some trophy-sized panfish. This is a panfish paradise,” said Erik Osberg, Rural Rebound Initiative Coordinator for Otter Tail County.

Several media/video partners will follow the “ladies-on-the-ice” for video production and TV shows, including Larry Smith Outdoors, Grass Fed and Outdoors First Media. “We’ve seen our media coverage grow, and we enjoy interacting within the communities when we arrive onsite,” said founder of WI Women Fish and the Women Ice Angler Project, Barb Carey. “While it isn’t a done deal yet, we have a huge media partner finalizing their plans to follow us as well. This initiative to showcase and empower women to ice fish has really gained momentum.”

A community-wide “Meet & Greet” is in the planning stages and will include helpful tips on preparing fish.

In addition to Carey, the following ladies will fish in #womenonice this year, pro-staff anglers:

  • Shelly Holland
  • Bonnie Timm
  • Shantel Wittstruck
  • Rikki Pardun
  • Outdoor Photographer: Hannah Stonehouse Hudson
  • Outdoor Writer: Kristine (K.J.) Houtman.

The goal of the Women Ice Angler Project is to encourage women to try ice fishing, as well as mentor those who already enjoy it and want to improve their skills. An additional plus has been moving the industry forward to show women ice anglers in corporate marketing efforts and social media.

“We don’t underestimate the skill level of women ice anglers,” Barb Carey said. “Sure, we’re happy to introduce some new participants, but there are many women who want to grow in their skills and our powerful group of gals can help them do just that.”

Award-winning outdoor photographer Hannah Stonehouse Hudson (Stonehouse Photography, http://stonehousephotoblog.com/) is a big part of the success of WIAP. “The colder it is, the happier I am,” Hudson said about her photography. “The light is incredible when it’s really cold and I love it.” WIAP photos can be found in retail stores, on product packaging, in corporate catalogs as well as throughout tourism and ice-fishing social media.

For the entire winter, all women anglers are encouraged to post their ice fishing photos and share their stories with #womenonice and follow theiceangler.com. “Our sponsors are totally behind the message women can and do enjoy this great sport,” Carey concluded.

The Women Ice Angler Project sponsors include Clam Outdoors, Outdoor First Media, Larry Smith Outdoors, The Great Wild Radio Show, Fish On Kids Books, Stonehouse Photography, WI Women Fish, East Silent Lake Resort of Dent, Minn. and Otter Tail Lakes Country Association.

Contact Barb Carey for more information at icefishher@gmail.com or call 608-692-7386.

HENRY REPEATING ARMS Helps Raise Over $70,000 for Sick 14-Year-Old Volunteer Firefighter

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • Henry Repeating Arms Donates 54 Custom-Designed Octagon Barrel Firearms to Help Cause
  • Special Edition Bids, Open to Public…Bid on GunBroker.com, item #705771173
Joe Petrucelli (L), Owner of Tri-County Sporting Goods, presenting check for $70,000 to Joshua Brennan and his family (C) with Anthony Imperato (R), President of Henry Repeating Arms.

BAYONNE, NJ, October 9, 2017– Henry Repeating Arms of Bayonne, NJ, and Rice Lake, WI, designed 54 SPECIAL EDITION custom .22 caliber Henry Lever Action Octagon barrel rifles to help raise funds for 14-year-old Joshua Brennan of New York.  Joshua was diagnosed with Hypoplastic Left-Heart Syndrome before he was even born.

The first 24 of these rifles were donated directly to the Firemen for Joshua Foundation, a 510(c)(3) organization, the remaining 30 were purchased by Joe Petrucelli of Tri-County Sporting Goods.  Petrucelli then organized further fundraising efforts to benefit the charitable foundation formed in Joshua’s name.

For the past few years Joshua has served the emergency service community by volunteering at the Pawling Fire Department in Dutchess County.  While he is too young to fight fires, he is a critical member of the Pawling Fire Department.

Washing trucks, keeping the firehouse in good order, lending a helping hand in the kitchen, and attending special events are just some of the tasks that Joshua tends to.  Joshua’s efforts all stem from his love for the department and his call to volunteerism instilled in him by his father Tom, who is also a volunteer firefighter.

Joshua Brennan suffered heart failure last year and surgery provided a pacemaker and two valves to keep him alive.  Joshua now needs a heart transplant.

In 2014, a similar partnership between Henry Repeating Arms and Tri-County Sporting Goods raised over $60,000 for 4-year-old Grayson Sutton of Sedan, KS, who was battling Primary Pulmonary Hypertension and facing a series of costly surgeries.

President of Henry Repeating Arms, Anthony Imperato explains, “Tri-County Sporting Goods has always stepped up to the plate to help Henry with any of our “Guns for Great Causes” program initiatives. When they told me about this great young man, Joshua…and his battle, we instantly decided to reciprocate.”

The 54 special edition rifles are currently being sold through Tri-County Sporting Goods in Patterson, NY, and all proceeds are going to benefit the Firemen for Joshua Foundation, which goes directly to Joshua and his family.

Petrucelli organized Firemen for Joshua Day at Tri-County Sporting Goods on September 30th where over 200 people from the local community came together to show their support.  Joshua was nominated for the Make-A-Wish Foundation, and he and his family were presented with a $70,000 check from the proceeds of the rifles sold to date along with donations from local businesses. Proceeds are expected to raise over $100,000 before the end of the year.

Serial number “JOSHUA001,” the first of 54 made is currently up for auction on GunBroker.com, item #705771173.

Tri-County Sporting Goods will continue to sell the Firemen for Joshua rifles while supplies last, as well as custom serial numbered Henry Heirloom rifles. Proceeds from these sales will continue to fund the Firemen for Joshua foundation.  To purchase one of these rifles contact Joe Petrucelli at (845) 878-6084. General donations are being accepted here: https://www.gofundme.com/firemen-for-joshua.

 

Ecstasy & Empathy: Dichotomy of Hunting

Posted on by Jim Low

Killing two young turkeys and watching a mother hen’s reaction to their loss set the writer to thinking about the nature of hunting.  Jim Low Photo

  • If hunting doesn’t occasionally tug at your heartstrings, you might need to think a bit more deeply about it.
  • Far from threatening the natural world, hunting is its best hope for survival.
  • Turkeys share a sacred lesson about Hunting, Kindred Spirits, the Circle of Life

By Jim Low

One of the reasons I love hunting is the way it takes me inside the natural world.

Blood sports make me part of natural processes in ways that are unavailable through nature photography, nature study and other “non-consumptive” activities, which I also enjoy.  Opening day of fall firearms turkey season this year made me keenly aware of this difference.

Dawn found me tucked beneath the screening branches of cedar trees between two pastures.  Just at sunrise, I heard soft clucks issuing from the bordering woods.  I made a few “sleepy yelps” on my slate call, then put it aside and rested my shotgun on my knee.

My pulse rate ticked up a few beats.

Moments later, a young turkey glided down and landed directly in front of me, in easy shotgun range.  It was followed in quick succession by six more poults (turkeys hatched this year) and one hen.

Any turkey, young or old, male or female, is legal during Missouri’s fall hunting season.  I had wanted to shoot a gobbler, but now I began thinking otherwise.  I am a mediocre fall turkey hunter at best, so this was a rare opportunity to harvest the centerpiece of Thanksgiving dinner.

Also, the fact that you can shoot two turkeys on the same day in the fall season meant I might be able to kill two tender young birds that would be amazing table fare.  So, when two of the small birds stood with their heads inches apart, I dropped the hammer, and both went down.

Hunting turkeys in the fall opens the door to a whole different set of insights into the complicated lives of these amazing birds.  Jim Low Photo

As often happens, the remaining six birds did not scatter immediately.  Inexperienced and bewildered by a thunderclap out of a clear sky, they milled around excitedly, stopping occasionally to gawk at their stricken flock-mates.  I lowered my gun slowly and settled in to watch, expecting the survivors to vacate the premises fairly quickly.

Moments after my shot, a mature hen came on the run from the west, near the center of the pasture.

This open area, unapproachable by predators without being spotted, is where a cautious old bird would fly down.  In the flurry of arrivals in front of me, I hadn’t noticed her leaving the roost.

The old hen quickly made her way to the two downed birds, which were in their final death throes.  She watched until their struggles ceased, then began pecking them gently, first one and then the other.  After a few minutes, she began grasping their wattles in her beak and lifting their heads, then dropping them.  This went on for quite a while, gradually escalating to her taking a step or two backward and tugging at the dead poults.

After this had gone on for perhaps half an hour, she stepped over one of the dead poults, spread her wings and settled down as if brooding a clutch of eggs.  After a brief interval, she arose and did the same thing to the other downed bird.

This dispelled any doubt in my mind that all the hen’s actions were an effort to revive the lifeless poults.

Turkey broods in the fall hang close together and they watch out for each other, sounding the “time to go” call when danger appears to be near. Joe Forma Photo

This was a revelation to me.

Such maternal devotion would not have been surprising in a mammal, but I never expected it from a bird.  During the hen’s ministrations, the rest of the flock made repeated moves to leave, led by another hen.  They would drift away a few yards before looking back to see if the devoted mother was following.  Seeing that she wasn’t, the flock would drift back for a while, but as time went on, the flock’s tentative departures took them farther and farther away.

Finally, drawn by the pull of her flock, the mother hen began her own series of departures and returns.  An hour or so after the fateful shot, she finally abandoned the dead poults and followed the flock out of sight.

For many years, I resisted the urge to attribute human-like behavior to other animals.  Anthropomorphizing wildlife is frowned upon by many biologists and hunters, but well after over half-century of watching quadrupeds, including dogs, I am forced to conclude that “lower” animals share a great deal – perhaps most of human emotional responses.

I don’t know what went on in the brains of that mother hen and her companions, but it’s difficult for me to attribute it to mere instinct.  For that matter, who’s to say that human emotions aren’t instinctive?

This line of reasoning might raise the hackles of some hunters who refuse to concede anything to people whose empathy leads them to eschew or even disapprove of hunting.  But, it seems to me that if we are willing to take the lives of animals, we ought to be willing to think critically about it.

For me, the notion that turkeys and other game animals experience grief and other human-like emotions is not a reason to stop hunting.

All animals, human and nonhuman alike, take life and have it taken from them.

Turkeys eat grasshoppers and lizards.

Deer kill one another and have been photographed eating small mammals.

Strict herbivores kill plants.

Modern-day humans seldom fall victim to predators, but it matters little whether you die in the jaws of a grizzly bear or in the grip of Streptococcus pneumoniea.

Either way, you are dead at the “hands” of something that wants to eat you.

The predator-prey relationship between humans and game animals is as old as our respective species.  They, and we, are intricately adapted for the fateful dance we share.  The predatory urge encoded in human DNA is why many of us still feel a powerful pull to re-enact the timeless drama of the chase.  It reminds us of what we have been and what we remain as, at a very deep level.  And it can tell us much about why we are how we are.

Hunters since time immemorial have felt deep connections to the animals they pursue.

This connection goes deeper than nutritional necessity.

Our hunting forebears saw game in the same light that I saw those turkey poults and their devoted hen.  They saw kindred spirits, worthy of respect and empathy, worthy of immortalizing on cave walls.  They knew themselves to be integral parts of the pulsing, exultant, poignant pageant of life.

Hunting allows us to maintain that intimate connection to the natural world. 

Hunting allows us to maintain that intimate and sacred connection to the natural world, it binds us to the circle of life.  Joe Forma Photo

Without it, we risk thinking ourselves above and outside the circle of life.  We could fail to recall our connection to the natural world at our own peril as a species.

It is no mere coincidence that hunters are, and always have been, the beating heart of the conservation movement.  We don’t only do it simply to ensure the availability of living targets or merely because we like killing things.

As the Spanish philosopher Jose Ortega y Gasset observed, modern humans do not hunt to kill.  We no longer need to pursue game to sustain life.  Rather, we kill in order to have hunted, to maintain an authentic and utterly irreplaceable connection to the natural world.

My exultation in a successful turkey hunt was tinged, as it ought to be, with reflection about what it means to take a life.

I wonder how often nonhunters give similar consideration to the deaths they farm out to others.

In spite of the pang it sometimes gives me, I am more than proud of my hunting.  I see in it the best hope for the future of things “natural, wild and free.”

-end-

Wonders of Wildlife NOW OPEN, An Amazing Adventure into the WORLD of WILDLIFE

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • Wonders of Wildlife provides Tribute to Fish and Wildlife
  • Wonders of Wildlife NATIONAL MUSEUM & AQUARIUM is Extraordinary
  • Founder, Johnny Morris, Has Provided a Trail to Lifelong Conservation in the Outdoors through Fishing, Bass Pro Shops and now, WONDERS OF WILDLIFE
  • Rick Clunn will Attend

By Forrest Fisher

Wonders of Wildlife National Museum and Aquarium Opens Sep. 20, 2017 – An Extraordinary Experience! 

One of the most respected professional bass anglers in the world is Rick Clunn.  I was humbled to fish with Rick on three different fishing tournament occasions in the mid-90s.  Having done that, It was easy to understand why this southern gentleman was such a successful angler. 

In one word, Rick Clunn has “FOCUS” when he is fishing.  He “TUNES-IN” to every spot, every situation, every cast.  His success as a 5-time BASS Champion demonstrates his “UNDERSTANDING” for fishing.  Above all his fishing success, Rick Clunn is humble, soft-spoken and a true conservationist.   Today Rick will be in Springfield, Missouri, and he has this to share with everyone through his Facebook account:  

Rick Clunn is humble, successful and a role model for all anglers – he will be on hand today at the grand opening.  Rick Clunn Feature Photo

“Melissa and I will be privileged to attend the Grand Opening of the Wonders of Wildlife.  I am sure, like everything Johnny Morris has created, it will defy even the most complimentary descriptions possible.  I made the statement after winning the B.A.S.S. St. John’s River Tournament, “Never accept that all your greatest moments are in the past.”  This man has lived that philosophy his whole life and continues to.  Most will see and be inspired by the Wonders of Wildlife, but I fear there are some who will see it as only a capitalistic venture or a monument to an individual’s ego.

For those of you who might feel that way, I offer my observations and understanding.  I present this view because I cannot tell you how many times I have heard people ask, “Why does he build these museum style stores to sell fishing tackle? Why not be like others in the industry and just put up a metal building and have a lot less overhead?”

I will tell you, to me these are monuments, but not to Johnny Morris! These are monuments to all outdoors people and to the Natural World that he continuously and tirelessly fights for.  At Big Cedar Lodge on Table Rock Lake, there is a Convention Center whose walls are lined with some of the greatest conservation mind’s, thoughts and quotes.  If you think the many Bass Pro Outdoor Worlds are only about selling fishing and hunting tackle I offer the following: “If I fished only to capture fish, my fishing trips would have ended long ago.” Zane Grey.”

I grew up an Angler when being an Angler was observed as nothing more than playing hooky from school or work.  It did not share the status of football, basketball, golf, or other sports.  One of my supervisors at Exxon Oil would talk with you about golf all day, but don’t dare waste company time talking about fishing.  Even after I quit my socially excepted profession, working for the 2nd largest computing center in the world, and started my angling career most thought I had a bad case of sun stroke.  I confess, I will never forget the first time I was proud to be an Angler.  I had gone to Springfield, Missouri, to represent one of my sponsors at the grand-daddy of all fishing stores, at their Spring Fishing Classic.  I had been in a lot of tackle fishing shops, but nothing could have prepared me for this.  When I walked in the front door of the Bass Pro Shop Outdoor World, I was moved.  It was beautiful and I had never seen anything like it.  But more than its beauty, I felt a sense of pride in who I was that I had not felt before.  To this day I challenge every outdoor person to tell me that they did not feel a little of the same, their first time there.  I now know that Johnny saw the Outdoors – and those who enjoy it, as important elements in the conservation of the fast disappearance of our natural world.

“Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.” Henry David Thoreau.

I recognize now, like Johnny did from the beginning, that to conserve the natural world we have to expose as many people to its Wonders as possible.  He knew that fishing is one of the last remaining vehicles for the masses to experience the natural world and understand its importance to the sanity of man’s world.  Johnny’s Conservation efforts are never ending.  So when you tour the Wonders of Wildlife, remember the words of Theodore Roosevelt, “There can be no greater issue than that of conservation in this country.”

Please stay tuned to the Wonders of Wildlife Facebook account for Live streams Sept 20th www.facebook.com/wondersofwildlife. 

Events start at 3:00 PM the 20th. #WondersofWildlife.

Hope to see you there soon.

 

NRA’s Eddie Eagle GunSafe® Program Reaches 30 Million Children

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
This simple Eddie Eagle GunSafe® lesson can save a child’s life.  From the NRA, please PASS IT ON! Courtesy www.EddieEagle.com

FAIRFAX, Va. – The Eddie Eagle GunSafe® Program, NRA’s groundbreaking gun accident prevention course for children, has achieved another milestone by reaching its 30 millionth child.

Created in 1988 by past NRA President Marion P. Hammer, in consultation with elementary school teachers, law enforcement officers and child psychologists, the program provides pre-K through fourth grade children with simple, effective rules to follow should they encounter a firearm in an unsupervised setting: “If you see a gun: STOP! Don’t Touch. Run Away. Tell a Grown-Up.”

Volunteers for the Eddie Eagle program come from diverse backgrounds, but they share a commitment to keeping children safe. Those involved include NRA members, teachers, law enforcement officers and community activists who teach the program, as well as private donors and Friends of NRA volunteers who raise funds to provide the program’s educational materials.

More than 26,000 educators, law enforcement agencies, and civic organizations have taught the program since 1988. According to the National Center for Health Statistics, incidental firearm-related deaths among children in Eddie Eagle’s targeted age group have declined more than 80 percent since the program’s launch.

The Eddie Eagle program has been praised by numerous groups and elected officials, including the Association of American Educators, the Youth Activities Division of the National Safety Council, the National Sheriffs’ Association, the U.S. Department of Justice (through its Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency), and 26 state governors.

Law enforcement partnerships with Eddie Eagle have proven to be very effective. In fact, almost 400 Eddie Eagle mascot costumes are in use by law enforcement officers across the county. NRA also offers free Eddie Eagle materials to any law enforcement agency, educational facility, hospital, or library across the nation.

Funds raised through Friends of NRA and distributed through The NRA Foundation enable schools and police departments to teach the program at little or no cost. The NRA encourages citizens nationwide to participate in heightening gun accident prevention awareness within their local communities.

Schools, law enforcement agencies, civic groups, and others interested in more information about The Eddie Eagle GunSafe® Program, or persons who wish to see if free materials are available in their communities, should email the NRA Community Outreach Department at eddie@nrahq.org or visit www.eddieeagle.com.

About the National Rifle Association: Established in 1871, the National Rifle Association is America’s oldest civil rights and sportsmen’s group. Five million members strong, NRA continues its mission to uphold Second Amendment rights and is the leader in firearm education and training for law-abiding gun owners, law enforcement and the military. Visit http://www.nra.org.

Children in the Stream Youth Fly Fishing Program

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • Free for Kids 10 to 110 Years of Age
  • No Experience necessary
  • Classes Conducted at State University of NY at Fredonia

The Children in the Stream Youth Fly Fishing Program will be starting its eighteenth year of providing weekly free fly tying and fly fishing classes to youth and adults in the western New York region.  The classes will be presented every Tuesday starting August 29, 2017, from 7-8:30 pm at the Costello Community Room (P84) in the new addition to Rockefeller Arts Center at SUNY Fredonia, in Fredonia, NY.

No prior experience is needed and all classes are free. Classes are appropriate for anyone between 10 and 110.

In 1998, Alberto Rey and Mike Conley attended Sportfishing and Aquatic Resource Educational Programming (S.A.R.E.P.) through the Cornell Cooperative. The seminars provided training for teachers and future instructors who would provide educational conservation experiences to children. Shortly afterwards, S.A.R.E.P. Youth Fly Fishing Program was founded after a grant was received from Chautauqua County Industrial Development Agency.  The program has continued to grow over the years as enrollment has steadily increased and as the program has provided new services to the community. In 2016, S.A.R.E.P. /4H Youth Fly Fishing Program’s name was changed to Children in the Stream/4H Program.

Children in the Stream is an educational program that provides children with information and experiences related to aquatic resources, conservation, ethics, and fly fishing. Fly fishing has a long history of integrating these elements into the core of the sport. The ethics of the program promotes “catch and release” as well as respect for fellow fisherman and the land on which one fishes. It is our goal to protect the species and the land for future generations. Our program closely ties together the importance of understanding nature with the rewarding act of fly fishing.

Children in the Stream is a volunteer organization that relies on the generosity of the fly fishing industry and of public and private donors. It provides programming to the Boys and Girls Club of Northern Chautauqua County and to middle and high schools in the area. Children in the Stream provides workshops to an average of 350 children a year.

Here are the elements of the program: Weekly Fly Tying and Rod Building Sessions Monthly Fly Fishing Field Trips Canadaway Creek Conservation Project Conservation Days Workshops  Brook Trout Restoration Project Children in the Stream Conference: An Interdisciplinary Fly Fishing Conference

For more information on our efforts you can look at this episode by a national television show, Aqua Kids, who documents the Children in the Stream’s Canadaway Creek Conservation Program and Brook Trout Restoration Program. Here’s are also some recent articles and blogs written about the program and the Children in the Stream Conference; http://buffalonews.com/2016/11/17/bill-hilts-jr-fly-fishing-program-gets-anglers-ages-involved/ http://www.buffalonews.com/sports/outdoors/will-elliott-helping-fly-fishing-take-flight-20150321 http://www.fishhound.com/blog/bringing-brook-trout-back-great-lakes http://www.fishhound.com/blog/when-you-live-and-love-fishing-possible http://www.orvisnews.com/FlyFishing/Children-in-the-Stream-Conference.aspx http://www.orvisnews.com/FlyFishing/Children-in-the-Stream-Conference-a-Success.aspx http://www.flyfishergirl.com/

You can also see recent pictures, movies and information from our recent projects in the blog section of this site. For more information about our home waters, check out our our history of Canadaway Creek link.

If you would like more information on the program please contact me Alberto Rey here or at alberto@albertorey.com or by calling 716-410-7003.

Voyage of Boatylicious Discovery

Posted on by Jim Low
  • Missouri River 340, this ain’t no mama’s boy kayak float trip.
  • You don’t have to go to Alaska or Mt.  Kilimanjaro for an authentic outdoor adventure.
  • What you learn about extreme sports will pale in comparison to what you learn about yourself.
  • This year, the event will run August 8-11, 2017.
Kansas City’s skyline is visible from Kaw Point at the mouth of the Kansas River, where the MR340 starts.

By Jim Low

Missourians who wonder if they have the physical and mental toughness necessary to be extreme athletes don’t have to go far to find out.  They can test their mettle against a force of nature…the Missouri River.

