March 2009 NewsletterJim Casada
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www.jimcasadaoutdoors.com Muddling Through MarchAs these words are being written, it’s snowing outside like nobody’s business. We don’t get much snow here in the Carolinas, at least not any more. When I was a boy growing up in the Smokies there was considerable snowfall almost every winter, and that’s no some semi-senile old codger gilding the lily (or maybe in this case, frosting the lily). There was a lot more snow in the Smokies in the 1950s than there is now. Mind you, I think Al Gore is a buffoon and global warming a liberal hoax, but I do believe in climate change. I just don’t happen to think mankind is the controlling factor in climatic variations, and for what is worth, history bears me out in a big way. At any rate, I’m glad to see what promises to be a pretty significant snow. My granddaughter may get to build a snow man, she will certainly get to miss school, and since her “Mimi” (Ann, my wife) is at their home, there will certainly be good, hearty eating of some kind and maybe even a bowl of snow cream. For my part, I’ve got some fine barbeque made from a wild hog I killed in Tennessee back in the fall; sweet taters so full of sugar they ooze brown sweetness when oven baked; and corn, crowder peas, and limas I grew back in the summer. I’ve even got plenty of reliable Coleman cooking appliances if the power goes out, so I’ll fare just fine in the household food line. Still, the two previous paragraphs notwithstanding, there’s a madness to March which is anything but pleasant. I gave old Will Shakespeare rather short shrift in my high school and college days, and that had nothing to do with teachers and everything to do with my mindset. I’ve regretted it ever since, although I have done a good bit to make up for those lost opportunities through reading most of the Bard’s stuff. I also, back in my professing days, spent lots of summers in London and saw plenty of Shakespeare plays. The sweet swan of Avon knew an awful lot about most all aspects of life, and you can garner wisdom from him on everything from picking blackberries to dealing with lost love. In the present context, suffice it to say that he knew what he was talking about when his words warned Julius Caesar to beware of the Ides of March. Mind you, I’m not exactly sure what an “Ide” is, but as a die-hard turkey hunter I reckon that in some way it has to apply to those of us who pursue the sport. Maybe I can ask my good friend Tom Kelly, who in addition to being an absolute master when it comes to writing about turkey hunting, is about as widely read as anyone of my acquaintance. All I know for certain is that March, at least in this part of the world, is a lot like to more disconcerting aspects of turkey hunting. It is full of mischance, misery, missteps (such as when brightly blooming jonquils heralding what seemed to be coming spring find themselves bent low with snow), and yes, madness. In my view, the most notable positive feature March offers is that it is a prelude to April. In my part of the world, and in two of the sports I love best, April is, to borrow an over-used word from today’s youngsters, awesome. It means gobbling turkeys, trout rising to dry flies, wild flowers blooming, gardens greening up, and joy in the air. There’s only one day of the year, at least for me, which can rival the opening day of turkey hunting. That’s the opening day of dove season, which a good buddy of mine describes as “Christmas in September.” He’s right, but like millions of other members of the Tenth Legion, I get to celebrate another “holiday,” the first day when I can take a gun to the turkey woods, which brings with it a comparable sense of excitement and anticipation. This year, coming spring fills me with even more eager expectation than usual. That’s because know that once spring has come and turkey hunting gone (by the last day of turkey hunting I’m almost as relieved to see the season end as I am anxious to see it begin), three book projects with which I’m intimately involved will come to fruition or be approaching completion. One of them, Pursuit of Passion: An Insider’s Guide to Fly Fishing in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, I discussed in some detail in last month’s newsletter. About all I can give by way of an update is that I’m meeting with folks later this week to finalize essential matters about which I know next to nothing—layout, design, preparing specs to get bids from printers, discussion of how to handle some graphs and technical information which will be included in appendices, deciding on photo support, and the like. It’s exciting, scary (I’m self-publishing for the first time ever), and gratifying. The second one will, in my studied opinion, be a landmark in the annals of turkey-hunting literature. After pecking away and pestering Tom Kelly to the point he probably felt about as plagued and bedeviled as an old gobbler being harassed by a flock of troublemaking crows, a fellow outdoor writer, Jim Spencer, and I have convinced the Colonel to come out with an anthology of his finest work. Mind you, when you talk about “The Best of Tom Kelly,” you are dealing with the richest of literary cream. Unlike struggling scribblers such as yours truly, he doesn’t write anything which is mediocre, indifferent, or what 19th-century hacks referred to as “pot boilers.” Still, Spencer and I both believed, and believed strongly, that the turkey hunting world deserved an anthology of Tom Kelly’s finest stuff. We also agreed (and that’s something of a miracle in itself, since we’ve known each other as good friends for decades and differ on most everything except politics) that the selection of the stories to be included shouldn’t be made by Tom. Accordingly, since