November 2009 NewsletterJim Casada
Web site:
www.jimcasadaoutdoors.com Things I Remember About November—And MoreAs anyone who has followed these monthly meanderings closely likely realizes, yours truly ranks in the 99th percentile when it comes to technical ineptitude. I don’t own one of those technological umbilical cords known as a cell phone, and if I have brain cancer it won’t be because of overexposure to whatever evil emanations come out of those tiny tools of the devil. Similarly, while I own a watch (indeed several of them, although the batteries are dead in most if not all these time machines), I seldom wear one. My preference is to operate on turkey time in the spring, deer time in the fall, and my chosen pace the rest of the time. Taking matters a step farther, I’m still in the kindergarten stages of using digital cameras and came into the world of computers kicking and screaming each step of the way. Finally, when enough publications said they wouldn’t take my “stuff” unless it was on a floppy or submitted electronically, I yielded to the inevitable. Or, to be more precise, my wife took a couple of community college computer courses and taught me the little—very little—I now know. All of this traces back, at least in some senses, to my boyhood. It was, I should note, a privileged one in many ways. Ours was anything but an affluent family, but we were rich in other ways. We didn’t own a television, and that meant that once cold began to strengthen and nights began to lengthen in November, books became staunch and rewarding companions. Likewise, there were good family times together doing things such as gathering black walnuts (later, in the depths of winter, we would crack them and remove the luscious, oily meat), listening to Sunday night radio programs, or sharing singularly satisfying food with friends or extended family. We had a telephone, but it was a party line arrangement and even well into my teens I would just as soon march out on the basketball court wearing nothing below my waist other than a jock strap as I would have call some girl. Incidentally, a brilliant but absent-minded teammate offered the semi-streak performance when he stripped off his warm-up bottoms only to discover he had somehow neglected to put on his shorts. November afternoons were filled with squirrel hunting, at least up until Thanksgiving and the arrival of rabbit hunting season. When there was nothing else to do, I could always look for hazelnuts and beechnuts along the river bank, scout for prime forked dogwood stock for making slingshots, take our beagles out for a bit of exercise, or read the latest issue of Field & Stream or Outdoor Life in the local barber shop. The only magazines we got at home were Reader’s Digest and the Saturday Evening Post, but even those general audience publications were devoured with the sort of eagerness only a devoted reader can exhibit. Those longing looks back have floated through my mind in recent days as I contemplate just how complicated my life, and that of most everyone else, has become. As a boy, like it or not, I was a prime example of a minimalist. I didn’t have to ponder what gun to take squirrel hunting or which rod would accompany me on trout fishing trips. I had one gun and one fly rod. Today just getting ready for an outing of most any kind involves enough pondering about proper preparedness to consume an hour which could be better spent in woods or waters. Yet some comforting constants remain, and foremost among them is the enormous measure of pleasure provided by reading. Also, this is one area where I have no regrets whatsoever about having expanded my ownership of stuff. Books are a constant companion and an enduring delight. As these words are being written, thousands of them surround me on all sides, and just looking over my left shoulder at shelf after shelf groaning with works on the southern Appalachians fills my soul, while a look to the right reveals even more volumes on fishing which guarantee me vicarious piscatorial pleasures lie at arm’s reach. I’ve even been blessed enough, on my own, to make some modest additions to the literature of the outdoors. A number of you have been gracious enough to buy my latest book, Fly Fishing in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park: An Insider’s Guide to a Pursuit of Passion. Part straightforward guide, part history, part memoir, and all heart, I consider it the most important book I have ever written. I am scrambling like crazy to promote and market the book (it’s my first-ever venture in self-publishing), and I’m learning as I go. For example, I innocently listed the publisher (which was actually me) as High Country Press, since some sort of name was needed. I liked the image evoked by High Country Press, but it turns out there’s a little weekly newspaper in the Boone, N.C., area with that self-same title. That has led to no small amount of confusion, especially