In 2006, Scott Mansker and Russ Payzant, self-avowed “river rats,” decided to organize a paddle race to raise awareness of the world-class, but then little-known, recreational opportunities on the Big Muddy.  What they came up with was a nonstop ultra-marathon race from Kansas City to St.  Charles.  The distance between those two points – 340 miles – provided a name for the event, the Missouri River 340 (insiders generally shorten the name to MR340 or simply, “The 340”).  That first year, the event drew 11 solo paddlers and five tandem teams.  They were given 100 hours – a little more than two days – to finish the course.

Today, paddlers are allowed only 88 hours to finish the course.  They paddle so hard that the friction of their shirts causes their nipples to bleed, a distraction that veterans avoid with duct tape pasties.  The skin of their palms sloughs off in enormous blisters…more duct tape.

Packed like sardines at the start, paddlers soon are strung out over the Big Muddy’s vastness.

They endure the heat and humidity of August.

They risk literally being blown off the river by tornadoes or microbursts.

But if you think these obstacles cool the ardor of potential participants, you don’t understand the mindset of ultramarathoners.  Within days of wrapping up the inaugural Missouri River 340, Mansker and Payzant’s electronic in-boxes were flooded with email from paddlers eager to sign up for the next year’s race.

Participation ballooned so rapidly that they were forced to limit entries.   By early June of this year, nearly 500 individuals and teams had signed up for the race.  They will come from all over the United States and as far away as Japan to compete in 11 divisions: Women’s and Men’s Solo; Women’s, Men’s and Mixed Tandem; Solo Pedal Drive; Tandem Pedal Drive; Team (3-4 paddlers); Voyageur (5 to 10 paddlers); Dragon Boat (11-plus paddlers); and SUP (Stand Up Paddler.)

Spectators turn up at checkpoints to keep tabs on their favorite paddlers.

Last year’s top time – an astonishing 38 hours, 22 minutes – was posted by a six-woman team calling themselves “Boatylicious.”  The next four entrants to reach St.  Charles were all solo paddlers, three men and one woman.  All made the grueling paddle in under 45 hours.  That’s an average of more than 7.5 mph, including time to eat, drink and nap.

Napping is a must.  Even if you do, you stand a good chance of experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations, especially at night.  The 340 is scheduled to take advantage of a full moon, but phantom voices and spectral presences are a common experience in the profound darkness and calm that prevails between sunset and moonrise.  These can get you in trouble if you pay more attention to them than you do to what’s actually there.

Things like wing dikes, buoys, bridge pilings and barges.  While paddling at night in the 2007 MR 340, a mixed tandem team – ages 66 and 70 – misjudged the distance of an approaching barge and were plowed under when they tried to cross the river in front of it.  While their $5,500 kayak was being chopped to bits, the couple desperately clawed their way along the bottom of the barge’s hull, trying to avoid their boat’s fate.  Astonishingly, both paddlers emerged with only scrapes and bruises and were rescued by the barge crew.

“The 340” becomes a permanent part of some participants.

Racers are not entirely on their own.  A fleet of safety boats patrols the pack, checking on paddlers’ health, handing out sport drinks, helping in emergencies and – inevitably – picking up contestants who are simply played out.

Bringing up the rear is a safety boat known as “The Reaper.” Their job is to collect paddlers who fail to reach each mandatory check-in point in the pre-determined time necessary to have even a remote chance of finishing the race.  Slow, but dogged, paddlers dread the appearance of “The Reaper” the way that schoolchildren dread the end of summer.  But without this measure, the pack would become too strung out for safe supervision.

There are no adversaries at the finish line.

All this combines to produce epic stories: the cancer survivor who began training for the race while still undergoing chemotherapy; the alcoholic who set out to prove something to others and instead found the inner strength to overcome her physical and mental demons; world-class athletes who push themselves far beyond normal limits of human endurance and ordinary people who perform extraordinary feats.

It’s no surprise then that thousands of spectators turn out to witness the spectacle.  The biggest crowds gather at both, the starting point at the mouth of the Kansas River, and the finish line at St.  Charles’ Frontier Park.  But people also throng to the mandatory check-in points scattered along the course.  Ground-support crews mingle with relatives of racers, news media and curiosity seekers.  Highway bridges with pedestrian walks are favorite vantage points for gawkers and photographers.

If you want to get in on the fun, either as a participant or a tourist, visit rivermiles.com/mr340/ for details of this year’s event.  You also can follow the progress of the race Aug. 8-11 through posts on the MR340 forum, rivermiles.com/forum/YaBB.pl.

“Sunny Day Kids” are HOOKED ON FISHING FUN!

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • Fishing & Learning Adventure on the Buffalo River
  • May 28, 2017; Bison City Rod & Gun Club, Buffalo, N.Y.
  • 141 Kids, 322 Total Attendance; 21 Volunteers; 8-Learning Stations
There is something very special about that first fish!  Kids and parents found adventure and fun while learning about rods, reels, bobbers and fish-catching at Bison City Rod & Gun Club in Buffalo, NY. 

By Forrest Fisher

The forecast for rain and fog was swept aside when bright, sunny skies with a gentle 75 degree breeze surprised families with kids from Buffalo and Western New York.  They came to fish and learn at Bison City Rod & Gun Club for the 13th Annual Jimmy Griffin Memorial Teach-Me-To-Fish event.

Each youth carried a personal registration card with their first name, last initial and age. When the kids achieved learning at each station, the station captain would hole punch the card, when all the stations were completed, the youth was eligible to drop the card into the raffle hopper for one of 76 free rod/reel rigs.

Once a polluted waterway that would burn from the heat of a lighted match, today the Buffalo River waterfront is clean, alive, and hopping with fish, kayaks, canoes and kids with fishing poles.  The Buffalo-Niagara Riverkeeper Group is a big part of the clean-up progress.

The kids and their families all learned a bit more about the adventure of the outdoors through the fun of fishing, many for the very first time!

While the river was running a bit muddy from recent heavy rains, the steady flow of riverfront kayakers, sailboats, canoes and power boats showed proof that water color is not a deterrent.  Kids fishing from the Bison City fishing pier were busy.  Even single adults without kids came to discover the fun and adventure of “how-to-fish”.  More and more people want to know.

Lynda Kollar, Rose Barus and Linda Cooley energized a positive first-moment connection with folks at the registration welcome station.

Inner city kids and parent, guardians and many others discovered the fun of fishing with the Buffalo city skyline in full view. 

Kids and parents learned “How-To-Fish” and what to do from Western New York bass pro, Scott Gauld, who took time to share “easy tips” for everyone in the program.  He explained that catching a fish with a rod and reel (bait or artificial lure) is not only possible, it is fun and not difficult.  Gauld provided that special seal of “sure-fun is right around the corner” that only a professional angler might be able to influence for new onlookers.  Kids went away looking for the fishing pier!

Marine Unit 2 with Erie County Sheriff Tim Dusza and his team, provided tours of their vessel.  Everyone learned about water-safety, kids were allowed to blow the horn and turn on the flashing lights. Big smiles there!

Russ Johnson and Bob Carlson, members of the East Aurora Fish & Game Club, who have perfected the system for educating kids and parents on how to tie a perfect Palomar Knot and Clinch Knot, taught everyone how to tie on a hook in only a few seconds.  

Rigging a weedless plastic bait, a plastic worm or jig tail, was made easy with a hands-on demonstration by junior Bassmasters Alex Gauld and Collin Voss, as they provided each youth with a souvenir plastic creature bait sample from Cabela’s.  The kids could use the bait to fish with or take home.  The girls seemed to pick the pink squiggly-tail crayfish!

Environmental Conservation Officer, Jeff Jondel, and firearm safety instructor, Joe Mills, provided hands-on firearm safety training.  They shared the rules of responsibility for parents and kids, so they could experience the Cabela’s BB-Gun Range, an inflated and fully enclosed, fully safe, “bounce house” style event.  The NRA safety-instructors provided easy 1, 2, 3 steps for responsible use of a firearm, using a BB-gun.  Kids and parents took turns checking their aim using Daisy Red Ryder BB-Guns, shooting at suspended souvenir paper targets.  Happy kids took their targets home with ear-to-ear smiles as souvenirs.

Lifetime youth educator and certified New York State Archery champion, Paul Stoos, worked with Earl Farrel, Sr., to provide first-time how-to lessons for kids at the Cabela’s Archery Booth, using air-suspended floating ball targets.  

Charter Captain Jerry May and walleye master, Ted Malota, taught kids how to cast a spincast fishing rod with hookless casting baits.  The kids were sailing their lines a very long way toward hula-hoop targets in just minutes.  Ted shared, “Wow, some of these kids are really good with so little practice!”  Fun for all!

The kids and adults fished from “George’s Landing,” the legacy honor name for the Bison City fishing pier.  It was a fun and exciting adventure station for kids, even more exciting for some parents who had never touched a live fish before. On-site fishing educator, Dave Solowski, provided eager kids with bait, pre-rigged rods, reels, bobbers, hooks, split-shot and plenty of nightcrawler bait supplied by Weekley’s Worms.  Weekly’s Worms provides more than 50 million redworms and nightcrawlers to anglers every year.  Imagine that!

Dockside outfitter, Donna Kayes, provided solid “pre-fish confidence” while outfitting each youth with a life-preserver before entering the fishing pier area.  Several first-fish catches were recorded, with new adventure and fun had by all. The fish were placed in the aerated “Lunker Pool” and released by the kids after the event.  Kids that did not catch a fish enjoyed seeing the swimming fish that others caught. After the event, the kids helped release all the fish to swim another day, a meaningful lesson in conservation for our youth.

Lyme disease is a serious killer of healthy fun and life. “It starts with deer ticks,” says instructor, Sheri Voss, as she uses dolls and explains details  to stay safe in a manner that little kids and their parents can understand. 

At the newest learning station, “OUTDOOR AWARENESS,” outdoor educator, Sheri Voss, provided hands-on lessons for families with advice on how to stay prepared, protected, informed and proactive, whenever they head outdoors.  There was special focus on deer ticks and the Lyme disease outbreak in northeast USA.

As families completed the learning station tours, a 70-page slide show was shown on the 7-foot screen indoors, allowing for continued fishing and outdoor adventure education.  While observing the screen, the kitchen crew provided world famous Sahlen’s grill-cooked hot dogs, Perry’s Ice Cream, Paula’s Donuts, Gwen Jozwiak’s hand-made “fish cupcakes,” beverages and other munchies.

During the random gear raffle, 76 happy youths won a free rod/reel combo.  Everyone else, adults too, took home fishing maps, tackle, and special prizes from the “Bison City Tackle Treasure Chest.”

The kids and the adults were all BIG WINNERS!

This special youth outreach event is annual event sponsored and coordinated by the Bison City Rod & Gun Club with special thanks to Ted and Doraine Malota, Cabela’s, Erie County Federation of Sportsmen, WNY Safari Club, Sahlen’s Meat Packing, the Norby Antonik Foundation, Weekley’s Bait, Paula’s Donuts and 21 dedicated volunteers who donated their time to help youth and their families learn more about the outdoors through the fun of fishing!  

Gurgle, Babble & Slurp – the Welcome Language of a Reborn Trout Stream

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

By Forrest Fisher

Chuck Swanderski, a member of the Doc Fritchey Trout Unlimited Chapter, volunteers his time to teach youngsters and oldsters about the fun of fly fishing. Forrest Fisher Photo

Fly fishing for trout is a new adventure for fishermen more familiar with trolling for Great Lakes walleye or casting for tournament bass.  That makes it a new adventure for yours truly.

The new unfamiliar tool? A lightweight fly rod about eight-feet in length with a single-action reel that holds a heavy-looking fluorescent color “fly line” with a long, fine, clear leader tied to the end.     

We were fishing Quittapahilla Creek, a small stream in Lebanon County, Pennsylvania (near the candy-making city of Hershey), known locally as the “Quittie,” and my mentor for the day, Chuck Swanderski, a member of the Doc Fritchey Trout Unlimited Chapter, shared some of the history of this waterway. 

For newcomers to fly fishing, the choices are many, including dry flies, wet flies, streamers and nymphs. Forrest Fisher Photo

The creek starts as a clear, clean, upward bubbling spring, just a few miles upstream from where we were standing.  Problem was that it had become an industrial waste discharge outlet for 80 years ending just after WWII.  At that time, the stream was dead with little aquatic life and no fish.  From WWII until about 1990, the area had become a waste dump when concerned citizens started a clean-up with organized angler groups.  They petitioned for grant monies and project funding from state and federal sources, and got them. 

Tying a 2-fly rig is simple with the right instruction, as the first fly is tied normally, the second fly is attached by a short 12-inch leader to the curved shank of the first fly. Forrest Fisher Photo

Trout Unlimited assisted with the hard work and planning efforts, providing manpower for stream improvement that included invasive plant removal, stream clean-up, riparian buffer tree plantings, bank retainer netting, in-stream boulder structure placement and habitat construction, cedar chip trails (anti-deer tick), safety-minded access, parking areas, stream stocking and harvest monitoring.  And more.

The downstream areas of the riffles created from water flow over the in-stream boulder placements become highly oxygenated, providing preferred comfort zones for oxygen-seeking trout.  They are also preferred areas for anglers to ply their skills with fly presentations.

The 2-fly rig is effective when aquatic insects are present in healthy streambeds and are drifting along in the current. Forrest Fisher Photo

For this day, Chuck provided me with an intro to learning on-stream etiquette and made it a fun adventure for yours truly.  He supplied details about the usual “how to do” things with the nearly weightless feathered hooks.  It might have been a sort of day-long ordeal for Chuck, but I think we had some great fun. 

We shared conversations, we laughed, and we joked about modern life, mostly comparing it to ancient life in America five decades ago when we were kids.  Lots to compare with 27 cent gas and Dick Tracy wristwatches from back then.  Beam me up Scotty.  We’re almost there!

It is humbling to watch a skilled fly angler cast a nearly weightless fly with so little effort.  Chuck was VERY good.  With a curious and watchful eye, it is easy to see that there is an artful rhythm to the whisper of the unassuming fly line soaring gently overhead to land so softly in a riffle 40 feet upstream.  No sound, no vigor, just a small feathery sample of barbless food for a hungry trout. 

This home-made streamer from Neshannock Creek Fly Shop caught several fish for us when the 2-fly rig only drew followers.

As I listened to Chuck direct my ability to make unfettered motion with a 50-year old Fenwick “gold series” fiberglass fly rod and fly, I forgot about all of the many issues on my mind.  Paying bills, story deadlines, emails to answer, calls to make and the ever-growing to-do list for around the house back home in East Aurora, New York, five hours north.  They all disappeared during these few hours of on-stream renewal.  I was developing something I had only heard about from other fly rod anglers, a kinship with the natural world of a water flow and feathered, fuzzy hooks.

The author enjoys chemical-free protection from deer ticks, black flies and mosquitoes with a protective skin covering suit made by Rynoskin Total (http://rynoskin.com/) that fits comfortably under his clothing, even on hot days. Note the beige color suit that includes socks, bottoms, tops, gloves and hood (gloves and hood not worn in picture).  Chuck Swanderski Photo

My heart and soul was at peace with nature in this restored stream.  I was feeling quintessential on the Quittie!  The gurgle of the flowing water was such a welcome sound.  It is, perhaps, a sacred signal that these same swish and chinkle sounds occurred hundreds of years before. 

At that moment, I was again stopped in mid-thought, feeling bonded by nature to our forebears.  I thought to myself, again, such peace.  I measured my heartrate, it was 52.  Indeed, heart-found peace!  This fly rod stuff was really good stuff. 

Earlier we tied on a two-fly rig using nymph stage Hare’s Ear flies to imitate aquatic insect larvae in the stream. After an hour of casting skill improvement, we moved from hole to hole and rifle to riffle checking for active fish. The fish were moving toward the fly, but would turn away, perhaps the wrong size or pattern. Maybe my leader was too heavy.  So Chuck switched me to a hand-made streamer fly made by his old fishing buddy at Neshannock Creek Fly Shop from another favorite fishing spot of his near Pittsburgh (visit http://www.ncflyshop.com/).

The retrieve was fairly simple when compared to some bottom big jig bass fishing tactics. This simply was cast out with a roll cast, then retrieved in a pull, pull, and stop manner. Bringing in a few inches of line with each pull.

On the second cast, a 15-inch rainbow trout slammed the fly. Wham!  My arm jolted forward as the fish ran the other way, then leaped high in summersault fashion some four times before coming to our welcome net about 45 seconds later.  My heart rate zipped a bit too, awesome fun that was measurable.  What fun this was!  We carefully released the fish to fight another day, maybe to provide these same moments of fun for some youngster tomorrow or the next day. 

This 15-inch rainbow trout wacked a streamer fly and just made the day so much more special. A beautiful, colorful fish.  Chuck Swanderski Photo

Lastly, Chuck was really happy to share something that might serve as a learning lesson for thousands of other streams in the country, the Quittapahilla Creek Garbage Museum.  Here was a collection of hundreds of various shapes of disposed plastics. Bottles, baby toys, plastic chain, plastics in many forms, most of it tattered, broken, but still identifiable.

The Quittapahilla Creek Garbage Museum creates a mind-sustaining mental picture of what plastics have done to our environment and everything in it.  Forrest Fisher Photo

According to a written message from the Garbage Museum Executive Director, an educator person who placed numerous informational learning signs for others to study and whose name is not known to me, “Most plastics will DECOMPOSE, but never BIODEGRADE.  Breaking into smaller chunks, the plastic molecules will be with us for millions of years, ingested and excreted millions of times by fish, birds and other organisms.”  After reading this I thought to myself…and we wonder where cancer comes from – something we didn’t have much of 50 years before plastics.

Then I recalled the movie named “The Graduate,” where most of us remember the most significant word from that steamy movie made in 1967, “plastics.”  There is goodness and not-so-goodness, perhaps, with every invention.  I wondered if the preceding native ancestors, the Lenape Indians, would continue to use plastics if they understood what we now know about plastics?    

It was getting late, we had walked about 3,000 feet downstream stream from the public parking lot on this 34-acre Quittie Nature Park stream and the temperature was 90.  It was time to recap our trip with friends from the Pennsylvania Outdoor Writers Association at the nearby Snitz Creek Brewery, a tasteful beer-making facility not far from the stream.  We took a beer plant tour with co-founder, Patrick Freer, then discovered a few moments later that there is nothing quite like a microbrew they call “Opening Day IPA.”  This is particularly true among fellow fly-rodders that can tell a tale, if you know what I mean.  “No, my fish was bigger.  I caught two. I caught four.” And on and on.  You get the picture.  A fun, thirst-quenching, long-winded, joke-filled lunch.  The best kind.    

When friends and community work together to create a revitalized stream treasure and nature area, the future is brighter for everyone.  On a related note though, while we seem to have saved our second amendment with our current legislators – a good thing, the work of clean streams and waterways may become more challenging due to currently retracting rules of the Clean Water Act.  Be watchful as sportsmen, speak up when we need to.

Hats off to all those volunteers that take the time to reclaim lost parts of nature for the benefit of our common future. 

 

National Archery in the Schools Program Continues to Grow in New York

Posted on by stoadmin
  • 60 students from 17 New York schools eligible to participate in national archery tournament
  • Program introduces young people to archery and other outdoor sports

April 18, 2017 – New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) Commissioner Basil Seggos today announced the 60 New York students who scored high enough in the National Archery in the Schools Program (NASP) to compete in the national tournament this May. Students from participating schools and school districts across the state competed in the archery program in March.

“The National Archery in the Schools Program is growing in New York,” said Commissioner Seggos. “This cooperative effort between conservation agencies, school systems, and private organizations is a great way to bring the sport of archery to thousands of students across the state. Archery is one of the few sports where students of all ages and athletic abilities compete at the same level for top honors. Even with the expanded participation that we have experienced here in New York, we are encouraging more schools to join us in New York NASP.”

James Faso III, a Staley Upper Elementary School student focused on his shot. NYSDEC Photo

NASP is designed to improve participation in outdoor activities among students of all athletic abilities. DEC started this program in 2008 to introduce young people to archery, outdoors, and other shooting sports, including hunting. In New York, 320 schools from 167 school districts currently participate in the program and more than 34,000 students participated during the school year. NASP continues to grow at the national level with 2.4 million students and more than 14,400 schools in 47 states participating in the program.

As part of the New York program, an annual statewide competition is held for participating schools. This year, approximately 700 students from 33 school districts competed during the first two weeks of March. The 2017 statewide event was successfully held as school-based tournaments where the students compete at their respective schools and their scores are compiled by DEC. Each competitor can achieve a maximum score of 300 points. There are three divisions: High School, grades 9-12; Middle School, grades 6-8; and Elementary School, grades 4-5.

The overall top female archer in the tournament was Jordan Sands with a score of 285. Jordan attends Hinsdale High School in Cattaraugus County. The top male archer in the tournament was Jake Hafner with a score of 287. Jake attends Schroon Lake Central (High) School in Essex County.

Students that place in the top 10 in each of the three divisions, by gender, qualify to compete and represent New York at the national NASP tournament in Louisville, Kentucky, on May 11 – 13. This year, New York is sending 60 eligible students from 17 schools to the national tournament.

Ryan Huggins, the assistant NY State NASP Coordinator and Melissa Bailey, the NY State NASP Coordinator promoting NASP to physical education teachers across the state.

Chris VanGorden from the Palmyra-Macedon and Lori Weykman from the Phelps-Clifton Springs Central School Districts in western New York both agree that “NASP is a valuable program that has created opportunities for a great number of kids that may not have otherwise been involved in a sport in our schools. We have seen first-hand the increase in self-esteem in our students who have participated in the NASP Program.”

Michael Sharp, a physical education teacher at Schroon Lake Central School, in Essex County said, “NASP is probably the best program that I have ever introduced into my curriculum; it inspires all types of students to participate. The kids absolutely love it!”

For more information on NASP and to view the NASP photo gallery, visit DEC’s website and contact the sportsman Education Program, the state program coordinator for NY-NASP at 1-888-486-8332 or e-mail at hunter@dec.ny.gov.

New Channel Catfish Record in New York State!

Posted on by stoadmin
  • Lake Ontario, Jefferson County, 35-pounds, 3 ounces
  • Lucky Angler is Watertown Resident, Eric Scordo
  • Bait was a Simple Nightcrawler
Using just a nightcrawler, Eric Scordo of Watertown caught a 35-pound, 3-ounce channel catfish measuring 38 ¼ inches in Lake Ontario in Jefferson County on April 29, 2017.

The New York State Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) has confirmed that a new state record has been established for channel catfish.

Using just a nightcrawler, Eric Scordo of Watertown caught a 35-pound, 3-ounce channel catfish measuring 38 ¼ inches in Lake Ontario in Jefferson County on April 29.  The fish broke the previous state record caught from Brant Lake (Warren County) in 2002 by nearly 2½ pounds.

“Mr. Scordo’s record-breaking channel catfish is a prime example of the outstanding fishing opportunities in New York for a variety of species, not just popular gamefish,” said DEC Commissioner Basil Seggos. “This new record kicks off the 2017 freshwater fishing season, and I encourage all New Yorkers to buy their license, pick up a rod and reel, and try their hand at hooking a trophy catch in any of the state’s 7,500 lakes and ponds and 70,000 miles of rivers and streams.”