both of us know him well, we prevailed on him (again, I refer the reader to the mention of arm-twisting noted above) to let us select what we thought comprised his finest stories. We concurred on far more pieces than either of us thought might be the case, and once committed, Tom plunged into the whole project with his customary verve and vigor. The result will be a big book—well over 30 selections including one entirely new story from the poet laureate of turkey hunting, introductory essays by Spencer and me, and a prologue by Tom. I don’t have a schedule for publication, but the book will be out well before 2009 runs its course. If you want to be notified when the book, which will likely be done in a limited edition format, appears, just let me know. The third book may not appear until right at the end of 2009 or possibly not until the first month or two of 2010, but it will be well worth waiting for. It will be published by the University of South Carolina Press, the same folks who brought out three of my anthologies of Archibald Rutledge material, and university presses are, by their nature and meticulous approach to things like proofreading, tortoise slow. That’s not a complaint; just reality. The book will be A Southern Sportsman: The Hunting Memoirs of Henry Edwards Davis. Those of you who are turkey hunters will recognize the name, because most anyone who knows anything about the literature of turkey hunting recognizes that his 1949 book, The American Wild Turkey, is a classic of the first water. What most readers likely don’t know is that Davis put together a lengthy memoir which touches not only on turkey hunting but on his love of guns, bird hunting (in this part of the world, bird equates to quail), and some fascinating chapters taking us straight into a sporting world we have lost. For example, there’s a chapter on “Hunting the Hooters,” and it has nothing whatsoever to do with scouting missions into dining establishments employing ample-bosomed, scantily clad young women as waitresses. There’s equally intriguing material in a chapter on “Hawk Shooting” (I’m old enough to appreciate this one, because as a boy every hawk was a “chicken hawk” and you shot at them on sight or else answered to your betters), with material on dove hunting, deer, and much more. I’ve known of the manuscript for years, thanks to having written quite a bit about Davis and because my turkey hunting mentor, Parker Whedon, had a typescript of the memoir. Now the energized editorial efforts of a retired South Carolina game warden, Ben Moise (if you haven’t read it, get hold of a copy of his own memoir, Ramblings of a Low Country Game Warden), it will be available. My involvement? I’ve written an Introduction which grows out of long study of Davis, helped a bit with photographs, and tendered the odd piece of probably useless advice along the way. Again, as with Kelly’s anthology, if you want to know about this book when it comes out, just let me know. Meanwhile, while anticipating the forthcoming Kelly book, Davis’s memoir, and of course I hope some of you will be interested in my fly-fishing book as well, you can attempt to deal with the madness of March in other ways. One is certainly by savoring what has, for me, been a lifelong pleasure—reading. I realize my tastes in literature are mind and only mine, but I will offer the names of a few authors who have written on turkey hunting who tell a good tale or offer fine insight. I think, if you like reading about turkey hunting, you owe it to yourself to browse some of their books. In no particular order, some fine tellers of turkey tales, in addition to Henry Edwards Davis and Tom Kelly, are Henry Morgan, Gene Nunnery, Phil Phillips (bet most of you don’t know about him), Frank Hanenkrat, Charlie Elliott, Earl Groves, John McDaniel, and Larry Hudson. All of these fellows write more about the nature of the experience than mere “how to” stuff. There are others, but these are some of my favorites. Finally, since I’m home batching it right now and doing my own cooking, I’ll close with some manly recipes to help you manage matters anytime you feel a bit peckish. After all, a hearty stew, good bowl of soup, or scrumptious serving of chili is mighty welcome in the midst of a March cold spell. All the recipes below come from cookbooks my wife and I have written, and they are available through this Web site. SIMPLE VENISION CHILI1-2 pounds ground or
chopped venison Brown venison and onion. Add tomatoes, beans, tomato paste, water and seasonings. Simmer for 45 minutes or longer for flavors to blend. Serve hot, topped with grated cheese and chives. TURKEY AND WILD RICE SOUP6 tablespoons
margarine Melt the margarine in a large pan and sauté the onion, celery, carrots and mushrooms until tender-crisp. Stir in the flour, salt and pepper and mix well. Add the chicken broth and milk and cook, stirring, until thickened. Add the wild rice and turkey. Adjust seasonings as needed. Simmer until heated through. Makes eight servings. This is an excellent way to use leg and thigh meat from your wild turkey. SQUIRREL AND VENISON STEW2 squirrels Combine squirrel, chicken, venison, celery, onion, salt and pepper. Cover with water. Cook until meat is almost tender. Add tomato juice, corn, green beans, potatoes, carrots and peas. Cook until tender. Remove bones and serve with hot bread. Serves six to eight. VENISON NOODLE SOUP4 cups beef broth Heat broth to boiling and add noodles. In separate pan, brown venison. Sauté celery and onion in butter. When noodles are done, add cooked venison, celery and onion to soup pot. Add garlic with salt and pepper to taste. Simmer for 10-15 minutes. Garnish with fresh chives and Parmesan cheese. Thank you for subscribing to the
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