when a couple of reviews have referred readers interested in the book to the Press rather than directly to yours truly. Meanwhile, as I learn, do book signings (check my calendar on the Web site for upcoming appearances), and begin to make contact with retail outlets for the book, I’m at work on others. I’m sadly convinced that the newspaper and magazine market for outdoor-related material, which has already shrunk dramatically, will continue to do so. That means I’ll be directing more and more of my literary energies to books, although my byline will continue to appear in magazines interested in my work. This week will see me conclude the manuscript for a book on the Christmas-related writings of Archibald Rutledge. I haven’t made a final decision on the title, but it will be something along the lines of Christmas at Hampton Plantation: Archibald Rutledge’s Enduring Yuletide Tales. When published it will bring to five the number of Rutledge anthologies I have edited and compiled. He is one of my favorite writers and was incredibly prolific. Also, most of his books are now pricey in the extreme, and many of his fine articles never even found their way into a book. Like all but one of my previous Rutledge collections, it will be published by the University of South Carolina Press. They have done a nice job with the previous Rutledge anthologies published through them. Along those lines, we are in negotiations to have the reprint the one anthology, Bird Dog Days; Wingshooting Ways, they did not originally publish. It has been out of print for some time now and never sold in anything approaching the same numbers as the USC Press books. If you would like to be notified about these books when they appear, just drop me an e-mail note. Before leaving USC Press and my links with them, I want to mention one other forthcoming book. It is actually in printing production at present and will be out in a few months. This is A Southern Sportsman: The Hunting Memoirs of Henry Edwards Davis. The book, scheduled to appear in January, offers insight on a world we have lost. Many of you will recognize Davis as the author of The American Wild Turkey, which is in my opinion the finest work ever written on the subject. There’s plenty of turkey hunting in this book (which is edited by Ben Moise and includes a substantial Introduction by yours truly), but it ranges much more widely—quail, deer, squirrels, crows, and some types of hunting which are taboo today. The latter includes “Hunting the Hooters” (there’s a fine and interesting chapter on hunting owls) and coverage of one of Davis’s great passions, hunting hawks. I think it’s going to be a dandy. Let me know if you are interested in the book. All of that sort of brings us back to where we started; namely, the delights of reading. With that in mind, I thought I’d close with a sort of short list of some of my favorite sporting authors. Since I’m doing this off the top of my head, I’m certain to overlook some, and I’m consciously omitting all the giants of the literature of African hunting. That will be grist for my mill another time. Here are some of my favorites and their books I enjoy best. Robert Ruark—The Old Man and the Boy, The Old Man’s Boy Grows Older, and Horn of the Hunter (some indication of how much I enjoy Ruark is given by the fact I edited two books on him, The Lost Classics of Robert Ruark and Ruark Remembered—both are available through my Web site). Nash Buckingham—The Shootinest Gent’man, Mark Right!, Hallowed Years, Ole Miss. Archibald Rutledge—An American Hunter, Days Off in Dixie, Bolio and Other Dogs, Those Were the Days, Plantation Game Trails, Tom and I on the Old Plantation, Home By the River, and God’s Children (As was noted above, I’ve done several Rutledge anthologies, and three of them, Hunting and Home in the Southern Heartland, Tales of Whitetails, and America’s Greatest Game Bird, can be ordered from me). Tom Kelly—All of his works are great, and a must if you are a turkey hunter. I’m honored to have been a part of The Best of Tom Kelly, and I have that work as well as many others by the Colonel. Jack O’Connor—Although O’Connor’s technical writings are important, the books I enjoy most contain his hunting tales and include Game in the Desert, Sheep and Sheep Hunting, The Best of Jack O’Connor, Hunting Trails on Three Continents, Hunting in the Rockies, and Hunting Big Game. Once again, I’ve given evidence of my devotion to this writer by compiling The Lost Classics of Jack O’Connor, and I still have copies available for sale. Also, in conjunction with Chuck Wechsler, the Editor of Sporting Classics, I am now working on a second O’Connor anthology. As with the Rutledge and Davis books already mentioned, let me know if you want to be notified when the book appears (sometime in 2010). Havilah Babcock—The Best of Babcock, Tales of Quails ‘n’ Such, The Education of Pretty Boy, I Don’t Want to Shoot an Elephant, and