Channel catfish are the largest members of the catfish species that live in New York and can be found statewide.  They feed primarily on the bottom and are most easily caught using live bait such as worms or baitfish.  When hooked, catfish can provide a challenge for even the most experienced anglers.  They are also one of the tastiest freshwater fish.

Mr. Scordo submitted details of his winning catch as part of DEC’s Angler Achievement Awards Program, which tracks state record fish.  Through this program, anglers can enter freshwater fish that meet specific qualifying criteria and receive official recognition of their catch and a distinctive lapel pin commemorating their achievement.  Three categories make up the program: Catch & Release, Annual Award, and State Record.

For more information about the Angler Achievement Awards Program, including a downloadable application form, go to DEC’s website.  Program details and an official entry form can also be found in DEC’s current Freshwater Fishing Regulations Guide.

For additional information on the Angler Achievement Awards Program call (518) 402-8891 or email fwfish@dec.ny.gov or go to the website: http://www.dec.ny.gov/press/press.html.

 

Bobbing Tails & Black Scales

Posted on by Jim Low
  • How two very different species found homes in our homes
  • This tale of two species has a happy ending
  • We are all part of Aldo Leupold’s “Land Mechanism” at work

By Jim Low

The small cup of a phoebe nest gets crowded by the time five or six chicks near fledging size.

You step out your front door to walk the dog before bedtime, and are startled by a flutter of departing wings.  The next morning, you find white splashes of bird droppings outside the door, and a little gray bird is perched on the shepherd’s hook above your bird feeder.  Instead of dropping down to grab sunflower seeds, it periodically flies out into the air above your lawn, pumping its tail impatiently in between forays. 

Outdoor light fixtures are a favorite nesting spot for Eastern phoebes, but any horizontal surface out of the weather will do.

On your way back indoors, you spy a clump of moss and mud atop your porch light.  Inside, you open the closet in your foyer and find a 4-foot snake skin inside.

What do these two things have in common? They are evidence that your home and its environs are part of a healthy ecosystem.

If you live in Missouri, the pert little gray bird that startled you was an Eastern phoebe, a member of the flycatcher family.  It isn’t particularly showy, but you can always recognize it by its nervous habit of pumping its tail up and down.  Nervous or not, phoebes aren’t sensitive to human disturbance.  Quite the opposite, they seem to seek out human habitations for their nesting sites.  Their favorite nesting spots in our neighborhood are the horizontal surfaces provided by outdoor light fixtures.

Eastern phoebe are often viewed on a neighborhood fence, farm fence or garden fence.

You might wonder where phoebes nested before humans began erecting houses, barns, sheds and other structures with nice dry spaces beneath roof eaves.  They did – and still do – what swallows do, and built their nests on rock ledges beside streams.  That works out nicely for them, since the insects that comprise most of their diet thrive around running water.  Apparently houses with water features, sprinklers and bird baths work for them, too.

Snakes, like this common rat snake, can reach places you might not believe if you didn’t see it with your own eyes.

Getting back to that scaly surprise in the closet, if you make your yard a haven for birds, rabbits, chipmunks, squirrels and other small creatures, you also make it attractive to the rest of the food chain.  This means foxes, coyotes, bobcats, hawks, owls and snakes. 

This 21-inch black rat snake was just inches away from his goal – a nest full of phoebe chicks.

The impressive skin my wife found in our closet a few years ago came from a particularly prosperous black rat snake.  Its contribution to our residential ecosystem was keeping rodent numbers in check. 

Unfortunately for the phoebes and those of us who love them, rat snakes aren’t exclusively rat eaters (ratatarians?).  We initially blamed blue jays, such easy targets for slander, for the disappearance of five phoebe chicks from the nest beside our front door.  But the truth came out the following year, when I found a reptilian ratter neatly wedged in the grooves of our brickwork.  It was at the top of the wall, and within inches of raiding the new phoebe nest.

I spared the snake, pulling him down and escorting him to the far edge of the yard, but he ultimately paid for his crime when he had the bad fortune to inhabit a patch of tall grass when I mowed it (What’s green and black and red and flies through the air with a sickening THRRRRUPPPPP?).

Anyway, assuming that the late Mr./Ms. No Shoulders had a family, I decided that the phoebes needed a more secure spot for their nest.  Toward that end, I assembled a modest wooden box with an overhanging roof and placed it 8 feet up the slick exterior wall of my tool shed.  There, the phoebes have nested unmolested ever since, and the rat snake family has returned to its rodent-control duties.

This modest box 8 feet up a smooth wall, provides safety from snakes.

Photos on trail cameras prove that foxes, coyotes and bobcats patrol the surrounding woods, but they steer clear of our house. 

Sharp-shinned hawks exact their tribute at our bird feeders, and barred owls stake out our lawn, sparing my vegetable garden from all but a few very cautious cotton-tailed marauders.  Shrews do their part to keep the local field mice honest, and moles thin out the grubs and other underground pests, which I consider a good trade for humps of loosened soil.

These are all reminders that mankind doesn’t exist in a vacuum. 

Our species is one cog – admittedly a very influential one – in what Aldo Leopold called “the land mechanism.”  It’s nice to see the other parts working, and a reminder that we should do our part to sustain balance that all of creation needs to survive.

One of Too Few

Posted on by David Gray
  • One Man Trout Angler, Fly-Tyer, Wisdom-Provider
  • Roaring River State Park Trout Secrets
  • Tim’s Fly Shop – Fishing Advice for the Day
Beautiful trout are the usual order of the day with the right fly in the right place.

By David Gray

Opening the door to Tim’s Fly Shop, I walked onto “I Tie Flies” Boulevard.

Grinning without knowing it, I somehow felt a new twang of destiny on my side, positive energy and the odor of dry fly silicon or something.

There are times when you know your first time into a place, you made the right turn.

The quiet, the warm glow of the shop, this was going to be a powerful day.  You know the feeling when you are in the right place at the right time.

There was feathers, hackle, dubbing, chenille, thread, hooks and all that, but a guy named Tim Homesley sitting at his fly-tying bench with a fish-catchy grin and asking me if I needed some help.  That sealed the deal.

Some say that fly-fishing mentor Tim Homesley is one of a kind.

Others say Tim is one of too few.  I know that to be true.

Tim’s Fly Shop sits just outside the entrance to Roaring River State Park nestled deep in the Ozark hills of Missouri.

A baby boomer will call his shop “old school” where product selection is excellent, prices are fair and service is genuine.

A millennial will call his shop “trendy” where selection is great and service is awesome.

Tim Homesley is about real, live advice. No CD, no DVD, no memory stick. It’s just Tim’s way with words of wisdom, face to face.

Tim is one of the few.  Many tackle stores and fly shops like Tim’s that were prevalent not so long ago are now mostly gone.  Many have given way to on-line shopping and large retailers.

But what you will find at Tim’s you will never find online or at any big box store.   At Tim’s you will not only find tackle, you will find incredible knowledge that is shared with enthusiasm.

Mr. Tim Homesley is the owner, proprietor, tackle salesman, fly-maker and advice-giver at Tim’s fly shop.

Tim knows a lot about fishing.

His fishing advice is Priceless, Accurate, his fishing advice is a Sacred Vision into your Fish-Catching Future, his fishing advice is worth listening to. High-value wisdom is not found just anywhere.

“Dad probably thought I wanted a fly rod and brought one home for me when I was five,” Tim shared.

That fly rod sparked a 49-year long passion for fishing and learned knowledge about fishing.   Tim reminisced how before he could drive, Mom or Dad would drop him and a friend to the trout stream in the morning and pick them up that evening after they fished all day.  The passion started then.  Tim learned a lot about how to catch trout.

Prior to opening his shop, Tim spent 9 years managing the Roaring River State Park store.  And Tim added even more to his knowledge about trout fishing.

Perfectly perfect flies are the usual fish-catchers from Tim’s Fly Shop.

Then 23 years ago, he opened Tim’s Fly Shop.  That adds up to 49 years of fishing knowledge.

Buy $10 worth of tackle at Tim’s and you will get a couple hundred dollars of fishing knowledge thrown in.  Live advice.  No CD, no DVD, no memory stick. It’s just Tim’s way with words of wisdom, face to face.  Even if you don’t buy anything, you still get a couple of hundred dollars worth of knowledge and tips just by walking around at Tim’s Fly Shop.

Tim and Tim’s Fly Shop is one of too few.   Tim is so informative.

Question:  Other than Roaring River in Missouri where else do you like to fish?

Tim:  I like Montauk Trout area in Missouri.  It is the headwaters of the Current River and not many people know me there so I can just fish and enjoy.  I also like to float Missouri streams to catch and always release smallmouth.

Question:  Where do you like to fish outside Missouri?

Tim:  New Zealand, it is a favorite, beautiful country, friendly people and great trout fishing.

I also like the Western US.  There are some great places in the west.

Question:  What do you enjoy the most about running Tim’s Fly Shop?

Tim:  Helping people learn how to fish and catch trout. The best is teaching younger people how to fly fish and get good at it. I have taught kids to fly fish who are now Dad’s and they now bring their kids in for me to work with and teach.

Tim’s Fly Shop is like going to visit with a friend at your home. I have to stop there every time I drive by.

Question: What is your fondest memory of running Tim’s Fly Shop?

Tim:  I worked with a young man name Trent from Springfield for several years teaching him how to be a very good angler.  He wrote me a full length sincere letter thanking me for that.  It was special to receive that letter.

If you love camping, hiking, trout fishing and nature, Roaring River State Park in Missouri is one very special place to visit.  When you visit, be sure to stop by that special place called Tim’s Fly Shop, it’s located on the lower northwest side of the park on Highway 112.  On Wednesday, the shop is closed and you won’t find Tim.  He may be somewhere with rod in hand accumulating more knowledge about fishing that he will be more than ready to share with you on Thursday.

You can email Tim at timsfly@hotmail.com, but the best bet is stop in at his store address: Tim’s Fly Shop, 233387 State Hwy 112, Cassville, Missouri, 65625, or call to be sure if you are traveling, call at 417-847-4956.

For lodging, campground and park information for Roaring River State Park, call 417-847-2330

Morel Tales to Tell a Spring Story

Posted on by Jim Low
  • Mushroom season is almost here.
  • It’s likely to be earlier than usual.
  • But if you are still seeing these flowers, it’s probably not here yet.
Prospects for finding morels aren’t great, while Dutchman’s Breeches remain dewy fresh.  Jim Low Photo

By Jim Low

Mushroom season is almost here, and as usual, I got the itch to hunt for them weeks ahead of their appearance.  My rational side told me that the last week of March is ridiculously early to hope to find the big yellow morels that haunt my vernal dreams.  But, as usual, Excitable Me overruled Rational Me.

In defense of Excitable Me, this year has provided extra reasons for jumping the gun.  For one thing, we had weeks of April weather in February and early March.  On top of that, I heard some credible reports of people finding morels a few weeks ago.  I got seriously itchy feet when the mercury topped 85 degrees on several days.  All it took to push me over the edge was the 2 inches of rain that fell Friday and Saturday.  I was out the door early Sunday morning to beat others to my favorite “shrooming” grounds in the Missouri River bottoms.

The temperature hovered around 50 degrees, and low, dense clouds held the promise of more rain.  Those conditions were nearly identical to the day last spring when I found a small bonanza of plump, succulent yellow morels and a scattering of little grays.  Heading out the door, I could practically smell them sizzling in the skillet.  I was sure this was my lucky day.

This unopened Trillium flower was trying to tell me something, it’s too early.  Jim Low Photo

The only footprints I found in “my” morel hot spot on public land belonged to white-tailed deer.  Great!  My early start had put me ahead of the competition.  Many of my would-be rivals no doubt still sat in uncomfortable church pews, while I strolled through a cathedral of towering oaks and maples.  But as I scanned leaf-littered bottoms, I recognized some not-so-encouraging signs.

Adam-and-Eve Orchid is the only plant that I have absolutely come to associate with morel patches.  Jim Low Photo

First was the fact that Dutchman’s Breeches and Toothwort were everywhere.  These delicate plants generally follow close on the heels of Hepatica, the earliest of Missouri’s spring blossoms.  They generally are on their way out by the time I find morels.  My optimism mushroomed temporarily when I began noticing Trillium and May Apple.  These two wildflowers have been associated with past morel finds, but as I continued walking I realized that these were the first of their kind to sprout.  None of the Trillium blossoms were open and the May Apples weren’t even showing flower buds.  By the time I find morels, these plants are in full bloom and stand 12 to 18 inches tall.  These had only poked their heads three or four inches above the leaf litter.

These May Apples hadn’t even unfolded their umbrellas on Sunday.  Jim Low Photo

Sweet William is another wildflower I associate with morel season.  This wild version of garden phlox grows in luxuriant stands when I’m finding morels, but on Sunday morning, I saw only one.  It was still shorter than a big morel and all but a couple of its blossoms were wrapped tight as cigars against the morning chill. 

With flagging confidence, I headed for the spot that produced last year’s bounty and that has been a reliable morel producer year in and year out.  The distinctive, striated leaves of Adam-and-Eve orchids greeted me, proving that the creek bottom’s loamy soil was healthy as ever.  My most productive morel patches all support this plant, also known as putty root.  But today, Adam and Eve had no delectable company.  I finally had to admit that I’d jumped the gun again, but I continued to hold out hope for finding a handful of small but delicious early gray morels.

Most of the blossoms on this Sweet William plant were shut tight against the early-morning chill.  Jim Low Photo

I’m sure that someone somewhere in Missouri found mushrooms that morning.  Sadly, that person was not me and as I trudged homeward, I began to dread the hopeful query that would greet my return: “Did you find any!?” To redeem myself, I stopped at Central Dairy, a Jefferson City institution, and bought ice cream.  That and a brisk hike with a sound track provided by cardinals and titmice, is reward enough for the time being.  I will watch the wildflowers around the house in the coming weeks.  When the Sweet William brushes my knees, I’ll pull on my hiking boots and stuff my pockets with plastic grocery bags, sure as ever that this is my day.

I’d advise you to do the same.  It’s spring!

White Deer Foresee Good News for Future

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

White Fawn

• White Male Deer, White Female Deer, Come Together
• Indians Say this is Sacred and Special Sign

By Forrest Fisher
People everywhere are interested to see distinguished nature in the wilderness, white deer are one of those precious resources that create a sacred and reciprocal bond with nature for many of us. White deer are awe-inspiring with their simple, raw beauty.

In East Aurora, New York, photographer Theresa Meegan has introduced the nature world to the 10-year old Albino deer that has lived in this village and is frequently seen by passers-by that slow their vehicles to take a double look at the beautiful animal. The deer provides a true measure of special life in nature that survive in the wild outdoors and live long lives.

Now imagine hundreds of white deer, wild in nature, that live in deer herds all in the same place. That would be nearly incomprehensible, right? But there is such a place, though the white deer there are not Albino. The white deer found at Seneca Army Depot in central New York are a natural variation of white-tailed deer which normally exhibit brown coloring.

The Seneca White Deer are leucistic, which means they lack all pigmentation of the hair, but have the normal brown-colored eyes. Albino deer, which lack only the pigment melanin, have pink eyes (or blue eyes) and are extremely rare – like the one in East Aurora.

The Seneca White Deer interbreed freely with the brown deer in the former U.S. Army Seneca Depot there and appear to share the habitat equally. The ambassador to save the white herd at the Depot has been an old outdoor friend, Dennis Money. The Depot was a fenced-in area that kept these deer together as a giant family where hunting was usually not permitted, except for management purposes several decades ago way back to the years after World War II.

The Seneca white deer now number about 200 of the approximately 800 whitetail deer within the old Depot fence. The future of the deer, as well as the rest of the wildlife in the former Depot Conservation area had been dependent on how the Seneca County Industrial Development Agency (IDA) decided to use the 10,000 acre site, previously released for public sale by the Army. Concern by outdoor lovers of the special deer breed was high.

For about a decade or so, the home range of this special white deer herd was at risk of commercial development. The species would have been eliminated over future years, but today, the world’s largest herd of all-white deer has a new champion with Earl Martin, the new owner of the Depot land.

Martin, owner of Seneca Iron Works and Deer Haven Park LLC in Seneca Falls, bought the 7,000-acre site earlier this year, located within the Seneca County towns of Romulus and Varrick. His $900,000 offer included saving the celebrated deer herd and was unanimously approved by the Seneca IDA. That was good news that made all of the laborious and extended extraordinary efforts of Dennis Money worth all the effort. Money and Martin have saved the special deer herd.

Martin has arranged to plant more vegetation to make sure the deer have enough to eat, engaged repairs to the miles and miles of chain-link fence that surround the property, hired an ecologist to survey the land and to come up with an overall plan to ensure the white deer herd’s survival, and he has increased security patrols to keep poachers off the land.

Learn much more about the nature of this special deer herd, including how to visit the area and be charmed and inspired by these deer, visit this link: http://senecawhitedeer.org/.

According to the site, Native Americans have a long history of respect for white deer which are sometimes referred to as the ‘ghost deer.’ The Lenape Indians have a white deer prophesy. Here is an oral translation of that prophesy: “It has long been predicted that there would come a time when a white male and white female deer would be seen together, and that this would be a sign to the people to come together.’

They were way ahead of us. Despite issues that we see as a nation trying to rebuild in many ways, it seems high time for people to come together.

Educational Fly Fishing Conference – It’s About Kids

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

• Learn Fly-Fishing, 3-Day Session, Low Cost
• For Teachers, Everyday Workers, Friends of the Outdoors
• Schooling for Adult Mentors, Community Outreach Mentors
• Science Educator, Orvis Endorsed Guide Instructor

By Forrest Fisher
The summer of 2012 – it was a good year. A very special, dedicated group of outdoor educators held the first and only national interdisciplinary fly fishing conference, and this bi-annual nationwide community outreach effort continues in June, 2017.

Designed especially for professional educators that teach school-age children, the Children in the Stream extends an invitation to community education and company training instructors alike, through an intensive 3-day conference that will train adults about the outdoors through the fun of fly fishing. The conference will introduce methods for instructors to manage effective sharing and teaching skills necessary to integrate this idea to meet curriculum requirements for community schools, organizations and company training platforms.

The course is comprised of comprehensive workshops that use fly fishing as the foundation for investigating science, math, English language arts, visual arts and community outreach. This truly unique interdisciplinary approach is possible because of the eclectic expertise of participants and the commitment from instructors.

The conference is presented by Dr. Mike Jabot and Alberto Rey. Dr. Jabot is a renowned professor in science education who is a member of NASA’s international educator’s team and who has received many teaching awards. Alberto Rey provides his extensive experience as a humble Orvis endorsed fly fishing guide, as a distinguished university professor in visual arts, and as the founder and director of a successful 18-year old youth fly fishing program.

Children in the Stream provides the instruction, materials and means of acquiring discounted equipment needed to implement the participant’s own customized interdisciplinary fly fishing curriculum or to start a youth fly fishing program in a community protocol. The truly unique programming also meets the needs of school’s that utilize common core learning standards. The instructors address how to realize the participant’s goals while working within limited budgets. The interdisciplinary workshops of the conference promote a holistic integration of conservation and community involvement that will help to nurture future stewards of our natural resources. The ultimate goal is to develop the interest of our youth for the outdoors and provide them with an appreciation and more complete understanding of their environment.

The conference is held at the beautiful Roger Tory Peterson Institute of Natural History in Jamestown, New York. Roger Tory Peterson was an ornithologist who developed the “Field Guide to the Birds” and other field guides, and he inspired and “instructed” millions of bird-watchers and helped foster concerns for our environment around the world. In 1984, the Roger Tory Peterson Institute of Natural History was founded in Peterson’s hometown of Jamestown, New York, as an educational institution charged with preserving Peterson’s lifetime body of work and providing environmental programming.

The conference this year will take place on June 27, 28 and 29. The cost for the three-day conference is $350 which includes instruction in the classroom, instruction in the field, fly rod outfits, fly-tying kits and reference publications. The low conference fee is available because of private grants and donations from the Dreamcatcher Foundation and the Orvis retail company.
For information about the schedule and comments about Children in the Stream by previous participants, please go to http://www.childreninthestream.com/. Please share this with a friend.

Women-On-Ice Have Fun, Catch Fish, Conquer Fear at Mille Lacs

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
All Photo Credits ©Stonehouse Photo – Hannah Stonehouse Hudson

• Women Fish Group Leads Way in Minnesota
• Ice Fishing is Giant Thrill for Lady 1st Timers
• Clam, McQuoid’s Inn, Vexilar – Key Sponsors

By Forrest Fisher

Let’s face it, walking on water is fun for everybody, especially first-time ice anglers and especially when very special travel gear is required to get there.  Folks with a physical mobility challenge rarely have a chance to consider ice fishing, but with The Women Ice Angler Project (http://theiceangler.com/) on Lake Mille Lacs in Minnesota and chief ice-fishing mentor, Barb Carey, at the helm, impossible is not in the dictionary.  Anything is possible with Carey, a humble expert angler and founder of the Wi-Women-Fish Group (Wisconsin Women Fish, http://wiwomenfish.com/) and Barb Carey Media Productions (http://www.barbcarey.com/).

For special guest team member, Ashlee Lundvall, an author, public speaker and people motivator, someone who is challenged every day to move about, there was special thrill and excitement with the thought of ice fishing.  Lundvall used her Action Track All Terrain Wheelchair (http://www.actiontrackchair.com) to get around on the ice surface and through the snow.  While the wheelchair unit can travel up to 10 miles at 3-4 mph and is electrical battery powered, after watching Lundvall, some said that the unit is powered by the Lundvall positive attitude engine.  This incredible lady angler is not deterred by adversity.

Lundvall had never been ice fishing before, so receiving an invitation from Carey was very special.  She admits that there was apprehension in consideration of her first ever ice fishing adventure and shared, “My goal was to learn everything I could.  I wheeled away with so much more than knowledge.  I gained the feeling of teamwork and empowerment, and a desire to help women everywhere (of any ability) experience the thrill of ice fishing.”

Bonnie Timm, Clam pro staff angler and participant in all three Women Ice Angler Project events said, “There were so many things I felt were ‘too big’ for me: Mille Lacs was too big, towing my snowmobile seven hours by
myself, hauling all my own gear, even leading our group across a huge ice heave.  Not long ago it all would have been ‘too big,’ but the confidence I’ve gained with this group has helped me so much.  My motivation grew even more when I met Ashlee and watched her accomplish so many things.  She lives with no fear.”

The lady icer’s with short rods and sharp hooks enjoyed accommodations in comfort at McQuoid’s Inn (www.mcquoidsinn.com), with winter service on the ice from Mac’s Twin Bay (www.macstwinbay.com).

The lady icers put the new Clam Big Foot XL6000T (http://clamoutdoors.com/) shelter to good use.  The Clam Big Foot is a hub-style, pop-up weather shelter they used for Ashlee and her Action-Track Wheelchair that provides 112 square feet of fishable area.  Access is via one side that hinges open, allowing easy entry and exit for anglers and a powered wheelchair. “Ashlee could drive right in without a barrier,” said Carey.

Carey adding, “Mille Lacs is a fish structure wonderland with so many places to fish, it was hard to choose from so many options, but with all of our shacks we had the mobility to get where we wanted to drill more holes. That’s what makes ice fishing a success.”

Mac’s Twin Bay road system built a special bridge for the group to allow the lady ice anglers access across a large crack.  While on the move to another side of the lake, the group discovered their own ice heave with open water; that put a lump in everyone’s throat—but the fear didn’t stop them.  Each was schooled in ice safety and carried picks and a throw rope.  They also carried a life-saving Nebulus, a compact bag that inflates from a CO2 canister.

The Nebulus Emergency Flotation Device (https://nebulusflotation.com) is a compact, portable life-saving tool engineered for ice and water rescue.  The Nebulus is small and light enough on a snowmobile or ATV, it inflates in seconds, helping a rescuer reach the victim quickly and pull them to safety. Fully inflated, it can support up to three adults and a submerged snowmobile or ATV.

With no mishaps, these lady anglers forged ahead using common sense and safe ice skills to carry on—and they caught big, healthy walleyes and northern pike.  Even a Tullibee, to win the dinosaur booby prize.

The goal of the Women Ice Angler Project is to encourage women to try ice fishing as well as to mentor those who already enjoy it and want to improve their skills. “The other side of what we’re doing is to move the industry forward showing more women ice anglers,” said award-winning outdoor photographer, Hannah Stonehouse Hudson.  “We’re living this incredible dream, pursuing a sport we love.  It’s good to have the stories and the photos to go with women ice fishing.”

Sponsors have access to high-quality photos for use in their social media and marketing efforts. “We’ve seen photos from previous years’ #womenonice events on product packaging, in tourism brochures, product catalogs, store banners and definitely in lots of social media,” said Rikki Pardun, Clam pro staff angler and the gal to claim the biggest fish of the weekend, a nice Mille Lacs walleye. “We didn’t measure or weigh it, just snapped a picture and released it back.”

Two Clam and Vexilar pro staffers, Shelly Holland of Oak Grove, Minn. and Shantel Wittstruck of Sioux Falls, S.D. participated.  It was year three for Holland and first year for Wittstruck.  Also new this year was Cabela’s pro staffer Karen McQuoid.  Karen and her husband Kevin own Mac’s Twin Bay out of Isle.  “We have something truly special here in this world-class fishery and I had a great time sharing my hometown lake with the team,” said McQuiod.

Special additional thanks for support from Mille Lacs Tourism (millelacs.com), Mugg’s of Mille Lacs (www.muggsofmillelacs.com), the kind folks at Vexilar Marine Electronics (http://vexilar.com/) and Hannah Stonehouse Hudson at Stonehouse Photo (http://hannahstonehousehudson.com/).

During this unusual year of warm winter, the special “a-ha” moments occur on the ice and frankly, in part because of the ice.

Lundvall may have said it best for all the women, “I can’t wait for my next time on the ice.”

 

Doing the Right Thing

Posted on by Jim Low
  • It’s seldom the easiest, but always the best course 
  • Hunting Teal in the Morning Fog 
  • When No One is Watching, There is Friendship, Kinship, Honesty

By Jim Low

Foggy conditions are common during Missouri’s early teal season, complicating waterfowl identification.

My blood ran cold.  Moments earlier, Scott and I had been elated at doubling on a pair of dive-bombing teal.  Now, as my retriever returned with the first bird, my worst fear came true.  In her mouth was a juvenile wood duck.

The combination of shirtsleeve weather and lightning-fast gunning makes Missouri’s early teal season one of my favorites.  Inherent in this season, however, is the risk of shooting a wood duck.  It’s easy to mistake a woodie for a blue-wing in the heat of action.  The potential for mistakes is multiplied by dim, often foggy conditions.  That’s why shooting hours for the early teal season begin at sunrise, not 30 minutes before, as they do for regular duck season.

Scott and I had been talking in hushed tones as we squatted among willows in Pool 11 at the south end of Eagle Bluffs Conservation Area that September morning.  Our attention snapped back to hunting when two birds hurtled into view from the right.  I shouldered my gun instinctively and Scott followed my lead.  Imagine our astonished delight when both birds fell.  But our jubilation was short-lived.  With predatory autopilot disengaged, the thinking part of my brain recalled hearing the faint “weep-weep-weep!” cry of a wood duck just before the birds appeared.  I realized that I hadn’t had (or hadn’t taken) time to actually look at the birds before firing.  The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach became a bottomless gulf when Guinness delivered the second bird, another juvenile wood duck.

Sick-hearted and ashamed, we gathered our gear and left the marsh, leaving the two illegally killed ducks behind.  We had a tough decision to make.  We had committed a serious violation of Missouri’s Wildlife Code.  The road to recovery for North America’s wood duck population has been long and arduous.  The Missouri Department of Conservation (MDC) underscores the importance of protecting woodies by imposing stiffer penalties on those who shoot the beautiful perching ducks out of season.  Much more important to me than paying a fine was the fact that I was employed by MDC.  Wildlife Code violations are potential firing offenses for conservation workers.

Worrysome as these things were, a larger concern gnawed at me as we trudged back to the parking lot.  I had known Scott, who was then in his late 20s, for more than 10 years.  No one in his family hunted or fished, and I had become an outdoor mentor to him.  He was as fine a young man as I had ever known, and the idea of setting an example of breaking the law and then covering it up troubled me more than all the rest.  After a few days of reflection and continued conversations with Scott, I called Boone County Conservation Agent Robyn Raisch and laid our cards on the table.

Raisch thanked me for coming forward, but said that, because I was an MDC employee, he had to send the case up the supervisory chain to the Director’s Office for disposition.  Suddenly, the pit was back in my stomach.  Who would hire a middle-aged writer who got fired from his last job? At that point, I could only trust Director John Hoskins’ to put my good intentions and my 17-year record as an employee in the balance when weighing my fate.

I never heard anything from Hoskins, but at a meeting of the Conservation Commission a few months later, Assistant Director John Smith pulled me aside.  The pit returned to my stomach, but my faith had not been misplaced.  Alone in a courtyard, Smith told me that he admired my handling of a bad situation, and wished that everyone who committed Wildlife Code violations acted with equal integrity.  That meant more to me than he probably knew.

My experience is not unique.  A guy I know once mistakenly shot a buck with fewer than four points on one side.  Since Brad was hunting in a county where the antler-point restriction was in effect, he called the local conservation agent and reported himself.  The agent came and inspected the deer and, recognizing that Brad had made an honest mistake and done the right thing, cautioned him to be more careful in the future and left it at that.  Brad got to keep the deer, and he didn’t have to keep looking over his shoulder, wondering if someone had noticed his transgression.

Another guy I know accidentally killed a second turkey when he shot a gobbler.  He turned himself in and also got a warning.  I don’t know how often scenarios like this occur.  But those I do know about carry two lessons.  One is that doing the right thing, while seldom easy, is always the best course.  The other is that mentorship benefits mentors as much or more than it does mentees.  If I had been hunting alone at Eagle Bluffs that day, I probably would have taken the easy way out and never told anyone what happened.  I would have saved myself a $229 fine and a good deal of worry, but what I had done and what it told Scott about us would have haunted me for the rest of my life.  Being Scott’s mentor forced me to be a better man.

Individual ethics determine behavior in traditional outdoor sports, where the hunter is the only witness.

I’m not suggesting that we call a conservation agent every time we kill two doves on the last shot when filling a limit or when we forget to take all the lead shot shells out of a parka pocket before hunting ducks.  The measure of hunting ethics is how you conduct yourself when no one is watching, not whether you commit an occasional blunder.  If you know in your heart of hearts that you could and should have done better, when your conscience whispers that you have crossed a line that is important to you, don’t shy away from a voluntary mea cupla.  You might or might not earn a ticket, but you certainly will earn respect from the conservation agent, not to mention yourself.

Born to Hunt Pheasants

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • Well-Trained Bird Dogs
  • Timeless Moments with Old Friends  
  • Tasty, Beautiful, Ringed-neck Pheasants
  • One Surprising Modern-Day Youngster

For STO 02072017, picture 1of5By Joe Forma

The well-trained pointing Lab whirled into the red brush and a gorgeous Ringed-neck Pheasant clawed his way airborne.  The first of some 50 such flushes for my son, Andy Forma, of Penfield, New York, and his four companions on their 4th annual hunt with F&B Upland Birds in Hamlin, New York.

The companion hunters were Safari Club stalwarts Judge Bill Boller, George Cipressi and his grandson Dom, and also Dr. Pat Baranello, owner of the Calibre Shop ammo source, and Ron Bullard of Collins, New York.  Yours truly was the group photographer.

For STO 02072017, picture 2of5The hosts at F&B Upland are Fred Paye and Bill Surridge.  These great guys run a superb hunt in what they maintain as traditional Western New York bird cover.  As we step afield, we are transported back to the 1970’s when Ringed-necks were so prevalent locally.  The 200 plus acres of hunting land features standing corn, soybean fields, hedgerows and acres of natural red brush.

Fred and Bill provide wonderful, well-trained bird dogs, featuring Pointing Labs and Shorthair Pointers.  They are without a doubt the very best bird dogs I have ever hunted over.  They even respond to Fred’s command “get a drink” by immediately jumping into one of the large water tubs sprinkled around the area. Neat to see.

The morning hunt was for 25 randomly released roosters.  This is no walk ’em up and shoot in a 4-inch clover field.  Every bird was a challenge to locate and bag especially in the thick red brush and well grown hedgerows.  The dogs did a great job.  Many of the birds ran like the wily birds of old.  The group all had great shots and needed about 3-4 flushes and misses to settle down and then they rarely missed.

For STO 02072017, picture 3of5A real highlight of this hunt was George’s grandson, Dom, a 12 year-old super hunter.  Andy was really glad to have a youngster along to promote the future of his sport.  Dom couldn’t have been a better sportsman even at his young age.  He always held his cut-down Remington 20 gauge pump at a proper port arms position, as instructed.  He showed no impaired nerves or excitement, but hunted like he had done it a dozen times, not his first time.  He was an excellent shot.  He downed at least six hard-flying pheasants with single shots.  I didn’t see him miss.

After a great morning with about 22 birds brought to bag, we broke for a luxury lunch of roast venison, deep fried Canandaigua Lake yellow perch and Lake Erie walleye.  Fred and Bill fed us well in their spacious and heated tent.

For STO 02072017, picture 5of5The afternoon hunt was for an additional 25 Ringnecks.  The dogs continued their excellent work and showed no signs of fatigue.  They are well trained and well exercised, so they never quit, though some of us older sports slowed down just a bit.  The shooting was right on the mark though and the birds flushed hard with disconcerting cackling.

For STO 02072017, picture 4of5A tribute to all was that not a single bird was lost as a cripple.  Great shooting and great retrieving by the dogs.  By around 3:00 p.m., there five happy hunters and one old photographer, me, who decided one last push thru the soybean field would do it.  It produced our last kill, a long-tailed, beautifully feathered cock bird.

The boys finished with 45 to be delicious pheasants and the feeling of a day well spent.  Andy booked again for a hunt next November.

Brothers That Hunt Together – A Video Story

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
  • Lessons for Stalking Pronghorn
  • Learn About Tracking, Harvest
  • Enjoy Field Dressing Tactics, Savory Cooking Details

Pronghorn-3By Forrest Fisher

In this wonderful video from Ramp Media Outdoors, learn about the passion of how and why hunting brings two brothers together.  Despite their extremely busy lives, Matt McMorris and brother, Jeremy, share details about hunting and how it provides them with an opportunity to enjoy the great outdoors together.

They both have families with young children and live several hundred miles distant from each other, but in this video, they find a way to get together during hunting seasons in the Texas panhandle to hunt for a pronghorn buck.

Watch as they track a herd of pronghorn, share hunting techniques, scouting tactics and more importantly, perhaps, why hunting is about so much more than about taking a trophy.

Matt says, “Hunting brings people together and has such deep meaning and purpose for true sportsmen.  As brothers, we use our harvest for food to feed our families.  We hunt because it is a part of who we are as humans designed to survive.  Hunting does a lot to bring people together, bonding people to nature and to a more ultimate meaning.”

https://vimeo.com/198795623.

FIRST TIME ICE FISHING with Kids

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

There is nothing quite like taking a youngster out to ice fish when the fish cooperate. Be prepared for big smiles!

  • Keep It Simple
  • Don’t Stay Too Long
  • Bring Plenty to Eat and Drink

By Forrest Fisher

There is nothing quite like taking a youngster out to ice fish when the fish cooperate. Be prepared for big smiles!
There is nothing quite like taking a youngster out to ice fish when the fish cooperate. Be prepared for big smiles!

A few years back, when my 3-1/2 year-old grandson asked me to join him at his pre-school “show and tell”, I didn’t know how much fun that could be.  My little buddy talked about one of his favorite things – fishing.  He brought his 4-foot long Zebco “Tigger” fishing rod with pushbutton casting reel, his little blue/beige colored Plano tackle box, all his bobbers, sinkers and hooks, and one more thing that just touched my soul – a picture of him and me taken by his father when he caught his first sunfish on vacation last year.  A moment to live for!

The size of his ear to ear smile in the picture made everyone else in the classroom smile too.  “Wow, look at that BIG fish,” said another young guy in the class. “This is me and my Dziadzia (Polish word for grandad)”, he said, “And ‘dis is a fish I caught last year on vacation.”  Then, using a rubber casting plug, he went on to give a live demonstration of how he could cast.  He then looked over to me and said, “Me and my Dziadzia are Fish’N Buddies.”  A piece of my soul had just been gold-plated.  It’s been a few days since then, actually it’s been a few years, but I’m still beaming with pride from the memory of that moment.  The outdoors does bond people together for a lifetime.

Even back then, my grandson could probably best be described as a “talker”.  He asks lots of questions and usually offers lots of answers too.  He is a joy.  Anyway, as I drove him home after the show and tell, he asked me about where the fish go in the winter time.  Young minds at work.

I told him the whole story about how water gets cold when winter comes and it eventually freezes on the top.  The ice forms a hard thick layer and there is water below it where the fish live through winter.  I explained that most of the fish live on the bottom in the deepest part of the lake.

Collin asked, “Don’t they get cold?”  I explained that fish are not like people, fish are the same temperature of the water they swim in (they’re cold-blooded).  So when the water gets cold, the fish get cold too, but they don’t freeze, they just slow down.  They eat less, but they do eat in winter.

I should have known what was coming next, but I never even thought about it.  “Well, why don’t we go fish for them in the winter too?” He asked.  I told him that lots of people fish in the winter by drilling a hole through the ice and fishing a little jig and bobber for fish on the bottom.  “Can we go, can we go?” He asked.  How could I say no?

The next day after clearing it with his mom and dad, off we went to a small frozen pond that I knew had crappie, sunfish, yellow perch and black bass in it.  We walked over to an area of the pond that I thought was the deepest and I showed Collin how a clip-on weight could be used to show how deep the water was.  It was about 14 feet.  He wasn’t too thrilled about any of the technical stuff, he just asked, “Can we fish here?”  So we did.

We had about 7 or 8 inches of ice and I showed Collin how to use the ice scoop (hand skimmer) to clear the hole of ice chips and slush from digging the hole.  He took on to that job and OWNED IT.  He liked to “clear the ice” with the little shovel we brought too.

For STO 01312017, FISHING and LOVE OF SPORT, Picture 2of2We had a clear blue sunshine day, no clouds and no snow, air temperature about 25 degrees and a 5 mile per hour from the north.  Not a bad winter day in WNY.  With the sun, it felt more like 35 degrees.

Then we added a bobber stop and slip bobber to the very thin and supple 4-pound test Berkley “ice line”, a tiny ice-jig  and about 1/16 ounce of pinch-on BB-shot a foot above.   We again used the clip-on weight to set the bobber stop so the jig would be about one inch off the bottom.  I didn’t bother to explain this part of the set-up to the youngster.  He wanted to fish!  We added a mousee grub to the hook of the tiny ice-jig and let the line fall into the depths below.

As the line settled out, Collin watched the bobber with total focus.

Of course, most of the time, ice fishermen will concede that it takes two or three stops and digging new holes each time to find fish and get a strike. We lucked out.  The bobber started to quiver and wobble, then it disappeared, Collin yelled, “There it goes!”  I picked up the rod and handed it to him.  He had been practicing how the open-face reel works all day and knew very well how to turn the reel handle to wind in the line.

It was bit of a struggle as his face was straining a little.  He was excited and I bet a little scared at the same time.  I imagine not ever having done this before, he might have been wondering what he might have down there.  The lite-weight, micro-sized ice rod was bent double and a wiggling fish was definitely on the end.  I coached him to keep reeling and he was doing a great job, slowly turning the handle over.  Collin was on the edge of a new moment.

An instant later, a 12-inch perch plopped out of the hole right onto the ice surface.

WOW!! Look at that Dziadza!  “We better take it off the hook Dziadzia, we have to put it back into the water.”  I explained that we could keep this fish and have it for dinner later.  He stopped talking, waited, looked sat me, looked at the fish and then said, “Can we let this one go?”  I smiled at him and said, “Sure we can!”

We both worked to carefully remove the ice jig from the lip of the fish and then we slid the fish across the ice to the hole.  Collin used his boot to help the fish find the hole.  Once there, one flip and the perch swam out of sight, back into the deep.

“Good job,” I told him. “Was that fun?” I asked.  “Yup,” he smiled wide and wider as he answered.  “Can we try that again Dziadzia?”  I began thinking, oh Lordy, I HAVE been born a lucky man.

We caught about 6 more fish in the next hour.  A black bass, another yellow perch, and several bluegills.  It was a great day for first time ice fishing.

Without reaching the point of “Can we go home now,” I told Collin that we had to go back to see Grammy now.  He wanted to stay.  I was happy to discover that after an hour he wasn’t tired of all the excitement, but I wanted to make sure he didn’t get cold and that he still had the desire to return.

Even before we reached the truck, we were already talking about another day on the ice for the next weekend.  I realize now that as I get older, I have less time to get older.  This stuff is fun!!  I suddenly want to eat the right foods, get some exercise, live healthier and make sure that I can stay on this planet for a very good long time.

You see, I know that when his two sisters find out about this, I’m going to need a calendar book for noting the next ice fishing dates.  Ice fishing with children is more than fun.  It is an experience that can open the door to a lifetime of outdoor adventure and also allow for some gold-plated moments in time, if you’re lucky.

Did I mention that fishing with kids will make you younger too?  We are always reminded that life is about attitude, aren’t we?  This was an attitude-changing day for sure.  My life changed that day.

On the last fish we caught, Collin turned to me to ask one small favor.  “Dziadzia, can we keep this one?”  I said, “Well, we don’t have enough to make a meal because we let them all go, why do you want to keep this one?”  He said, “For show and tell next week.”  I grinned.  OK Collin, I have an aerator at home and it will keep the fish alive until then.”  Mr. Bluegill went home with us in a 5-gallon bucket and off we went, bright-eyed and cheery-tailed, looking ahead to the next time we could go ice fishing.

Give yourself the opportunity.

Hey folks, the ice has had a hard time getting here this year in many parts of the country, but it will get here.  Step out there and grab some winter ice-fishing fun.  Take a kid with you!   In many areas of the country, there is no closed season for many species of panfish and they’re easy to catch.

The Great Divine

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

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By Forrest Fisher

Talented and inspirational author, K.J. Houtman, continues to provide the outdoor world thought-provoking appreciation with a common connection. This heartwarming, outdoors lady identifies ways we see our Creator in nature. On this Thanksgiving Day 2016, enjoy her wonderful poem above.

For more from K. J. Houtman, including an entire chapter book series of adventurous outdoor tales for kids, see Fish On Kids Books at www.fishonkidsbooks.com or at Amazon starting with Book #1 A Whirlwind Opener. There are six books in the series.

Houtman’s newest book (adult non-fiction) is the life story on outdoorsman Jim Zumbo (now available on Amazon, https://www.amazon.com/Zumbo-K-J-Houtman/dp/0991111656/). Check out this link:  http://www.fishonkidsbooks.com/zumbo.html.

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Waterfront Sunsets are Blazing and Breathtaking

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
Sunset from “Canalside” on the revitalized Buffalo River, near Erie Basin Marina, can offer vivid colors and exhilarating moments with nature and water-friendly neighbors. Scott Kelly Photo

As our hot summer days of 2016 begin their change toward September, weather front patterns have provided chilling wind directions from the northwest with occasional daytime waterspouts over ports and shorelines along the Great Lakes. Waterspouts are startling and extraordinary to view. Such days are often closely followed by a clearing sky and pivotal sunset that tenders the incredible “orange-glow” of reproductive energy for the next day.

The late summer sunset along the shorelines of Great Lakes ports can be simply breathtaking.

There are pleasure boats, fishing boats, sailing boats and a brand new armada of kayak boats – all a part of the summer waterway flotilla, people enjoying our local waterways and nature. These are things that provide a polite reminder that if we live in America and we live near water, we live in one of the most remarkable places on the planet.

During a recent family trek along the rejuvenated Buffalo River – from the Buffalo Naval Park to Erie Basin Marina, the sun was about to set and there was a hint of rain in the distance. Everyone along the walkway was distinctly overwhelmed by the remarkable beauty of the daytime to nighttime epiphany in progress.

The elusive depth and spectrum of brilliant colors on the horizon was stunning. It was elegant. The moments also seemed to provide a divine link to coincide with the natural world around us and for me, thoughts of the indigenous peoples of our area before us.

I wondered about how earlier populations might have also observed this time of year from this same shore of the Buffalo River, often described in Seneca Indian history as a fertile place where many fish species spawned. Of course, this was hundreds of years prior to modern civilization and thanks to conservation groups such as the Buffalo Niagara Riverkeepers, the natural river life is returning.

Of course, there have been countless generations over that time, with unfettered understanding about the ways of clean water and maintaining the natural world. The fish, the birds and those tiny, little, life organisms that make all of the larger life forms possible. Glad we know so much more about that today, because as science has allowed us to understand the staple requirements of survival for all forms of life in nature, people everywhere have grown as a community. Indeed, all lives matter.

Today we manage fish and game harvest thanks to science. We manage water pollution, air cleanliness and we seem more intent to return to the outdoors with much greater respect and much greater demand for nurtured home gardens, wild and uncontaminated game harvest, fresh fish dinners from the depths of clean water and better routines for allocating our free time to bond with nature.

As I have traveled around this great country of America for more than 40 years in the engineering world of space and defense – and I loved it, I can share that each time I returned home to the Buffalo area, I could never quite figure out why I absolutely loved coming home to Western New York. There are so many reasons!

Of course, family first, but then the other supporting elements too. The people in this sector of our great country work together to get along, nature is spectacular, there is incomparable opportunity for fishing, hunting, boating, camping, hiking, photography, sight-seeing and whatever direction your love for nature may take you. Then you walk along the boardwalk in downtown Buffalo, New York, at sunset in August and the qualities of our local cosmos and why people love it here become quite clear.