Jaybirds Go to Hell on Friday. If you are a bird hunter reading Babcock is a must. Theodore Roosevelt—TR is as enjoyable for the way his words inspire (a singularly welcome contrast to the pabulum we get from modern-day politicians) as he is for the sporting adventures he describes. The Wilderness Hunter and Ranch Life and the Hunting Trail are particularly noteworthy. Russell Annabel—A master of Alaskan tales and dangerous stuff. Safari Press has done a whole series of books bringing together his magazine pieces. Edmund Ware Smith—Funny and able to capture all the special aura of Maine hunting and fishing, his books such as A Tomato Can Chronicle, The One-Eyed Poacher and the Maine Woods, The One-Eyed Poacher of Privilege, Further Adventures of the One-Eyed Poacher, and Upriver and Down all make grand reading. Gordon MacQuarrie—Maybe our finest waterfowl writer (although Buckingham can’t be overlooked). Most of his best tales were collected into three anthologies edited by Zack Taylor. There are others, a bunch of them, and somewhere down the road we’ll return to more suggestions for armchair adventure. For now though, savor the splendor that is November. For me that means dining on venison, looking back to boyhood days when we slaughtered our own hogs, squirrel hunting, enjoying fall delicacies such as persimmons and pecans, pumpkins and cushaws, and the heady nostalgia associated with the Thanksgiving season. As a closing thought, before offering a few recipes as is the norm (all focus on the season this time), Christmas is at hand. To my way of thinking, and it’s shaped by my love of literature, books make wonderful Yuletide gifts. They keep giving year after year, and I’ll mention just two as examples. When I was about 10 years of age, Mom and Dad gave me a copy of Zane Grey’s Spirit of the Border. It was the beginning of my outdoor library, a collection which now numbers thousands upon thousands of volumes, and it still holds a treasured place on my shelves. A few years later Mom found a battered copy of the revised and enlarged edition of Horace Kephart’s Our Southern Highlanders and had it rebound for me. Since then I’ve written on him and am recognized, rightly or wrongly, as one of the leading authorities on his life. Books such as these two have shaped my life and my career while brightening my indoor days and lightening my outdoor ways. If books fill some Christmas gift needs, I hope you’ll give my Web site a careful look. There are lots of volumes, both those I’ve written and edited as well as others, there for your consideration. CHOCOLATE-DIPPED PECANS1 ounce semi-sweet
chocolate Melt chocolate in a cup set into very hot (but not boiling) water. Dip nut halves into chocolate, remove with a fork, and place atop waxed paper. Refrigerate to harden chocolate. Serve with fruit and cheese for a dessert, as an appetizer, or atop vanilla ice cream. You can make much larger quantities multiplying the basic amounts listed above. TOASTED PECANS4 cups pecan halves Place pecans in a jelly roll pan (do not use a dark-colored pan). Drizzle butter over the nuts. Stir until the nuts are well-coated. Sprinkle with salt. Bake at 325 degrees for 30-40 minutes or until lightly toasted. Stir frequently (at least every 10 minutes) and watch carefully to prevent pecans from getting too brown. Place on paper towels to drain. Store in an air-tight container. PECAN CRUNCH SWEET POTATOES1 stick butter or
margarine TOPPING1/3 stick butter,
melted Mix topping ingredients and crumble over potatoes. Bake at 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes or until bubbly and golden brown. ROASTED WILD TURKEY1 medium onion, cut
into chunks Place dressed and cleaned wild turkey in enamel roasting pan. Stuff with onion, celery, carrots and bay leaf. Season turkey with salt and black pepper and rub with margarine. Cover, place in oven and cook at 350 degrees until done. Baste turkey every 20-30 minutes. Check with a meat thermometer to see when done (interior of thickest part of breast should reach 180 degrees). CHESTNUT DRESSING½ cup butter or
margarine Melt butter in skillet and sauté celery, onion, and nuts. Cook slowly over low heat for 10 minutes; stir frequently as this burns easily. Add to cornbread crumbs in mixing bowl. Add beaten egg and broth, mixing well. Dressing must be VERY moist; add more liquid if needed. Season to taste with salt, pepper and sage (omit sage if you wish, which I do). Bake in casserole dish at 350 degrees for 30-45 minutes or until golden brown. NOTE: All of these recipes come from an award-winning cookbook written by my wife, Ann, and me, Wild Bounty. I have copies available, and they make a great gift for an outdoors-loving friend. The book is an attractive hardback with scores of color photos. Thank you for subscribing to the
Jim Casada Outdoors
newsletter. |
|
Send mail to
webmaster@jimcasadaoutdoors.com with
questions or comments about this Web site. |