It is much the same in many cleaned-up ports along the chain of our astonishing Great Lakes

Let’s help each other maintain the balance of nature. Share life with others, make new friends in the outdoors, lead by example.

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Tales of Sharing Summertime

Posted on by Forrest Fisher
Summer flowers in full bloom attract a honey bee and a fly as they both share in the nectar of friendship and nature. Jim Monteleone Photo

With local villages and townships across the country enjoying the summertime, the outdoors in 2016 has become a main theme for many.

People travel from near and far to enjoy the receptive energy that visiting new destinations can offer. I visited a small town USA village last week, East Aurora, New York, and found a town fair atmosphere with Main Street shut down so that local artists, authors, vendors, coffee maker folks and many others could share time in the brilliant sunshine of the day.

There were hanging planters ablaze in flowering, colorful glory, hummingbirds were frequent visitors as I watched from a park bench placed along the way.

Develop New Friends in Nature

Girl Scout and Boy Scout youngsters were on hand – I talked with local adult leaders of these groups, 4H groups were there too, shop displays, stores and small handmade crafts were nourishing the crowds with that feeling of traditional values and friendships, all in the unanimated outdoor world. The festivities were genuine and interconnected with our outdoorsy village and it made me consider that many folks never ever really discover the elements of the nature world that surrounds us every day.

Nature has a certain reverence about it quite like this quaint little village of East Aurora. Probably why many of the folks we spoke with love to live there, plus we also discovered old fashioned grind-your-own coffee bean coffee shops and microbrew factories! Just like old times.

Yet, it seems that modern society and nature have opposing new forces about our diverse ecology. As my better half and I enjoyed this visit – the plants, the sunshine, the people, we watched a few whitetail deer fawns and their mother doe in a distant nearby field as sunset approached.

Connected Through Nature

My mind switched to consider the delicate balance of living organisms that secretly thrive among us in a food chain similar to the chatting and inspiring interconnected conversations on this special Main Street. Both are a part of that natural feedback loop that we never see.

More directly involved in the outdoor world, anglers identify the important energy we need to know more about with that delicate balance in nature. Many anglers use life-restoring water wells in their boats, they promote “catch-measure-release-alive” fishing tournaments and they promote better management policies with controlled minimum size limits and daily bag limits. All good.

Hunters too, are formally educated about wanton waste of killing game not intended for personal consumption or needy food kitchens.

The North American Game Plan sets the policy that provides enriching focus for local states and municipalities about the intended necessary balance of nature, and an elaborate destiny detailed to educate our outdoor community in the manner of respecting the wildlife many of hunt today. Much like many of our forefathers did long ago.

Hiking and camping too, we are taught to carry out what we carry in. Don’t litter. Leave your destination as you found it or make it cleaner and better.

Fishermen can share secrets for success, exchange ideas for better conservation and promote the ecology while promoting the economy at the same time. Forrest Fisher Photo

Anglers and hunters contribute to conservation and enforcement of species-protecting rules and regulations from their pocketbooks more than any other group. The license fee to fish or hunt or trap is heavy. There is no fee levied for most other groups that are allowed to explore flora and fauna in the same woods and on the same waters as anglers and hunters, yet many of those groups are among the largest numbers to promote anti-hunting and anti-fishing campaigns. Maybe they don’t really understand. Let’s leave it there.

All of us as a group, might strive to learn more about how to budget that delicate balance of life in the outdoors that survives in our woods and streams. It may be difficult to bring our Pokémon-oriented, head-down, modern universe, into a responsible understanding of the positive influence we must all hope to develop to maintain the original blueprints of our ecology. It won’t be easy.

Will we need science and technology? Yes, absolutely. Yet, in the beginning, nature did seem to survive without it. Like the enormous beauty that we can find in a cloudless and moonless night, or the intricate moments to be savored during morning sunrise or evening sunset, or the enlightened fear we suddenly realize during an electrical thunderstorm that ravages our hilltops on occasion, there are often many sides to the same coin.

These things in nature interact so dynamically that we allow ourselves the reward to develop unwritten respect and passion for nature. At the same time, responsible sportsmen can enjoy the traditional value a fish dinner or a venison roast – as that too, now that we understand, is all part of the delicate balance we need to manage.  We are part of it.

Enjoy the outdoors-based cosmos of summertime near you and evoke others to get involved in the outdoors.

My Grandma Taught Me to Fish

Posted on by stoadmin

Early Lessons Pay Big Dividends When Kids Grow Up
By Bernard Williams

Bernard Williams learned early lessons from his grandmother that instilled a lifelong love of fishing in him. He caught this 3.15-pound whopper crappie at Lake Grenada, Mississippi, with his fishing partner, Don Terry, in the fall of 2015.

My paternal grandmother, Alberta Williams, lived with us.  She had to in her early 80’s when I was born; don’t remember her exact age, but I do know she was around 97 when she passed away.  Well, grandmamma loved to fish.  My mom says she started taking me fishing as soon as I could walk.

I was raised on a small farm. We were poor financially, but I didn’t know it.  My parents worked outside the house as well as on the farm.  My dad raised all our food including cattle, hogs, chickens, corn, cotton, and vegetables.  In those days we only had to purchase flour, sugar and a few other small grocery items.  I would have the time of my life exploring the outdoors as a kid.  I grew up with hunting dogs, and cats––that’s right, we had cats that caught everything from birds to snakes, and a rat or two every now and then.

I remember one morning when I was about 5, she called me from the breakfast table and asked if I wanted to accompany her “down to the pond” as she would call it. We had an 8 or 9 acre farm pond behind the house.  My answer was always “yes ma’am.” In those days you never said just “yes” or “no” to an adult.  I gathered up my pole and away we went.  The pond was about 200 yards behind the house and it was off limits to me as a kid unless I had adult supervision.

Grandma had an innate ability to find a bream bed, I thought it was some kind of magic.  Little did I know, she knew the scent.  She would say, “Boy, you smell that watermelon?”  I would say, “Yes ma’am,” knowing I had no idea.  I just wanted to put my pole in the water.  She would bait my hook with night crawlers we had gathered on the way to the pond.  Dad had a worm bed he’d started long ago.  That worm bed stayed full of night crawlers on one side and red worms on the other side.

She would pitch my worm out near an old stump and then bait her hook and do the same.  This particular day, as soon as my hook sank beneath the surface, a huge hand-size bluegill swallowed my bait and the fight was on. The fish gave a tremendous pull. For a small boy, this feeling caused tremendous excitement, almost to the point of wetting my pants (which is what I did!).  She helped me land the fish and get it into the basket.  Again, she baited the hook and instantly the same thing happened––another hand-sized (or better) bluegill.

I can’t remember exactly how many we caught that day, but I do remember my little sister getting extremely mad about being left out of our fishing adventure.  I’ll never forget the look on my mom and dad’s faces when they returned home to a table full of bluegill fried up with green tomatoes.  Oh boy, it’s kinda like Jerry Clower used to say, “It’ll make a puppy pull a freight train.”

My grandma had only two grandsons.  I was the youngest.  The older one, Johnny, was almost my dad’s age.  Grandmamma looked at Johnny like a son, but looked at me like a grandson.  I’ll never forget the fishing lessons she gave me and the whippings she helped me avoid.

Guess its true, that’s what unforgettable grandmothers are supposed to do––spoil the grandkids.

Wise Women, Fishing Lures, Mother’s Day

Posted on by stoadmin

By Mike Marsh

I smiled at the memory of my first fishing lure it was a jointed minnow-imitation called a Cisco Kid. A gift from the true anglers in my family, Grandma Marsh and Great Aunt Catherine, the lure had seen musky duty in the Great Lakes and had tooth scars as proof. They offered me the choice of any lure in their tackle boxes when I traveled “Up North” to attend a family funeral and this one looked most like a real minnow, except for a Rudolph-red splotch on its nose.

Arbella Jones came to our house in Climax, North Carolina, every other weekend, and my mother paid her to help with the cleaning while she went shopping in Greensboro. I wasn’t certain what Arbella meant when she hugged me one day and whispered into my ear, “Your momma is awful good to me. Would you like to come fishing with me this afternoon?”

Mom nodded yes when I asked if I could go. I got my pitiful “gear” together and when the appointed time arrived, she drove me to the end of a dirt road, where 11 children sat on old couches on a front porch that showed gray wood through a ghostly pallor of white paint eroded by weather and neglect. Placing my clunky steel tackle box and fiberglass fishing rod beneath an oak tree, I went inside as the crowd of kids hushed their clamoring and whispered behind my back.

There was no television set, no rug covering the cleanly mopped wood floor, no drapes on the windows and not a picture on the wall. I passed a bedroom where Arbella’s husband was half asleep. A cold chill hit me as he glared and asked, “What’s HE doing here.”

I knew right then that a white child had likely never played at his home. Arbella stood between us, whispering something to him until his face cracked a broad smile.

A five-year-old girl licked peanut butter from a spoon and nibbled a sandwich of baloney folded into a slice of bread.

“Have some, Mister Mike?” she asked.

I shook my head, ashamed to deprive the family of a scrap of food. It was my first glimpse of the poverty that flourished nearly in our backyard.

A few seconds later, Arbella swatted the little girl on the behind and chastised her for not offering me supper. When I tried to explain that she had, but I declined, Arbella frowned and I realized I had injured her pride.

The entire family headed to a local lake in a rusted car and pickup truck. Lining the bank, everyone fished with cane poles except Archie Lee. My wound-fiberglass rod was relegated to worm-and-cork fishing because the antique affair was spooled with Dacron line and my rusty reel was incapable of casting the lightweight Cisco Kid.

Archie Lee spotted the lure in the open tackle box and asked if he could try it. Arbella shot him a warning look. Although a man of 22, he cowered, but I nodded permission and he tied the lure to the monofilament line of a spincast rig. He made his way to the tall grass and willows along the low side of the pond.

I stopped fishing and watched as he cast the lure, retrieved it, and carefully cleaned its hooks of algae. At the fifth cast, the water erupted. The biggest fish I had ever seen launched from the water like a Polaris missile, tossing its head from side to side. Foam marked the surface and water boiled at the point where he submerged.   Then the bass erupted from the water again and all the kids dropped their rods, shouting and clapping as their brother battled the fish.

Suddenly, silence. The water stilled. As quickly as the battle was joined it ended.

“You’d better not have lost Mister Mike’s lure,” Arbella said in a voice that could have frozen the humid August air.

Archie Lee was scared to death of snakes, but was even more afraid of his momma. He waded through the algae-covered water, up to his knees, waist, chest, and then his neck. Finally he ducked beneath the water, felt his way to the end of the line and freed the lure from the submerged log where the bass had scraped the aggravating lure from its mouth.

Dripping wet and towering over me, Archie Lee gently bent down, returned the lure to my tackle box and smiled. I caught my first bass with it later that summer, fishing it on a spincast rod like Archie Lee’s that I bought with money earned doing farm labor beside Arbella’s children. I was so excited when the fish struck the lure and jumped seven times, that I dropped the rod in the mud when I grabbed the fish.

That adrenaline rush, while quieted some over the years, still transforms me back into a ten-year-old kid fishing with my Grandmother Marsh, Great Aunt Katherine and Arbella Jones, whenever I catch a big fish on a lure. They were the piscatorial matriarchs of their families.

I am sure there are other anglers as fortunate as I have been, introduced to the wonders and pleasures of fishing by women who loved fishing as much as they loved children with them.

Grandmothers, aunts and family friends, they were all someone’s mother. I wish I could wish them a happy Mother’s Day, but they are all fishing in the Great Beyond.

If your mother, or someone else’s mother, has ever taken you fishing, hug her hard this Mother’s Day, for you are one of the luckiest people.

My Granny Taught Me to Fish

Posted on by stoadmin

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By Everette Wall

I may never make it to Heaven but if I don’t, I’ve been close enough to have an idea of what it’s like.  It was the backseat of an old Buick, surrounded by the thick, heady aroma of lilac bath powder.

It wasn’t what you might think, though.  I was about six years old, sandwiched between my paternal grandmother and one of her friends.  “Sandwiched” is an appropriate term because both ladies were what is known in today’s jargon as “full-figured.”  I didn’t mind, however, because we – including two other women in the front seat – were heading to the coast to go fishing.  For a youngster who loved fishing and his grandma with equal passion, life just couldn’t get any better.  And, I don’t think it ever has.

Those journeys, and others that followed, were a combination of agony and ecstasy.  On one hand they seemed to take forever.  Those were the days before four-lane highways and bypasses in eastern North Carolina and our route wound through the middle of towns like Beulaville and Chinquapin.  Not only that, but the driver didn’t believe in exceeding 45 miles per hour, regardless of the circumstances.  I thought we’d never get there and, if we did, every fish in the ocean would have already been caught.

In Granny’s scheme of things, the time to go fishing was whenever she and her buddies got the notion.  She would just leave Granddaddy a note that said, “Gone to the coast.”  That was his signal to fend for himself until she returned.

For Granny and her cohorts, fishing at the beach was a reprieve from doing laundry, cleaning house, and the other things that made up their day-to-day existence.  It wasn’t that they didn’t love their families and taking care of them, but ever so often, a girl needed a break.  And the weathered, wooden deck of an ocean pier, bathed by a cool breeze as it swayed slightly in the relentless, blue surf was a wonderful place to take one.  Gulls squawked as they wheeled overhead, dipping toward the waves periodically to investigate a possible meal, or maybe just because it was fun.  Farther out toward the horizon, sleek gray forms arched above the blue water as porpoises followed schools of fish down the shore.

The Surf City Pier was Granny’s preferred base of operations.  When she and her entourage arrived, they would take positions along whichever side seemed to be most productive and arrange their rods along the rail.  Then they would settle back on the pier’s weathered benches or in folding chairs to watch for bites.  The tips of Ocean City rods with level-wind Penn reels would dip slowly and rhythmically as waves passed beneath the pier.  Every so often, one would give a quick, definitive jerk.  That was the signal for the angler closest to it to grab the rod and begin cranking.  More often than not a silvery form, sometimes two, would be swung over the rail and flopped onto the deck, to be admired and then tossed onto the ice in a waiting cooler.

Granny and her crew were no fair weather fisherwomen.  Once the battle was joined, they were in it for the long haul.  They would man their stations all day and, often, most of the night.  They knew some of the best fishing was in the wee hours of the morning when most tourists were dozing in their rented cabins and only serious anglers remained at their posts.

If the daylight hours were interesting, nighttime on an ocean pier was magical.  I would curl up in a blanket and stare in wonder at a canopy of stars that looked close enough to touch.  Sometime during the evening I would doze off, immersed in the smell of shrimp and salty air, serenaded by the woosh of waves against the pier’s pilings, and content in the knowledge that Granny was within reach if I should need or want anything.  The rising sun would be my alarm clock, that and the heavy tread of anglers coming out for the early morning bite.

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Spots, Granny’s favorite species, can be caught pretty much all year, but early fall is the best time.  That’s when the fish begin to congregate to shallow inshore waters in preparation for their winter spawning migration.  It’s the time of year when they are the fattest, many of them sporting bright yellow bellies – evidence of their elevated hormones.  Eventually they make their way offshore to breed. The eggs hatch at sea and the fry, barely a millimeter long, slowly wash back into the estuaries and begin the cycle all over again.

So it is with fish – and sometimes with little boys.  They eventually grow up, move to distant shores and assume lifestyles that insure their existence and that of future generations.  Before it’s all over, however, they return – if not physically, at least in their hearts – to those places that were most special in days gone by.

In one lad’s case that’s an ocean pier, right beside Granny.  It might be a great place to spend Mothers Day.

The Most Perfect Mother’s Day!

Posted on by Stacy Hedberg

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All I wanted for Mother’s Day was for my family to come fishing with me. My husband, Jeff, daughter Kendall (15) and son Cole (12).  Kendall does not like fishing, hunting or the outdoors (completely opposite of me!).  Cole likes fishing, but he’s an active 12-year old boy who doesn’t like to sit still, so fishing in a boat gets boring for him.

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Regardless, both kids didn’t complain once all day and actually had a great time!  We fished in the 48th Annual one-day Minnesota Bound Crappie Contest on Lake Minnetonka, near Minneapolis.

mothersday3More than 2,000 anglers now fish this contest every year with thousands of dollars in prizes, but the real winner of the day is that together, anglers raise thousands of dollars for “Fishing For Life” organization while celebrating family life and fishing fun too (http://fishingforlife.org/pages/who-we-are).

I fished it as a kid for years, so really wanted my kids to do the same.  The day started off slow fishing with a bobber and crappie minnow.  After minimal fish catching, I thought let’s try casting tube jigs.  On my first retrieve, I caught a crappie!  Then two more!

Cole jumped right on that and was casting like mad.  He’d get a hit and miss, then a hit and catch one, he was hooked.  We were using Southern Pro tubes in chartreuse, but then switched to pink and black.  Using 4-pound clear mono, the light jigs were easy to cast.  We caught bass and sunfish too.  Such fun!

Kendall was completely content just enjoying the sunshine and watching everyone, and I was just glad she was happy to be out in the boat with us.  I love spending time with my kids and it just feels so good to know that we support each other as a family.  We were in a time crunch before the 2:00 p.m. weigh-in deadline.  We sped over to a secret hot spot my cousin, Mike Ferrell, graciously shared with us.

mothersday4It was really windy, so it was hard to cast those tube jigs.  We switched back to bobber and minnow fishing, tossing our casts all the way into the emerging reeds.  After that, we caught one after another and we didn’t want to leave, it was a blast!  Cole caught the biggest crappie of the day out of our boat, weighing in at 0.71 pounds.  Not enough to win the contest, but close!  Cole is hooked on the thrill of the competition and I look forward to getting him out there again soon.

As busy as all of our schedules are nowadays, it really was one of the best days I could have had having my whole family out together.  We had a lot of laughs and made some great memories this weekend!  Our next fishing trip together will be Memorial Day weekend at Sandy Point on Lake Kabetogama and I can’t wait for that.

It was the most perfect Mother’s Day!

Thank you family!

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Old-Time Tackle, Dad, Lessons Learned

Posted on by Forrest Fisher

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As a kid, I would ask my dad to visit any number of tackle shops near our home outside Buffalo, New York. In our area, there were favorites that we had identified as top stops for new lures and new stuff every new fishing season. We went to three places as a seasonal ritual, but today, all of these stores have closed up shop.

Other top stops in the old days were for advice, asking for help in learning better fishing techniques and for finding lures and supplies that were more affordable than the last stop. Money was not plentiful. My absolute favorite tackle store was United Surplus – this quaint outdoor store was situated on Broadway Avenue in Buffalo.

The owner was a short man named Mr. Paul who always had a happy face and friendly advice, especially for curious kids with very little money in their pocket. I fit right into that category, but he seemed to know that and when he would ask what he could help me find, I would simply say, “just looking for some fishing stuff I can afford”. He would ask, “Well, how much do you have to spend?”

I would hesitate for a moment or two and think to myself – why would I want this guy want to know how much money I have? He’ll probably only charge me more for what I want? But actually, that turned out to never be the case.

The year was 1956. “Mr. Paul”, I would say, “I don’t have very much money today, but I do have about 20 cents and I’m looking for some hooks and sinkers for the fishing season after school ends this year.” That would start a great conversation that was more like a modern fishing seminar today, but way before we called them seminars. He would say, “How big are the fish you want to catch and where are you and your dad going fishing?”

At about seven years old, I didn’t know the name of the creeks we fished, so I just said, “In the creeks near home.” He said, “Where’s home?” You see how it went. Finally, we got down to the fact that we were fishing for opening day trout, stocked trout, and later on, for smallmouth bass in Blossom Creek (Buffalo Creek). I learned this from the pictures of fish he brought out to help me identify what they were. What a guy!

He would then show me how to rig the hooks, crimp the split shot, called “lead shot” in those days, and just how hard to pinch the shot with a pair of pliers. “Here, that’s how it’s done, you try!” Mr. Paul would say. Mr. Paul was a full-service seminar kind of guy! Of course on most visits to United Surplus, my dad was there and learning too, or maybe he just let Mr. Paul think that as owner of the store, he was the expert for now.

In thinking back, yep, that would have been my dad’s style, he always allowed me to think I knew more about fishing than he did, even when I was just seven or eight years old. That never changed as I got older, my dad always made me feel like I was the champion angler and he always made sure that I caught more fish than he did. What a dad! He’s been gone five years now and even though he lived to the ripe age of 85, I sure miss him.

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Our last trip together on Lake Erie was fishing at anchor for yellow perch out of Sunset Bay. The fish weren’t very cooperative that day, but we did catch about 20 keepers and guess what? Dad caught 16 of them! He was beaming! I can’t tell you how tough it was not to set the hook on my line, but I wanted to make sure that on this trip, dad caught more than I did; I knew he was getting to the point of fewer trips from home and there might not be a trip next time.

I cannot tell you how good that made me feel and I suddenly realized from thoughts recalled during my childhood days, things had just reversed! To give is definitely better than to receive! To this day, I make sure that most folks in my boat are the winners in the fish count. Try this yourself, it’s more fun for you and for them when you make them the hero! We never argue about lost fish either, no point in that, all of us fish for fun unless we are in a professional tournament. Most local tournaments are fun tournaments too.

To the many folks who donate their time to help out kids fishing derby events all around the country, a giant salute to you all. You too know the wonderful happiness deep down inside your heart that results from those simple labors of helping others learn to catch fish.

Good luck with your tackle box sorting chores, don’t forget to check your line too, disassemble and oil the reels, replace worn rod guides and check your stock of the simple stuff that defines fishing – your hooks and sinkers.

Make it a point to share your fishing skills with someone else this summer! It’s that time of year! Tight lines to everyone!

I Love You Enough to Teach You to Fish

Posted on by Eric Dinger

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According to the experts at World Bank, the planet needs to produce 50% more food than we do today in order to feed the 9 billion people who’ll live here by 2050.

How can that possibly happen? Increases in efficiency are part of the answer.  Lower food quality and artificial dietary supplements are, too.  But the only real answer is our planet needs to build more farms, ranches and orchards.

Where will that happen? Drive out in the country sometime, or imagine for a minute your last trip.  Do you see places where there could be farms, but instead native grasses or trees are growing?  Now envision a similar dynamic in every country on every continent.  Picture a growing quantity of agriculture and a declining quantity of truly wild places.  In order to build a new farm, is there any option but to plow up a wild place?

See, hunting and fishing are about so much more than an angry tweet over the life of a lion.  Hunting and fishing play a very serious role in the real-world conservation that sustains nearly all species of plant and animal on Earth.  All people are in a lifelong dogfight to preserve all of creation – the left and right, the greenies and oil barons, the anti and pro-hunters – we’re all bound to this watery rock and can only take from it so much before we endanger the plants and animals in our way.

If you don’t hunt or fish because you love animals or don’t want to see them killed, you are holding on to an ideal that is some parts fantasy and all parts unsustainable. Something will die today so that you can live.  Whether you kill it or someone else does it for you, it must die for you to live.

When we plow up native grass to plant corn, when we cut down trees to build strip malls, we are removing the only home a wild animal has.  And, once it’s gone, we’ll almost never get it back.  When a person buys a fishing license, a hunting license, or pays a premium for the life of a living thing via some exotic hunt, they are actively preserving the wild places that sustain the animals we all love. Humans have developed no other model that works at scale.  If you love animals you must support direct participation in the food chain via hunting or fishing, or you must take responsibility for your role as the surrogate killer, the politically correct accomplice in the true crime against wild animals and places.

 About the author: 

Eric Dinger is the co-founder and CEO of Powderhook.com, a website built to help people find access to hunting and fishing spots, trips, groups and events. He can be reached at eric@powderhook.com. 

 

First Fish Story

Posted on by Tyler Mahoney

Episode 1

When a youngster started fishing with his dad at 3 years old, using a bait casting rig, despite his dad’s warning to leave the rig alone, the monster fish hooked on that “less than magnificent” first cast, left an indelible impression that FISHING IS FUN! It has become a lifetime journey today. Listen and enjoy the passion, excitement and love of this recollection from angler outdoorsmen, Tyler Mahoney.

The Meaning of Christmas

Posted on by David Gray

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Not just about Reindeer and Santa Claus, it’s about sharing the joy of family and helping other people be happy everywhere!

I looked the calendar, 6 days to Christmas Eve. Where has the time gone? Can’t put it off any longer, got to get started on my Christmas shopping. Noon, I was out of the office. Got out my list and checked it twice. I headed to the Mall and beyond.

First stop was the ladies apparel store. Next stop, yep, the next ladies apparel shop. Then the specialty gift shop. Next off to the sports store, had to pick up some KC Royals World Series shirts and hats. Next was hardware and home improvement.

This was a good day happening! Every store had many shoppers, gifts, and holiday specials, lots of items to choose from and buy. Some, but not all, had colorful holiday and Christmas decorations.

Remaining on the list were the outdoor items. I had saved the best for last! This is my kind of shopping! I headed to Bass Pro Shops in Independence, Missouri. This is my kind of store! But truth be told, any store with great fishing, hunting and outdoor gear is hard for me to pass up.  I got out my list and headed in. The greeter said, “Merry Christmas” with great sincerity. I think he really meant it. I dove into the list. Rods and reels, lures, a fly box, some fly tying materials, a pair of boots, holsters, targets, a couple of fleece shirts and a mid-weight jacket.  This is my favorite part of Christmas shopping. Outdoor stuff! I would take my time. Maybe I would throw a few items in the cart just for me (somebody has to help Santa).

Suddenly, I stopped. I realized something was different.   I had not seen these in other stores.  Everywhere I looked I saw families, lots of families. Families together, enjoying the season. I saw kids and children and toddlers with smiles. They were playing and having fun. Special kid’s areas were set up with toys just for them. A racetrack was here, a pop gun shooting gallery there, a radio-controlled toy over there, and tables and tables with lots of crayons.

I saw families taking kids to see Santa at Bass Pro. I saw smiles looking at the pictures with Santa. I saw Christmas decorations. When I entered the store I had heard, “Merry Christmas!”

When I left I heard, “Merry Christmas.” I replied Merry Christmas too. Part of the meaning of the Christmas season is to make others feel good.

Thanks Bass Pro Shops, for making families and kids happy.

And Merry Christmas to you Bass Pro Shops.

Thank you Lord.

Want to Change a Generation? Feed Your Kids Fish They Catch

Posted on by Eric Dinger

Eric Dinger is co-founder and CEO of Powderhook.com a website built to help people find access to hunting and fishing spots, trips and events. I originally met Eric thru a mutual friend Kristine Houtman, an outdoor lady and talented writer from Minnesota. Eric is a visionary moving forward with the understanding of how learning to fish and hunt and hike the trails can be a most positive influence in ones life. And today introducing youth to the values and lessons learned in the outdoors are more important then ever. Thanks Eric for sharing your article that was originally published on the Powderhook blog.

PowderhookIn his timeless 1949 classic, A Sand County Almanac, Aldo Leopold famously wrote, “There are two spiritual dangers in not owning a farm. One is the danger of supposing that breakfast comes from the grocery, and the other that heat comes from the furnace.” I recently came across a video that highlights a very real fear I have for my kids – the danger Leopold prophesied over 65 years ago.

My teenage daughter is a pretty normal 15 year-old kid. At any moment she’s a monster cookie of sweet and salty, wit and sarcasm, delightfulness and delinquency. Monster cookies are wonderful, if not unpredictable. But, this cookie comes with one constant: her phone. My goodness she loves her phone. It’s more than a communication device; it’s her hobby, her companion and her lifeline to the minute-by-minute updates she holds so dear.

Generational differences aside, her compulsion for omni-connectedness worries me. Perhaps ironically, it’s my perception of her lack of connection to the tangible world around her that scares me. Much of how we perceive the world comes to us through the conditioning and learning we experience when we’re young. For people like me, those lessens were earned outside. My daughter and many of her friends, normal small town kids, largely view the outdoors as the mundane gap between their indoors – the stuff you drive through on the way to your hockey game. When I rode long distances as a kid, I would count the duck species I saw or try to figure out how many minutes it would take us to get to the next exit. Now, we flip on a movie and ride quietly as our kids stare blankly at one device or another. Gone are the hours of unstructured play, the exploration and outdoor discovery that defined my childhood, in favor of new forms of the same with names like Netflix, Spotify and Instagram. Telling your teenager to go outside and play has become the equivalent of saying “go use your phone where I can’t see you.”

My desire isn’t that my kids grow up to be like me, but rather that they explore, think critically and problem solve. Can these foundations be learned via a screen? My daughter consumes almost every form of content she values via her phone. She need not be curious about the world around her because Google has answers. (with pictures!) Exploration looks a lot like Wikipedia. She knows beef comes from cows, because that’s easy to read on Gawker. But, does she value the farm… the farmer… the cow itself? She’ll cry foul at the site of a feedlot, a judicious member of her outrage culture, but will she care enough to try to understand the complexity of raising enough beef to feed our developing world at a price point they can afford?

In my brief time as a parent I’ve come across only one antidote. Feed your kids fish they catch. The whole process is importantly unscreened. It’s tough to fish with a phone in your hand. Still more difficult to avoid the beauty of a sunset from a quiet boat, the enormity and fragility of nature on full display. (Enter phone for #sunset pic.) Neither Instagram nor Google will tell you how to catch those pesky late-July walleye. After all, if you’re gonna be there you may as well catch a fish! Maybe a parent’s experience with #walleyeprobs can be the start of a richer conversation.

That something must die so you can live is a fundamental of our existence, yet ditching the supply chain in favor of active participation in the food chain can be an emotional experience. It’s complicated to watch a living thing make its way to your plate. The entire lake-to-table experience encapsulates Leopold’s wish for us – that we pay attention to the places and living things around us, and that we are thoughtful about our role as apex omnivores in a fragile ecosystem. As I strive to raise curious, critical-thinking problem solvers, the time we spend fishing has become the one screen through which I’m confident I can connect.

I believe deeper relationships with the world around us are key to the changes we hope to see in every generation. Whether you garden, fish, hunt or forage, take the time to include your kids and maybe you’ll both find that connection.

Leave an Outdoor Legacy

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
  • Outdoor lessons learned early in life build great memories for the future.
  • Take the time to share the outdoors with those you love.
  • Be patient, explain the details, laugh and learn together – strong bonds form.
Big brother, Hunter (R), so proud of his little sister, Anna, who downed her first Missouri deer, a nice doe.

By Larry Whiteley

My 12-year-old grandson, Hunter, and my 10-year-old granddaughter, Anna, were going deer hunting for the first time. Hunter came with me. Anna went with my son, Daron. Hunter is a good name for a young man who enjoys squirrel, rabbit, and dove hunting with his family. Now, he and his sister will learn to hunt deer like their dad had with Grandpa.

The four of them sighted in their guns the week before. Grandpa and Dad taught them what they needed to know to be safe when handling the rifles Grandpa had bought them. They listened intently with wide eyes as Grandpa told him what to expect when out there. They asked a million questions. Grandpa and Dad patiently answered them all.

As they drove to where they were going to hunt on opening morning, it was quiet in the truck. Grandpa glanced at his grandson and said, “What are you thinking about?” “Oh, I am just thinking about everything you taught me,” he said. “I want to get my first deer.” His sister was sleeping curled up next to Dad.

“I know you do,” said grandpa. “But, you and your sister will both discover there is more to enjoy outdoors than just shooting a deer. God created it all for us and the wildlife.” Hunter looked at him quizzically and could not imagine anything better than getting a deer.

They got in their blind. Anna and Dad went off to theirs. Grandpa had Hunter sit between his legs right in front of him. The rifle was on a tripod to steady his aim. They waited silently in the darkness. An owl hooted. Hunter whispered, “What was that?” Grandpa told him and held him close.

Hunter and his wife Molly as they head out out on a family deer hunt.

The sun rose over the hill and shined on the frosted field. The fog lifted from the nearby creek. Birds started fluttering through the trees. Crows began talking to each other. Squirrels scurried through dried leaves. Hunter whispered, “They don’t know we are here. It’s like watching a nature show on TV.” Grandpa smiled. He knew his grandson was discovering there was more to deer hunting than shooting a deer. Anna would learn the same from Dad.

Hunter and Grandpa hear a noise. A young buck peeks out from behind a nearby tree. The deer senses there is someone in the woods with him. He looked toward them and then ducked behind a tree. He peeks around one side of the tree and then the other several times. The two humans never move. The young buck was finally satisfied there was nothing there. He walked away, and a memory was made.

Thirty minutes later, a doe walks into the field. She stops and looks behind her.

Suddenly, an 8-point buck slowly walks toward the doe. When he stops, Grandpa tells Hunter to take a deep breath and squeeze the trigger gently. The sound of gunfire echoed through the valley. Grandpa hugged his grandson and said, “You got it!” Hunter hugged his grandpa.

My grandson Hunter, my son Darren, and yours truly, Grandpa Larry.

Later, they heard another shot in the valley. Anna also got her first deer that day, a big doe. Another memory she will always have of her and Dad together in the outdoors. Both would take many other deer in their years of hunting with Grandpa and Dad. Grandpa told them on the way home, “That is not always what happens on a hunt. Like in your life, there will be more good times than bad. More failures than success.”

That story happened 11 years ago. Hunter grew into a man. Anna became a beautiful young woman. Grandpa goes hunting less than he used to, and it is different now. Sometimes, he goes alone and sits in the woods with his memories. That day in his hunting history remains one of his favorite memories with his son, grandson and granddaughter. There are many more.

Hunter graduated from college, got married, and now lives in Kansas. Dad travels there often to go deer hunting and fishing with his son. Anna also graduated from college, married Drew, and lives in Texas with their dog Max. She no longer goes hunting, but the lessons she learned from hunting, fishing, and the outdoors will guide her in other parts of her life.

Soon, Hunter and his wife Molly will have kids of their own. Hunter, Molly, and their grandpa will take the kids deer hunting and teach them to enjoy the outdoors like Grandpa and Dad did with him. He will show them the deer head hanging on the wall and tell them the story of his first deer.

Hunter and Molly will also take their kids squirrel, rabbit, dove, and turkey hunting. He will share stories of him, their grandpa, and great-grandpa when they did the same thing. Hunter will teach them to be safe and the skills they need. He will tell them there is more to hunting than just killing animals, just like Grandpa did him.

Daron, Ty, Kelly, and Sam are on a recent Florida fishing trip.

The first time he takes his kids fishing, he will tell them about his first fish. Grandpa and Dad were there for that. His high school graduation present from Grandma and Grandpa was a Canadian fishing trip for the three men. Hunter later became an avid bass fisherman. He was a member of his college bass fishing team. He and Molly also fish together. They will with their kids too.

Grandpa and Grandma’s other son Kelly, his wife Lexi, and sons Ty and Sam live in Wisconsin. He loved to go fishing when he was growing up. His family all love to fish and travel to national parks together. When the boys were little, Grandpa and Grandma made many trips north to go fishing with them and spend time at lakes around where they lived. They even went fishing together a few times in Florida.

When Kelly was young, he never went hunting. It was just not something he wanted to do. Dad understood and didn’t push him to try it. A few years ago, Kelly called and said he and Ty wanted to go deer hunting. A few weeks later, Grandpa and Grandma were on their way to Wisconsin with their truck loaded with hunting clothes for both of them, rifles, deer stands, and more.

The morning of the deer hunt, Kelly could not get Ty out of bed to go. He and Dad went anyway. Like Hunter and Anna did several years before, Kelly got his first deer that morning. He beamed with pride. Dad hugged his 6-foot, 4-inch, 230-pound son and wiped away a tear.

Kelly’s quote touches lives around the world.

Today, Kelly is battling cancer. It has not stopped him from fishing and traveling with his family. It has not stopped him from always being positive. He tells everyone, “Take it one day at a time, and put it in God’s hands.” Those words have been a tremendous witness and comfort to others. He knows where he is going when God says it is time, whether sooner or later. He will leave a legacy behind for his sons, whenever that is.

One of the definitions of the word legacy says that it is the long-lasting impact of particular events, actions, and other things that took place in the past or a person’s life.

Let me ask you this question. Will you be leaving behind a legacy for your kids and grandkids?

Stephen Moss once said, “Nature is a tool to get children to experience not just the wider world but themselves.” I believe that to be true. It is a great place to make memories and leave a legacy.

Grandpa thinks often about the legacy of the outdoors he will leave with his family and others when the good Lord calls him home. He does not doubt that his family will all continue their legacy with the outdoors. He smiles, looks to heaven, and says, “Thank you!” A tear runs down his cheek.

 

Autumn of Life

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

Photo courtesy of the Late Joe Forma photo collection.

  • The best part of your life can be found when the trees change color to paint a most colorful and new perspective.
A blue sky through Autumn colors. Photo courtesy Missouri Department of Conservation

By Larry Whiteley

Autumn has always been my favorite season. There is something about its waning days of light and warmth. Colorful trees paint the landscape. A plethora of hunting seasons are underway. Fish feed aggressively. They are preparing for the cold days ahead. Sitting around a campfire looking at a dark night sky filled with millions of stars is magical. The smell of wood smoke from campfires and chimneys drifts through the air.

Geese fly overhead as they head south in their V-formation. They honk reassurance to one another. Squirrels rattle through dried leaves as they dig to bury acorns. The hike up a long, winding hill is worth it when you reach the top and look out over the patchwork quilt of colors that spread out before you. All too soon, the light will be gone. Days will become short. Nights will be long.

Autumn has a deeper meaning for me this year. I recognize my own life is in its autumn years. I am happy to have made it this far. To be right where I am. During my working years, I was paid to communicate the outdoors through written and spoken word. I am blessed to continue that into my years of retirement. My English teacher in high school would not believe one of her worst and shyest students had spent most of their life doing what I had done. I give all the glory to God for giving me the gifts to do that.

I have many good memories of the autumn seasons outdoors with kids, grandkids, and friends. I think about them often when I am outdoors, alone with my thoughts. I also think about our 49-year-old son battling cancer in the summer of his life. He has remained positive through his battle. He says to others, whatever they face in life, “Take it one day at a time and put it in God’s hands.”

Flowering dogwood tree in Autumn. Photo courtesy Missouri Department of Conservation

No matter how old one is, we are always at the edge of the unknown. There is no certainty in life. Growing older gives one a perspective on life we did not have during the earlier parts of our journey. Life becomes more precious when there is much less left of it. The road ahead is far shorter than the road already traveled. Sometimes, I think about my finish line, the end of my story. I do not know how it all turns out. I know I have a lot of living left to do, even if it is only one more day.

I plan to savor however much time I have left, being in God’s great outdoors as much as possible. Getting a big buck is no longer important. Being out there and watching the sun rise over a frosted field is. So is watching a bobcat sneaking through the woods, hearing crows talking to each other up and down the valley, and all the other animals going about their daily lives.

Fishing trips mean more to me now. It is about something other than how many fish I can catch. It is about an eagle perched on a limb high in a tree. Otters playing on the bank. A beautiful sunset shining in the water. A rainbow after a rain. A dad teaching his kids to fish.

I cannot hike nearly as far or as long as I used to. Things I see along the way seem more special now. They are, to me, an addition to my memory bank of life. Each step takes me closer to the end of the trail. The journey will have been worth it, just like in life.

The Beauty of Autumn Sassafras. Photo courtesy Missouri Department of Conservation

When I go camping, the sound of crickets, frogs, and owls is music to my ears. The dancing flames of my campfire are more soothing than ever. When I look up through a star-filled sky toward heaven, I wonder what it will be like when the good Lord calls me home.

Every day matters during this season of life. None of us knows how or when our time on earth will end. When my time comes, I hope it happens while I am in the outdoors that I love instead of a hospital bed.

I have told my wife and kids that I want some of my ashes scattered near the cabin we once owned in a beautiful valley. I also want some scattered near my favorite treestand and some near the creek where memories were made with grandkids. Some of my ashes are to be at Sac River Cowboy Church. A dogwood tree is to be planted over them. God used the gifts He gave me there, too, and my life was changed for the better.

We all know someone who left home one day and never came back. They were not planning for it to be their last day. Winter arrived without warning. The finish line was there. The seasons of our lives do not always pay attention to or go by the calendar. One could be in autumn or winter and not even know it. Why not live each day as if it is your last?

The earlier seasons of life are all about making it in the world. For most of the years preceding autumn, we are gaining knowledge and experience, building a career, establishing a reputation, working hard to earn money, and providing a living for ourselves and family. It seems life is all about achieving, accomplishing, accumulating or surviving.

The autumn colors of the oak tree. Larry Whiteley photo

Our focus changes as the autumn of our life approaches. Our tasks become more inward-oriented. Much of our traditional part of life begins to fade as we enter retirement. We begin to slow down. Our goal now is self-renewal. I could spend my time regretting things I have done and mistakes I have made. I choose instead to be grateful for the forgiveness God has given me. Autumn is a time to change our life.

It is time to look ahead and recognize that your finish line is approaching. Then, choose who you want to be and how you want to live out the remaining years of your life. You will not have control over everything that happens. So what? Face it, and then choose to be someone better.

Miracles happen when we step up to the life we have right here in the muck and the mire of this world and discover we are far more creative and capable than we ever dreamed. Miracles happen when we find that we are far more than who we ever thought we were or were taught to be. Miracles occur when we have the courage to choose to be someone we never thought we could be.

The autumn of life brings us into the evening, where life becomes quieter. It is a season for the soul. We discover a kind of beauty that is only available at this stage of life. We gain new wisdom. We learn to appreciate everything more. We become creative in ways we never thought were possible in our younger years. We become artists, writers and poets. We give back to others. Sometimes, we find God was there all along. We become lovers of life with less time left.

The best part of your life can be found in the autumn of life.

It’s Not Always About the Catch

Posted on by David Figura
  • Chautauqua County, NY, is noted for mega-limits of Lake Erie walleye and monster musky from Chautauqua Lake.
  • Great sunsets with a glass of microbrew beer or local vintage winery tastings are on the usual after-dinner menu.
  • Our group learned a lot about the fun of camaraderie, effective fishing tactics and great walleye recipe ideas. 
Fun fishing on Chautauqua Lake with (L to R), Jerrod Vila, Megan Plete Postol, myself (Dave Figura), and John Childs.

By David Figura

For many, a good time fishing is about how many fish one catches and/or the size of the ones reeled in.

Even more important, though, is getting out on a scenic, soul-soothing lake, river or stream and the company and conversation one experiences with fellow anglers. And if you’re lucky, it includes a great meal consumed from the day’s catch.

The fish cleaning table is where the grins and tactics are shared for long-term memory. Jerrod Vila (L) and myself.

I experienced all that and more at a Chautauqua County Outdoor Media Fish Camp along with four other outdoor writers in early October in this southwestern corner of New York State. The four-day get-together was sponsored by the Chautauqua County Visitors Bureau.

The purpose was to expose us to the celebrated Lake Erie fall walleye and perch fishery, the angling opportunities in nearby Chautauqua Lake where walleye, bass, perch and monster musky are plentiful — and a chance to fly fish on one of the tributaries that flow into Lake Erie this time of year that boast hard-fighting steelhead preparing to spawn. The Lake Erie tributaries along the eastern shore in New York are appropriately known as “Steelhead Alley.”

Much has been written about all three angling opportunities, and I was anxious to try them all. David Barus, the camp organizer, set us up in a quaint cottage on Point Chautauqua just off the eastern shore of Chautauqua Lake, scheduling us with experienced guides and “fishing hosts” for each of our three days of fishing.

Unfortunately, the stretch of warm, dry sunny conditions in the week leading up to our trip resulted in the streams being unseasonably low for the spawning steelhead who chose to stage out in the lake rather than running up the streams. That outing was scratched.

As things worked out, walleye and musky fishing were the offerings, and we had a good time wetting our lines.

I got out on Lake Erie the first day with fellow New York State Outdoors Writer Jerrod Vila, guided by charter boat Capt. Tom Yetzer of Reel Time Charters and his soft-spoken first mate, Randy Hinsken.

Outdoor media communicator, Jerrod Vila, landed the largest Lake Erie walleye of the day with this 28-incher.

Lake Erie, which at times can blow anglers off with high wind and waves, was comfortably calm that day. The wind vacillated around 3-5 mph, the temperature was in the high 70s (unusually warm for that time of year). The skies were sunny and bright. We were bottom-bouncing spinners tipped with worms in 60-80 feet of water. The marks on the fish finder were plentiful, but the bite was slow.

Vila got us all excited as he hooked something big. “Feels like I’m reeling in a cinder block,” he said, straining with his pole as the fish had several pronounced runs.

We were thinking of trophy walleye. Vila, after first catching sight of the fish in the water, changed his mind and announced it had to be a huge lake trout. Once the fish was netted, though, we all laughed. It was a hefty, 30-something-inch blue catfish.

Shortly after, Vila hooked another big fish. This time, it was an appreciable 28-inch walleye, which turned out to be the biggest walleye of the day. We ended up boating several more, keeping a total of six for the tasty fillets. My biggest was a 22-inch ‘eye. I also lost three keepers right near the boat.

Meanwhile, writers Mike Joyner and Megan Plete Postol, also NYSOWA members, brought back two nice walleyes from their excursion on Chautauqua Lake, using a “snap jigging” technique with weighted lures. The remaining writer, John Childs of Texas, who went out himself with Captain Frank Shoenacker (Infinity Charters) on Chautauqua, caught some perch and silver bass, but no walleye.

When we got back to the Air Bnb, Barus was talking about going out to dinner or preparing a meal himself. But Vila, an expert cook when it comes to wild game/fish dishes, wouldn’t have it. He made a quick grocery store run with Plete Postol and came back with crab meat, celery and several other ingredients and spices

This is an 18-inch cooking pan filled with a customized gourmet walleye preparation, as described in the story. Served with couscous, a salad, and a glass of Dry Reisling wine from Liberty Vineyards, it was delightful and enough to feed 10 people!

With the help of writer John Childs from Texas, Vila proceeded to slice the walleye fillets into strips and prepared a filler with the crab meat and other ingredients.

The filler was spooned onto the fillets. The fillets were then rolled up into little coils about 2-plus inches in diameter, placed on a huge frying pan, sprinkled with mozzarella cheese and white wine, and then baked.

I‘d be negligent if I didn’t mention the writers came up with a delicious sauce in a separate pan to drip over Vila’s creation, along with couscous in another pan as a side dish. It all made for a delicious, filling meal.

The following day Childs, Plete Postol and Joyner get out with Capt. Yetzer on Lake Erie with slightly rougher conditions. This time, the three-some boated around 20 walleyes and kept 10.

Vila and I spent our outing that day jigging with weighted lures for walleye on Chautauqua Lake with experienced angler Don Staszcyk. Despite the best efforts by Staszcyk, who repeatedly marked fish on his fish finder in more than 20 different spots, we were unable to hook a single walleye. However, we did boat a number of silver bass and small perch.

On the final day, Joyner had to leave early. The remaining four of us went out with Rob Oram, another experienced Chautauqua Lake angler. We began by trolling for three hours for musky but had no luck. We finished up jigging for walleyes, boating a 22- and a 17-incher,

In hindsight, the beauty of the three outings wasn’t about the catch, although it was appreciable and more than enough to prompt a return to Chautauqua County. It was the chemistry and conversation of the five writers.

I came home with several bags of walleye fillets and insight into several walleye jigging techniques — methods I intend to try out soon on a local lake near me.

Fishing Lake Erie was fun, we filled our coolers with fillets for a special dinner or two at home.

I also picked up some cooking tips for fish, suggestions on improving the offerings of NYSOWA to its members, and solid advice on playing and purchasing an electric guitar and amp. Two of the writers had played in rock bands for years, they said.

Do you say you don’t have the time to get together at a fishing mecca such as Chautauqua County – or any other countless angling destinations in New York State?

Make the time! It’s there waiting for you. Do it with a friend or someone you’d like to befriend.

That’s how deep friendships in the outdoors world start and last.

For more info on lodging, fishing and the area, visit www.TourChautauqua.com.

Their Life, My Lens – A TV Fishing Show for “Abled Kids”

Posted on by Dave Barus
  • Chasten Whitfield is a 23-year-old championship lady angler passionate about helping less fortunate others.
  • “Their Life, My Lens” is a TV Show where Chasten Whitfield asks America to provide support to continue an empowering program. 
  • “Chastenation” is the name of her non-profit program to empower the Abilities, Not Disabilities, of kids and their families with a day-long moment to forget about doctor appointments or therapy and focus on reeling in that fish. To show all kids that they are “good enough.”

By Forrest Fisher

When you move to new places and like to fish, you join groups that bring folks together who enjoy fishing. At a recent Sarasota Salt Strong Fishing Club meeting, vice-president Merlin Troyer introduced the guest speaker, a gracious and humble-minded young lady named Chasten Whitfield. In less than 25 minutes, this young lady changed the view of many in attendance, inspiring them to consider how essentially important the fun of fishing can be to others in need. 

An expert angler and bass fishing champion through high school and college, this young lady impressed every one of the 90 people in attendance. Her welcoming smile and tonal clarity in communication made her an instant hit with the entire audience. Chasten started by sharing that she was inspired and filled with love for sharing the fun of fishing with others – especially others who might never have a chance to learn about fishing. Kids and adults alike.  

Chasten was looking for people that were somehow incapacitated in their life by human ailments, be they physical, emotional, or otherwise. She provided details about her high school and college education and communication classes, learning more about the demands of fishing competitions and the needs filled after winning or simply catching a big fish. She wondered how a similar endorphin effect might apply to help people with ailments. These people might need a spoonful of rescue and fun. 

Her voice and smile filled the church hall with the inspiring tones of human care and love for others. She received an overture of hearty applause several times.   She provided ways to help but suggested that everyone look up the online website. Click the picture below.

Her story is unique and echoes her passion for fishing. At 13 years of age, she purchased her first boat from babysitting earnings, then passed the test for a boater’s license. She detailed how she was often bullied because she was the only girl in her class that fished. Encouraged by her mom to disregard the boo-hoo kids, she entered her first fishing tournament. She won, and surprising everyone, she returned the championship cash winnings to the tournament charity. She continued to demonstrate her capabilities as an angler. At 15, she received the lady’s certified IGFA record catch for her 178-pound tarpon, except she released it. She said, “I just couldn’t kill that fish for the record book.” Applause came. In her sophomore year of high school, she and four lady friends fished their town’s super bowl of tournaments. She paused, then smiled and said, “We won first place. The town turned upside down.” Applause again. 

At 18, she received her USCG Charter Captains license. She said, “At this point, we began to visit schools, girl scouts, and churches to teach the basics of fishing. While teaching, we would talk to kids about the critical issues of bullying and social media. Then, I met Easton during a summer job teaching at a fish camp. Easton has Spina Bifida.”

“After I met Easton, I discovered what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. I immediately contacted a boat company about making a customized boat to accommodate a child-size wheelchair, so I could help kids have an amazing fishing experience. Yellowfin created a hybrid boat that I took to the College Bass Series and FLW Professional Bass Series. It was a good thing.” 

Also, in her sophomore year of high school, Chasten was recruited to the Savannah College Art and Design bass fishing team. They were the only all-girls college bass fishing team at the time. She added, “I now have my Bachelor of Fine Arts in TV and Film from Savannah.” More soft applause. 

Speaking clearly and ever-so humbly, Chasten shared that she was blessed in 2022 to host her own TV show. Her goal was to demonstrate the ABILITIES, not DISABILITIES, of her TV Show guests. She sent in one episode, and the TV Show was signed. She is working to continue her outreach and support program with the help of sponsors, supporters and the general public. 

Visit https://chastenation.com/ to learn more about the program and how you can help. 

You can find her TV show, THEIR LIFE, MY LENS,” on the Pursuit Channel on Wednesdays at 5:30 p.m. and Thursdays at 9:30 p.m. The show appears on Destination America TV on Saturdays at 8:00 a.m. and streaming anytime on Waypoint TV.   

About Chastenation: Founded in 2015, Chastenation was founded by Chasten Whitfield, a 23-year-old angler who proves “it’s more than just fishing.” Our mission is to help give differently-abled kids and their families a moment to forget about doctor appointments or therapy and focus on reeling in that fish.

Mending Lives and Healing Hearts of Youth in Need

Posted on by Bill Frye
  • We share and teach these principles: Respect Yourself, Respect Others, Respect Authority, Respect the Environment.
  • We teach kids to build trust with adults and others.
  • Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches – Please consider helping us plant the seeds of a new life for troubled youth.

By Bill Frye, President – Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches, Inc.

As I write “My Perspective” for our quarterly Rancher Magazine, I am sitting at the dining room table in my home in North Carolina. I drove up after a very busy and engaging Easter weekend with our grandchildren Jackson and Cora Rose. It was a planned getaway as I had much to do with writing, meeting preparations, upcoming evaluations and visits. I just needed to be away from all the hustle and bustle of the office and have some quiet time to put my thoughts in order before reengaging with everyday work. While I truly love what I do, it does at times become overwhelming, and in those moments, solitude can be very healing, especially if you take the time to be still and spend time in prayer. So off to the mountains of North Carolina, I fled, taking with me everything I needed to work on.

Driving alone can be very therapeutic, especially if the traffic is not too bad. Sometimes it allows you to reflect on past events or come up with new ideas on how to move a project forward. However, most of all, it allows me time to give thanks to God for all that has been provided to me and others over the years. This drive was no different because it gave me time to be still and remember the little blessings I somehow overlooked.

As I began my ascent into the mountains, I noticed the variations of colors; the trees were just beginning to produce new leaves as spring was arriving. In the lower elevations, the leaves were fuller and darker in color, and as I drove upward, they became lighter in color and much smaller in size. When I arrived at my home, the trees were still bare, and colder temperatures had not yet allowed new leaves to form. Looking down the mountain, you could easily see the transition. By the end of this week, I am sure it will be much different.

As I stood in my dining room and looked out the window toward the valley below and the brown-leaf-covered landscape, something caught my eye. Growing on the side of the mountain was a tulip plant with three beautiful red blooms. The blooms stood out against the barren landscape that had yet to come back to life after a hard winter. Seeing those tulips started me thinking and remembering how our lives are filled with many blessings.

Like when a child first arrives at one of our summer camps. They sometimes arrive with a frightened look on their faces, scared of the new environment, wondering if they will be liked or accepted. Will they make new friends? Will the counselors be nice? Are those deputies going to be mean? The landscape of their arrival is sometimes barren because of their fear of the unknown. Then, just as those beautiful red blooms changed a bleak mountainside into something remarkable, the counselor’s smile, the deputy’s warm greeting, and the introduction to the new cabin mates melt away the apprehension, and the landscape begins to transition. By the end of the session, it’s like looking down the mountain and seeing the brown winter vegetation becoming lush green vegetation of spring and summer. The child who arrived frightened has blossomed into a happy, smiling camper with new friends and special bonds with their camp counselors and the deputies who spent time with them. As they leave, they carry their own positive memories because of everything they experienced and accomplished.

The same is true for the children who come to live with us at one of our residential campuses. While they choose to come live with us for many reasons, they often arrive with frightened looks, wondering if they will be accepted and liked by the others already living there.  Many arrive with so much emotional baggage from life experiences that they find it difficult to let go of past hurts, disappointments and fears they encountered in their young lives. Their personal landscape is barren and void of hope, with only the fear of the unknown.  However, with the love and support and tolerance found within our ranch community – from our cottage parents to our support staff – kids can become free of their past baggage and discover new life. All with the help of those who are committed to their care and well-being. Then, as they grow up and build lives of their own, they too will be better prepared to face the future not with anticipation and fear, but with resolve and determination.

In this day and age of negative events being broadcast through news programs and social media, the landscape around us often looks barren. In some ways, our country and communities are like my mountain landscape after a hard winter. However, there are blessings to be discovered, and for me, those blessing are found within my family, my beautiful grandchildren, our donors, sheriffs, supporters and alumni who make it possible for our wonderful staff and volunteers to help improve the lives of children who come to us for care.

I pray that each and every person reading this 65th Anniversary edition of the Rancher Magazine discovers the many everyday blessings being provided to children because of your kindness and generosity.

God Bless.

From the publisher of ShareTheOutdoors – About Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches: The mission of the Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches is to prevent delinquency and develop lawful, resilient and productive citizens through a broad range of services. In 2023, the Youth Ranches will serve over 4,000 boys and girls. This charitable, nonprofit organization was founded by the Florida Sheriffs Association in 1957 and operates three residential care campuses along with three summer camps. Additionally, it provides community-based services to as many of Florida’s neglected, troubled children as funds will permit. Voluntary contributions are the primary source of funding, especially thoughtful gifts made through special bequests in wills and trusts. To donate in any of several ways, please visit https://www.youthranches.org/index.php. The Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches, Inc. is nationally accredited by the Council on Accreditation of Services for Families and Children, Inc. and the American Camp Association. If you would like more information about the Youth Ranches, please contact us at 1-800-765-3797, or email us at fsr@youthranches.org.

Please note that the photographs, forms, videos and this editorial copy are the property of the Florida Sheriffs Youth Ranches, Inc. We have requested permission to reprint in order to help others learn about this successful youth program.     

A DIFFERENT KIND OF FATHER’S DAY GIFT LIST

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

By Larry Whiteley

I know there are lots of Father’s Day gift lists out there and you’re probably being bombarded with all kinds of ads and people telling you what to get. Take a little time to read this though, and it could be the best Father’s Day that dad has ever had.   

Father’s Day gifts don’t have to be expensive. They can be a gift you made or had made that is humorous, puts a smile on their face or brings back fond memories.

Here are some ideas any outdoor dad would love to get for Father’s Day because they are all gifts that come from the heart.

Gather up photos of them with a big fish or buck, kids or grandkids, fishing or hunting buddies, etc. Now, get on your computer and go to www.snapfish.com, www.shutterfly.com, www.walgreens.com and others.

Have a wall or desk calendar made using those pictures for their office or workshop. You can even add important dates like birthdays and anniversaries.

Pictures can also be put on mugs for their coffee, mouse pads for their computer desk, key rings for their truck, aprons for fish fry’s or grilling, luggage tags for trips, playing cards for deer camp, t-shirts and sweatshirts to wear proudly, and phone covers they carry with them all the time.

You can also take a cedar or barn wood board and paint “Gone Fishing”, “Hunting Camp”, “I’d Rather Be Canoeing”, “Fishing Guide for Hire”, or maybe “Hunting and Fishing Stories Told Here”. Every time they look at it they will remember you made it for them.

Those same boards, but maybe a little longer, can be made into hat or coat racks using dowel rods and putting an old shotgun shell over it.  Half cedar logs also work for this.  You can also use pieces of deer antlers, old door knobs or tree limbs.

Another idea is to take old used shotgun shells, as well as rifle or pistol shells, and turn them into lamp or ceiling fan chain pulls.  Drill through the spent primer and insert a chain cut to the length you want.  Fill the shotgun shell with BB’s and close the end.  For the spent rifle or pistol shell, you also drill out the primer and feed the chain through the hole. Then insert a bullet back into the open end.

If dad likes to hike or just go for walks, make him a customized hiking stick. I usually wander through the woods until I find a young tree that will never get very big because of overcrowding. Cedar and hickory are my favorites because they are usually straighter and have more character to them. I have even dug up cedars so I can use the root ball for the top of the stick to make it really unique.

Cut to length to fit your dad, sand off rough spots and round the top of the stick.  Next, drill a hole below where his hand would be and run a piece of leather or rope through the hole to use as a strap.  If you really want to make it special carve his name or something special into his hiking stick.

Other unique things you can make him from cedar limbs include paper clip and pen holders, lamps, towel holders and the list goes on and limited only by your imagination.

If dad enjoys feeding and watching birds in the backyard make him a really neat bird house.  Go online and you can find hundreds of bird house plans to go by as well as plans for making a lot of these things.  Since I have made all the items I have written about, if you have any questions feel free to e-mail me at lwhiteley2@basspro.com and I will be glad to help.

Any of these would make a great Father’s Day gift I am sure dad would love to have because you made it for him.  However, if you are limited by skills or creativity, I am betting there is something else he would like to have more than anything.

Call him and say, “Dad for your Father’s Day present I want to take you fishing” or “Dad for Father’s Day, let’s go camping together just you and me”.  It could also be hiking, canoeing, going to the shooting range or a multitude of other outdoor activities.  Even just sitting around a campfire in the woods, near the water or in the backyard would be a great gift.

Sure they will appreciate the store bought gifts or gifts you made, but most dads’ spell love T.I.M.E.  What is most important to them is time with just you or the whole family out enjoying our great outdoors and making memories.

Note: All pictured items made by the author.

The Old Oak Tree

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
  • The old giant Oak Tree was a friend to me and my family, and so many others. 
  • For about 200 years, the old Oak Tree was here for the Osage Indians, the early settlers, the farmers, and us.
  • With thousands of sunrise and sunset moments, this tree shared the character of our land.  
From tiny acorns, old oak trees grow.

By Larry Whiteley

For over 50 years, an old oak tree stood near the corner of our house. It was no ordinary tree. Two oak trees had grown together at the trunk many years ago. It was massive in circumference and stood over 80 feet tall. The shade over our house and the oxygen it produced were invaluable to us. The fall colors of that tree added beauty to our yard.

Six other oaks are in the backyard. Two other oak trees are in front of the house. All are big, all are old, but none as old or as big as the old oak tree. The giant stood out among the other oaks, the maple trees, the redbuds, the buckeye, the dogwoods, and the spruce trees.

The giant old oak was always home to the birds. They built their nests, raised their babies, and sang their songs. The squirrels enjoyed the acorns it produced and also built nests in it. Gathering up all the leaves every fall was a chore. Picking up small limbs that fell in our yard and driveway was a pain. My wife and I both loved that old oak tree.

The Wisconsin birdhouse.

One year I made a birdhouse. I painted it white and then put a Wisconsin red “W” on it. It hung on the side of the tree where we could see it every time we drove up our driveway. It reminded us of our youngest son, his wife, and grandsons living in Wisconsin. When our grandkids that live near were little, they enjoyed a rope swing tied to one of its limbs. It also served as a backdrop for many pictures.

Several years ago, I noticed a hole at the bottom of the tree and fungi growing around the base of it. I called an arborist to come to check it out. He told me it wasn’t anything to worry about and the tree would live for many more years. He was wrong.

The hole kept getting bigger. Black ants moved in and started eating the wood. Fungi kept coming back around the base. I called another arborist. His concern, as was mine, was the possibility of the massive roots starting to rot underground. If that was happening and strong winds or an ice storm came along, the tree could end up crushing most of our house.

A neighbor up the road has a tree-trimming business. We hired him to do the job. I told him to cut it down and leave the wood I could cut and split for our wood-burning stove. Then haul the big logs away.

On the day they were to cut down our old friend, I was out early that morning taking pictures to remember it. I stood there for a long time just looking at it. I admit, there was a lump in my throat and maybe a little tear in the corner of my eye.

As they started, I couldn’t watch. I went to my workshop and tried to keep busy. I turned up the radio. I did not want to hear the saws. When the saws went silent, I stepped out and looked at where the tree used to be. They had already moved and stacked all the logs I would keep. I would now spend a lot of time cutting, splitting, and stacking. The old tree will now keep us warm for several winters.

The beginning of the end.

I had asked for their final cut to be right above where the two oaks had grown together so long ago. The stump was almost six feet tall. I stood on a big rock to get high enough to count the tree rings. I wanted to know how old it was. When I finished counting, I did it again to make sure. It was over 200 years old.

I stood there and imagined a squirrel burying two acorns at this spot back in the early 1800s. Like most squirrels, he probably forgot where he buried them. Maybe the squirrel died before he found them from a Native American Indian arrow. The acorns eventually sprouted and pushed their way up through the soil. The two little trees grew closer together until they eventually became one.

Thinking about that, I went into the house and got on my computer. I started searching for what it was like in this part of America 200 years ago when the old giant old oak started its life. I wondered what that tree could have told me about what it had seen and heard.

It was here when the Osage Indians lived where our home now sits. It was still a young tree when the white settlers came to the land of the Osage. They built cabins and fences out of the trees and cut them down for firewood. It must not have been big enough to use, so they left it alone, and it continued to grow.

The old oak tree in all its majesty.

There were several dark marks on the tree rings. The neighbor said it was where barbed wire fencing was attached to the tree. Counting the rings from those marks to the outside told me there was probably a farm here sometime in the early 1920s. My wife and I have always thought there was a barn here at one time. I have found old rusted wire and nails around the property. The dirt is blacker in some places than in the rest of our land. That tells me there was a farm long ago. 

When we bought the land over 50 years ago, we wanted our house close to the old oak tree. Back then, there were only a few other houses around. I hunted for deer and turkey in the woods behind us. I hunted rabbits in the fields with my sons. I searched for morel mushrooms in the woods. My boys and I caught fish in the pond up the road.

It was quieter then. Now we hear lawnmowers running, dogs barking, and kids playing. Today, no matter which direction we look, there are houses. The road out front can get busy at times. There is no more hunting or fishing around our place. Life here has changed again.

For over 200 years, the old oak tree was there for the Osage, the settlers, the farmers, and us. It was part of their life and part of ours. It was there as our kids and grandkids grew into adults. As my wife and I have grown old, it was always there. Just like the tree, someday we will be gone too.

I go out and visit the tree’s giant stump sometimes. The other day I was there when something caught my eye near the base of the stump in the fertile soil nourished by the decomposing leaves. There, fostered and protected by the decomposing leaves from the old oak tree, were two oak seedlings growing close together. I wondered what they would see in their lifetime. I wondered if they would grow together and become a big old oak tree.

These tree rings can tell us many stories.

The Christmas Day Deer

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
  • An old deer, an old man, an old treestand, and the click of an old muzzleloader.
  • Broken antler tips, a little slump to his back, a limp in his walk – it was a big old buck.
  • The old man and the old deer looked at each other…
The old man sat alone in a treestand on Christmas morning. James Monteleone photo

By Larry Whiteley

It was Christmas Eve Day. Christmas trees and decorations were in every room of the old house. Outside too. Torn wrapping paper was everywhere. It had been a good day.

 The old couple stood at the door hugging their kids, grandkids, daughters-in-law, granddaughter-in-law, and future grandson-in-law as they were leaving. They would all be busy on Christmas Day. The old couple was happy to have spent Christmas Eve with them. They all did remember to wish the older man a happy birthday. Just in case they got busy and forgot to call him on Christmas Day.

 The old couple watched them out the window as they all got into their cars and headed off to their busy lives. Both had tears in their eyes. They talked for a while about Christmas memories from the many years of their marriage. Then, they started cleaning up all the messes and getting ready to go to the Christmas Eve service at their church.

 On the way home from church, the old man asked his wife what they were doing on Christmas Day. She said she planned to start packing away all the Christmas decorations she had been putting up around the house over the last month. He said, “The alternative deer season started today, so I think I will get my old muzzle loader rifle out and go deer hunting. It will be cold, but I don’t care. I am going anyway.”

 His wife wanted to talk him out of it, but she knew he needed this time alone with his thoughts. She told him to be safe, have a good time, and supper would be ready when he got home. Christmas morning, he kissed her as she slept and whispered he loved her. He paused at the door to look back at her sleeping peacefully, then looked up and thanked God for her.

 The old man sat alone in a treestand on Christmas morning. There was no one else out hunting on Christmas Day. They would soon be opening Christmas presents. He thought this was a great way to celebrate his birthday and the birthday of Jesus. His mind took him back to his grandpa and grandma’s old farm. He was born there 76 years ago. He also thought about how much the world has changed since then. He thought about how many of his friends and family were no longer here.

He also thought about the times he messed up and made mistakes in his life. He wished they had never happened, wished he could take all of them back. He knew he could not. He knew God had forgiven him. He believed God gave him the gifts of writing stories and speaking to help others find Him too. God had changed him. He can change anybody.

 Sunlight was beginning to filter through the trees. The frosted field spread out before him and sparkled like tiny diamonds. Fog rose from the creek on the other side. He could hear the sound of flowing water.

 He held the old muzzleloader rifle in his lap. He loved that old gun. It was a 50-caliber Hawken like the mountain men of long ago had used. He loved reading about that era of life in America and watching every mountain man movie ever made. “Jeremiah Johnson” was his favorite. He figured he had watched it at least fifty times or more. He often daydreamed about living back then. To have hunted and trapped and roamed the Rocky Mountains.

 As he waited silently in the darkness, he thought about all the years he had been a deer hunter. Memories of deer hunting with sons and grandkids flooded his mind. Now, they are grown and gone. Busy with their own lives and hunting in other states. It is just him, alone in a treestand with his muzzleloader. “Is this the last time I will be a deer hunter,” he thought. He wipes away a tear.

A fox crosses the field, then stops to scratch himself. The old man has seen and heard these many times over many years. James Monteleone photo
The sun rises over the top of the trees, crows talk to each other, and birds flitter from limb to limb. James Monteleone photo

  The sun rises over the top of the trees, crows talk to each other, birds flitter from limb to limb, and squirrels look for acorns. A fox crosses the field, then stops to scratch himself. The old man has seen and heard these many times over many years. He still loves all of it.

 Getting a deer was always just a bonus to him. At times he needed to get one to help feed his family. Being out in God’s great outdoors was most important. It was all the memories he made with family, friends, and alone in the deer woods.

The old buck crossed the cold creek, then stopped at the edge of the woods. His eyes scan the field. He sniffed the air for danger. He was a wise old buck and had done this before. He had spent lots of years wandering this land. He had watched many of his family grow up here and die here. He turned his head to lick some scars, then slowly started walking into the field, stopping at times to look and smell.

 Out of the corner of his eye, the old man saw movement. Slowly he raised his binoculars and brought the deer into view. It was a big buck. Old like him. A lot of gray around his muzzle. Broken antler tips, a little slump to his back, and a limp in his walk. He was alone now too.

 The old man put down his binoculars. The old muzzleloader stock now rested against his shoulder. He found the old buck in the iron sights and cocked the side hammer back. The old deer heard the click and saw movement. He knew someone was in the tree. He could have raised his tail and fled but did not. He slowly walked through the field. The old man and an old deer on Christmas Day.

Out of the corner of his eye, the old man saw movement. Slowly he raised his binoculars and brought the deer into view. It was a big buck. James Monteleone photo

 After looking through the sights for several minutes at where he planned to shoot, the old man lowered the hammer back down and put the gun back in his lap. The old man and the old buck just looked at each other for a while. The old deer finally put his head down and kept walking. He was waiting for the old man to shoot, but the shot never came. He stopped several times to look at the old man in the tree. Finally, he walked into the woods, never to return to the field. The old man turned his eyes toward heaven and thanked God for all the deer hunting memories and the old deer on a special Christmas Day.

 He lowered his rifle to the ground and climbed down from the tree. He paused to look around the valley he had hunted so many times over many years and then walked toward his truck. It was his last deer hunt. It was his last Christmas Day.

Pete’s Stories – Frog’s Croaking, Owls Hooting & Crickets Chirping

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
  • 98 years young – US Army WWII veteran, full of life and laughs: Life Lessons for us all.
  • Fish tales of the broken braid would keep everyone wide-eyed!
  • Everyone needs to hear the stories about these amazing men and women veterans of the greatest generation. There are not many left.
US Army Tec 5, Gaylord “Pete” Dye, went home to heaven at 98 years young, but he left all of us with life lessons.

By Larry Whiteley

I used to see Pete at church almost every Sunday.  He would be on a bench in the main hallway, telling stories to anyone who would listen.  He knew that I wrote articles for magazines and newspapers about the outdoors.  When he saw me, he always wanted me to come over so he could tell me his fish stories.

Pete would start with, “It was midnight on a hot summer day.  The moon was full, bats are diving in the night sky, and fog shrouds the lake.  I was out fishing by myself in an old wooden boat.  The night was filled with sounds.  Crickets chirping, owls hooting and frogs croaking.  So I take my old fishing rod and throw a top-water bait toward some bushes next to a log.  I let it settle, then start reeling.  It gurgles and wiggles back toward me. Suddenly, a bass, a monster bass, attacks my bait!  It rises from the water with the plug hanging in its jaw.”

Pete would say” I just unhooked that bass and put it back in the water to watch it swim away.” Forrest Fisher photo

Pete always acted out his fight with the bass.  I loved the expressions on his face while he told his story.  Pete would lean back on the bench reeling it in on his imaginary fishing rod.  He would always have a grimace across his face as he turned the reel handle.  His eyes would get big as he described the fish pulling fishing line from his reel.

Sometimes Pete would add to the story with moans about backlashes in his braided line.  He would frown and tell me it required valuable time to untangle.  Then he would smile and proudly tell me that he still got that fish into the boat.  Then he would say, “I unhooked that bass and put it back in the water to watch it swim away.”

Sometimes, he would tell me another story.  It was about another big bass he caught and released, but not on purpose.  “It almost took the rod right out of my hand,” he would say. “When it was close to the boat, it shook loose from the hooks.  I watched it disappear into the darkness of the water.” Of course, like most fishermen, the bass also got bigger each time I heard his story.  Sometimes the bass was so big it was pulling his small wooden boat around.  I listened each time as I had never heard Pete’s fish stories.

Pete is a 98-year-old World War II veteran.  One of “The Greatest Generation.”  He was a U.S. Army paratrooper.  In the European Theater Campaign, he served under General George Patton.  He fought in the Battle of the Bulge and the Battle of Bastogne.  He was also part of the Rhine River Jump.  It is hard to imagine what Pete and all those other men went through fighting for our country.

His daughter Cora told me she flew with her Dad on one of the first Honor Flights for veterans.  Honor Flights are all-expenses-paid trips to the war memorials in Washington, D.C. These flights allow veterans to share this momentous trip with other veterans, remember friends and comrades lost, and share their stories and experiences.

As the plane prepared to land, Cora asked her Dad what it was like back during the war when he was getting ready to land and go into battle.  Pete looked at her and said,  “I don’t know.  I always got on a plane, but I never landed on one.  I was always jumping out of them.”

On Veteran’s Day at church, Pete would bring in a big glass-covered shadow box with all his medals from World War II for all of us to see.  There are many.  He always stood with pride, as all veterans would stand so that we could honor them.  I often saw tears in his eyes as Pete faced the flag with everyone, put his hand over his heart, and we all sang God Bless America.

Up until this year, Pete lived by himself and cooked his meals.  He drove himself to go grocery shopping, other errands, and church every Sunday.  Pete even loved to go out dancing.  He had more energy than most men half his age.  Then cancer reared its ugly head.

Pete is tough.  He is fighting this battle too.  He knows where he is going when his time comes.  I am sure there will be a lot of family and military buddies that will be glad to see him again.  I bet they will get to hear Pete’s fish stories too.

I visited Pete with a friend from our church, Dan Bill, at the home Pete built many years ago.  His daughter Cora seated us in the living room and went to tell Pete we were there.  Pictures of his wife, four children, 10 grandchildren, 25 great-grandchildren, and two great-great-grandchildren were on every wall.  So were pictures of a younger Pete in his army uniform.  The shadow box with all his medals was there too.

I was expecting to see him in bed.  Instead, Pete slowly walked into the room with support from his cane and sat in his favorite chair.  He was glad to see us, but I could tell he was tired and in pain.  We didn’t hear any fish stories that day, but we did hear several war stories.

Every year, we lose more men and women who sacrificed so much for us during WWII.  Less than 30,000 of the 16 million men and women who fought in World War II are still alive.  There won’t be any of them left in a few more years.  Only twenty percent of the 6.8 million men and women who fought in Korea are still alive today.  Veterans like me from the Vietnam era are in their 70s now.  Veterans lucky enough to return home from the Gulf War, Iraq, and Afghanistan came home with scars.  Not just on their bodies but in their minds.

Our kids and grandkids need to hear the stories about these men and women.  When we hear our national anthem, those that kneel need to listen to their stories.  Those who protest and disrespect our flag need to listen to their stories.  Our politicians need to listen to their stories.  Then they need to do everything possible for these men and women.

Stories told among friends are the best. Larry Whiteley (L), Gaylord “Pete” Dye (M), Dan Bill (R)

We all need to take the time to thank our military men and women who served our country or are serving now.  Not just on Veteran’s Day each year.  We need to do it every time we have the opportunity.  If you see a veteran wearing their branch of a military service cap, thank them in some way.  That’s the least we can do for all they did and are doing for each of us.

Every Sunday, when I come in the front door of our church, I still look over at the bench where Pete sat.  I see him in my mind’s eye telling me fish stories.  As I stand before everyone to give the weekly church announcements, I look to where Pete was always sitting a few rows to my left from the front.  I wish he could still be there proudly wearing his World War II Veteran cap.  I miss hearing Pete’s stories. Everyone will.

Special Note: Pete (US Army Tec 5, Gaylord Dye, by real name) went home to heaven last week. I bet he is up there telling stories.

 

 

Saying Grace, a Moment for Special Thanks

Posted on by Larry Whiteley
  • When grilling a steak from a deer, I think about that morning in the deer woods, it is special. 
  • Cooking a wild turkey in my smoker, my mind travels back to a spring morning, a beautiful sunrise, the gobbles. 
  • Saying grace before meals, among other things, is a way to remember God and share special blessings with your family and friends.
A sunrise turkey hunt can offer unforgettable moments. 

By Larry Whiteley

When I was growing up on the farm, saying grace was something we did before a meal.  Our food back then came from my grandmother’s garden or wild plants around the farm.  She gathered eggs from the chickens she raised.  On special occasions, she would kill one and fry it up.  Grandpa raised hogs and butchered them himself.  He cured the meat in a smokehouse and milked the cows by hand.  Almost everything for every meal came from that old farm.  It was important to thank God for what He had provided us.

Today when our family gathers for Thanksgiving and Christmas meals, one of us says grace as we all hold hands and bow our heads.  We don’t always do that at other meals when we are all together.

Saying grace before meals, among other things, is a way to remember God, not our credit card, provided the meal.  Even if you are not a believer, saying grace recognizes the people whose hard work brought food to your holiday table, daily meals at home or eating out: farmers, grocery store clerks, friends, relatives or restaurant chefs.  If you are a non-believer, I would be happy to tell you about a true story that can change your life.

Say grace before a meal. It is a moment of special recollection for me.

Several times I have been asked to say grace at luncheon meetings, banquets, or church.  As a believer, it is an honor to do that.  I always hope that what I say will touch the hearts of those listening and get their eyes on God instead of the depressing evening news or what they are seeing or reading on their smartphones.

I will admit that I don’t say grace before every meal.  At home, it’s just my wife and me.  We usually don’t.  When I go through McDonald’s for a biscuit sandwich to eat on my way fishing, I don’t.  When I stop by Arby’s for a roast beef sandwich after a morning hunt, I don’t.  I should be thanking God before every meal, but I don’t, even though I should.  I don’t know anyone that does.

It is much easier to say grace over the game I have harvested or fish I have caught and prepared for a meal.  Maybe that’s because I have a close connection to them, as grandma and grandpa had on that old farm.  It is hard to have that feeling with pizza out of a box, roasted chicken in a plastic container, a hamburger and fries in a sack, or store-bought groceries.

When grilling a steak from a deer, I think about that morning in the deer woods.  I remember the beautiful sunrise peeking up over the hill.  I remember the frosted field, the crows calling, the birds fluttering through the trees, the squirrels running around looking for nuts, and the bobcat walking by.

I remember when that deer first appeared.  The deer never even knew I was there in the tree.  I remember kneeling beside it, laying my hand on it, and thanking the deer for giving its life to feed my family.  I remember looking up and thanking God for my time in his creation.  I remember field-dressing it and thinking this deer would feed the crows, turkey vultures, coyotes, raccoons, opossums, and other animals.  When I eat any part of that deer, I say grace.

Honor the game you hunt. The connection between the hunter and the game is never closed.

If I am cooking a wild turkey breast in my smoker, my mind travels back to a spring morning and another beautiful sunrise.  Birds were singing while crows were talking to each other as always.  Everything was green, and wildflowers were blooming everywhere.  I heard turkey wings flapping when they flew down from their roost.  My hen decoys were poised and ready in front of my hiding place.  My Jake decoy was near the hens and close enough to make a gobbler want to come in and kick his butt for trying to mess with his ladies.

A gobble came from over the slight rise to my left.  I gave a soft purr with the mouth call I hoped would say to him, “Come on in.  I am ready for you.”

He answered me with a booming gobble.  My heart rate increased dramatically.  I never made another call because he quickly appeared over the rise.  He fanned his tail feathers and puffed out his chest.  It was his way of saying, “Look how handsome I am.”

Then he saw the Jake decoy.  He immediately went over and attacked it knocking it to the ground.  The gobbler stood there over the battered fake Jake and strutted out for the ladies again.  When he came out of his strutting display, my shotgun boomed.  He flopped around for a minute or two.  The hens disappeared over the rise.  It took one gobble, two struts, and a gobbler was on the ground.  It is not always that easy, believe me.

I smooth its bronze feathers in the early morning sun and thank it for feeding my family.  The gobblers fan, beard, and spurs hang on my wall with others.  The smoked turkey breast is another reminder of a great day in the turkey woods.  There was no hesitation in saying grace when I sat down to eat it or the morel mushrooms I found that day.

I always try to remember to say grace before a camp meal, before eating the wild game or fish prepared at home for a meal.

It is the same with fish I catch.  I don’t lay my hand on them and thank them for giving their life to feed my family like I do turkey and deer.  But when I fry, grill, or smoke the fish I caught, I remember when I caught them.  I see the sun or the moon reflecting on the water.  I see the eagle sitting in a tree.  I see the deer at the water’s edge.  I hear the water lapping against the boat or rippling down the stream.  I hear my lure hit the water.

When I am out on a camping trip, I feel close to God.  My meal may not be fish or game, but I try to say grace over my camp meal if it’s just a hot dog grilled on a stick.  As I sit around the campfire, watching the flames flicker and dance with nature all around me, I look up and say thank you.

When I take the life of a game animal or fish, I don’t take that lightly.  I remind myself it is through the gifts He gave me to be a hunter and a fisherman that I was able to take the game or catch the fish.  I will always be thankful to God for the great outdoors He created for me to enjoy my camping, hunting and fishing.  I will always try to remember to say grace before a camp meal and before I enjoy eating the wild game or fish that I have prepared at home for a meal.  Saying grace is the least I can do for all God has done for me.

 

Life Lessons from the Natural World

Posted on by Bob Holzhei
  • Early lessons in life help shape the future of our young people. Teachers can help. 
  • My students taught me that nature and conservation are important in today’s world.
  • The students brought in venison, rabbit, squirrel, and pheasant – suddenly, the world was a better place.
I learned that when we allow students to have a voice in the classroom about nature, the whole world learns to be a better place. My students learned to help each other. Forrest Fisher photo

By Bob Holzhei

I was fortunate to grow up on a family farm in the 1950s, in the outdoors.  I learned many lessons early in life that shaped my future.

Daily chores included sweeping the grain elevator and shoveling oats, wheat, or navy beans into the “pit” where the grain was transferred upstairs into grain bins for storage.

The first lesson I learned was to work up to my dad’s expectations.  If I fell short, there was no supper provided that evening.  True fact.

Books by the author provide a trail to discovering new, life-changing energy and a path to coaching others in a new role. Forrest Fisher photo

It only took one lesson to teach me.

My father was neither mean nor cruel, simply clear of his expectations.  That lesson would shape my future and lead to my graduation from Michigan State University with a bachelor’s and master’s degree.  I became a teacher.

I student taught at St. Johns High School and was eventually offered a teaching position, retiring following 37 years of service there.

Over those years, I learned there are two kinds of smart: book smart and hands-on smart.

The book smart folks went to college while the hands-on smart folks excelled in various skilled trades.  Both types of “smart” are essential, more now than ever!

I taught two classes of hands-on smart students.  I discovered early as a teacher that one needed to meet each student where they were in life to move them ahead.

Each year after meeting a new class, the students would learn to call me “Uncle Bob.” A student asked me, “Hey, Uncle Bob, can we have a wild game after-school dinner feast if we all get our school work in?”

“You bet,” was my reply.

One message I learned was that overcoming adversity leads to realizing new inspiration and linking to new goals. It’s not about fiction – but it is as fragile as a glass in the wind. We must work to keep our goals in front. Forrest Fisher photo

Over those years, the entourage of students taught me a vital teacher lesson.  Instead of prodding the class to get work in, I had the students that finished their work early help those who lagged behind.

The classroom became a dynamic hands-on experience.

The day of the wild game meal arrived, and I had reserved the home economics room to hold the celebration.  The students brought in venison, rabbit, squirrel, and pheasant.  Suddenly, my principal arrived and asked, “How in the hell can you justify this?  I want to see you in my office after school!”

I humbly whispered to him, “Real easy, look over there at that table.  See the boy eating off the other students’ plate?  He didn’t have breakfast this morning and can’t afford to buy a school lunch.”

Still, the principal left the home economics room very angry.

The principal learned that the sweet-smelling aroma from perfectly cooked rabbits, squirrels, and deer can bring folks together to appreciate each other and nature. Forrest Fisher photo

After school, I went to the principal’s office.

“You wanted to see me,” I stated.

“Not anymore.  I don’t know what you do to motivate those losers; just keep doing it.”

I followed with a response.  “Shame on you!  Every student deserves to have an equal opportunity for a good education.  To only focus on the book smart kids whose parents own businesses in town is wrong!”

Another lesson learned from my students!

Wild game food provided a pathway to celebrate accomplishment among my students, leading the way to a much-improved classroom life for everyone.  The principal learned that the sweet-smelling aroma from perfectly cooked rabbits, squirrels, and deer can bring folks together to appreciate each other and nature.

Life lessons have extended to a well-deserved destination when the classroom and conservation come together.

Editor Note – About the Author: Robert E. Holzhei is an inspirational factual and fictional author, he has published more than 425 outdoor travel stories and several motivsational books, including The Mountains Shall Depart (2017), The Hills Shall Be Removed (2018), Canadian Fly-In Fishing Adventure (1993), and Alaskan Spirit Journey (1999). He is the recipient of five national writing awards from the Association of Great Lakes Outdoor Writers (AGLOW), including 1st Place in the Best of Best Newspaper Story, and multiple additional awards for writing (including three presidential awards). He has also been recognized by the Michigan Education Association, the Michigan Outdoor Writers Association and the Michigan Interscholastic Press Association. His books can be found for purchase on Amazon.

 

 

Generations of Soldiers – Thank You!                   

Posted on by Larry Whiteley

By Larry Whiteley

It was the morning of July 4th. A truck with three men pulls into the marina. Their families were still sleeping at the lodge where they were all staying. They get out of the truck and tease each other about who will catch the most fish while unloading their fishing gear. A brilliant orange sunrise lit up the eastern sky as they headed down the ramp to the dock.

The pontoon boat pulled away from the dock. An American flag hung from the bow blowing gently in the breeze. A family of three generations of soldiers celebrated Independence Day by going out crappie fishing. The father was a veteran of the Vietnam War, the son had been in the Gulf War, and the grandson had recently returned from Afghanistan.

They laughed, they smiled, they caught crappie. Between reeling in fish, they talked about vacations they had been on together. They spoke of their beloved family deer camp. They talked about other fishing trips they had been on. They talked about kids, grandkids, and military buddies. Many stories were shared, but none about war and the things they had all seen and been through. They kept all that to themselves.

They talked about the dad, the grandfather, and the great grandfather who had been one of the “Greatest Generation.” The father smiled and spoke about how much he would have loved being there. Fishing and family were important to him. They all kind of felt he was with them that morning and how proud he would have been of each of them for serving their country.

Being a soldier ran deep in this family. Other generations of family members fought in the Korean War, World War I, and even the Civil War. Serving their country was in their blood. It was not something that was expected of you. It was something you wanted to do. It was something you did.

They all stopped fishing to watch two eagles sitting in a nest at the top of a tree. Seeing this iconic symbol of America meant as much to them as the flag waving on the front of the boat. One of the eagles flew from the nest and started circling over the water. It was out fishing too. As it circled in the bright blue sky, it made the distinctive eagle sound which is said to be unlike any other sound in nature. They all knew that an eagle call represents a call to action. Native Americans believe the sound of an eagle gives you courage and life force to overcome your obstacles and fight against your challenge. They had all done that.

The eagle and its mate also reminded them that they had family back at the lodge waiting for them to come to pick them up so they could have a picnic out on the water. They put away their fishing gear and raised the anchor. As the boat idled into the marina, they could see their wives, kids, and grandkids. It reminded all of them of the time when their families were waiting for them when they came home from war. It also reminded them of how blessed they were to make it back home to their families when so many of their buddies did not.

They loaded up food and family and went back out on the water. The flag still waved on the front of the boat. As they motored across the lake, boats pulling water skiers and kids on tubes were everywhere. So were the jet skis. Other families were out having fun on this Independence Day. Most had no idea why we as Americans celebrate this day. No one realized that three generations of soldiers had just passed them on the water. Men like them fought to protect our country’s independence. Men and women like them continue to serve and fight for our country and the freedom of other countries worldwide.

As the pontoon boat continued across the crowded lake, the eagle flew over and circled them again. The kids loved seeing and hearing the eagle. They kept following the eagle until it led them into a quiet, shaded cove away from the crowds, and then it landed in a tree. It was almost like the eagle knew these men were three generations of soldiers and had led them to this place. The other eagle flew in and joined its mate and the families.

They unloaded water toys for the younger kids, a Mickey Mouse fishing rod for the 6-year-old, lawn chairs, and a cooler full of food and drinks. The father started a campfire and got the skillet ready. The other men filleted crappie and threw what was left of each fish out on the water for the eagles, to say thank you. Everyone loved watching the eagles circle the fish while making their sound and then dive down to the water for their special treat. Crappie sizzled in the cast iron skillet as the women got the rest of the food together.

When everything was ready to eat, they circled together as a family, held each other’s hands, and bowed their heads as the father/grandfather led them in prayer. He said, “God, thank you for this special time on this special day. Thank you for the nature you created for all of us to enjoy and care for. Thank you to men like my dad, my son, and my grandson who fought for this nation that was founded upon “In God We Trust.” It saddens me to see our country the way it is becoming. I pray that this nation will turn from its wicked ways and turn back to you. Thank you for the many blessings you have given this family. Amen!”

As they were eating, the 6-year-old told everyone that the eagles were praying too. “What do you mean,” said his dad. “I peeked at the eagles while papaw was praying,” the boy said. They both had their heads bowed while papaw prayed and then raised their heads when he was done and made that sound again.” Everyone looked up at the eagles and smiled. Some looked back at them again and wondered.

The afternoon was filled with talking about memories and making memories. Sitting in the shade, playing in the water, skipping rocks, and much more. The 6-year-old and his grandpa walked up the bank and found a good place for a 6-year-old to fish. Grandpa dug up a worm and put it on the little boy’s hook, then helped him cast it over by a log lying in the water. The bobber went under, and grandpa helped him reel in a little fish. It didn’t matter to the boy what size it was. He had to take it back and show everyone. Another fisherman joined the family that day.

A beautiful sunset lit up the western sky. A great day was coming to an end. They had all caught crappie and had a fun-filled afternoon as a family. They were getting ready to pull up the anchor when the fireworks started across the lake. The flag still waved on the front of the boat with the fireworks as a backdrop. The eagles saw them too. The soldiers all stood at once and saluted the flag. The rest of the family joined them, put their hand over their heart, and all started singing “God Bless America.” The 6-year-old looked up to see his dad, grandpa, and great-grandpa saluting the flag, so he did too. His great-grandpa looked down and saw him. He knew that someday his great-grandson would also hear the call of an eagle.

There would be another generation of soldiers.