Jim Casada Outdoors

September 2007 Newsletter

Jim Casada Web site: www.jimcasadaoutdoors.com
1250 Yorkdale Drive E-mail: jc@jimcasadaoutdoors.com
Rock Hill, SC 29730-7638
803-329-4354

September Song, 2007

As regular visitors to this Web site who do me the courtesy and honor of reading my monthly musings know, I’m passing fond of the outdoor writings of the “Old Man’s Boy,” Robert Ruark. It is my considered opinion that his book, The Old Man and the Boy, is the finest single volume of outdoor literature ever published in this country, and two other books, The Old Man’s Boy Grows Older and Horn of the Hunter, aren’t far behind. I’ve read and re-read his material throughout almost all my life, compiled an anthology of some of his previously unpublished stories a decade ago (The Lost Classics of Robert Ruark—you can order it from me through this Web site), and was honored to serve as Editor for a remarkable biography of him which will appear later this fall (Ruark Remembered: By the Man Who Knew Him Best—let me know now if you want to be notified when the book appears, because I’ll have signed copies of both the limited and trade edition available). In short, I’m a huge fan of his writing, though not necessarily the man. In many ways, for all his immense talent, Ruark was a miserable human being.

All of this rather windy prelude leads me to the matter at hand—the month of September. Ruark wrote two delightful pieces bearing the title “September Song,” and in them he celebrated things such as the post-Labor Day departure of “Willies off the pickle boat” (I think they were pretty much of the same breed as those folks where I grew up in the Smokies describe as “Floridiots”), the first bluefish blitz coming close on the heels of falls initial nor’easter, and the delights of dove hunting. All are matters for celebration, and dove hunting in particular is something I truly cherish. As a longtime local buddy says, “it’s Christmas in September.”

Sadly, for the first time in a quarter of a century I’ll miss the opening day dove shoot here, not to mention no less than three other invitations to what in all likelihood will be true popcorn popper hunts. Of course, once I admit that the underlying explanation is that I’ll be hunting whitetails and maybe doing a bit of fly fishing on Canada’s Anticosti Island, any temporary twinge of sympathy you might have had will vanish like puffball spores in a brisk fall breeze. Still, I imagine I’ll manage to wrangle invitations to a few shoots later in the season, and for that matter I have a place or two where I can deal with the grey-winged speedsters by myself.

Thoughts of dove hunting lead me directly to thoughts in other areas—all connected, in one way or another, with this time of year. Old Bobby Ruark didn’t miss much, but there are some subjects connected with September which somehow escaped him. He never wrote anything about bowhunting (he came along before the time of compound bows and the tremendous upsurge in sport’s popularity). Likewise, and this is surprising given his considerable interest in food, Ruark somehow overlooked the joys of cleaning out all the game left over from the previous season’s successes. That was primarily because home freezers, like compound bows, came along later, although I suspect they might have canned or pickled a run of venison from time to time. Finally, just thinking about Septembers as he knew them, as opposed to the way they are today, leads me to one of my favorite exercises (with due apologies to a great singing group, The Statlers), “Do You Remember These?”

At any rate, emptying the freezer, perhaps with one use being a sumptuous, scrumptious meal for a bowhunting camp crowd, can bring great pleasure. At the conclusion of this month’s installment you’ll find a few recipes ideally suited to this approach. Meanwhile, as we move in that direction, see how many of the random recollections below ring a bell with you. In all likelihood the more which bring back warm memories the older you are, and I would urge you to add fond recollections of your own to my list. Here goes—these are memories I either cherish or which remain powerful and poignant.

The above-mentioned Statlers are one of my favorite singing groups of all time. I love their harmony and sound, but the fact that so many of the lyrics strike a responsive chord with me adds to their appeal. They devoted a good many of their songs to nostalgia, such as the one which looks back with longing at the “Class of ’57,” while the title of another one asks the question of the moment, “Do You Remember These?” Like The Statlers, I’m passing partial to walks down Memory Lane, and let’s do just that.

After all, with the heat of dog days, along with withering drought, persisting all too tenaciously, fishing’s slow and the serious part of hunting season still seems a distant, elusive dream. In short, it’s a good time to indulge in a bit of fond remembrance. Here, drawing from my own high country recollections, are a bunch of steps leading to the past as it was in the late 1940s, 1950s, and early 1960s. See how many of them are familiar, for I suspect that no matter where you grew up, many of these prevailed.

Do you remember when?

Fishing line for casting rods was black nylon, and only the final section where the hook or lure was attached was “leader.”
Casting rods were made of steel.
Fish hooks were sold individually (as a boy I paid a penny apiece or got a dozen for a dime), or, if you were flush with cash, you could buy a packet of six snelled Eagle Claw hooks for two bits.
Lots of folks used the soft lead covering for roofing nails as their sinker material, but if you wanted to spend money, sinkers came in little tin boxes with a sliding top.
Fishing floats were homemade, using corks from wine bottles or similar material, and even store-bought ones featured cork instead of gaudy, fragile plastic composition.
It was common to catch, dig, or otherwise procure your own fishing bait in the form of things such as worms, night crawlers, spring lizards, crayfish, hellgrammites, crickets, and minnows.
Boys sold things like Cloverine salve, blackberries, and Grit magazine to get spending money for outdoor equipment.
A cane pole was considered a perfectly respectable piece of fishing equipment.
Duxbak pants, jackets, and caps were considered to be the ultimate in outdoor attire.
You could buy shotgun shells and .22 cartridges individually rather than by the box, and shotgun shell hulls were made of paper rather than plastic.
”Punkin balls” were considered standard ammunition for hunting deer with a shotgun.
No self-respecting boy or man would have been caught dead without a well-sharpened pocket knife ready at hand, and whittling was considered a fine art.
Making and using slingshots was a popular pastime for boys, with the whole process—choosing a perfect fork from a dogwood, carefully whittling it to shape, attached rubber from inner tubes, and fastening the leather patch which held the rock or marble which served as one’s missile—was a pure delight.
Speaking of marbles, do you remember when shooting marbles was an annual rite of spring?
Playing “rolly-bat” in the summer with rules such as catch it on one hope and you are out, catch the ball on the fly and you are out, and of course rolling the ball to hit the bat resulted in a switch in batters.
Any boy who had a single-shot shotgun or a single-shot .22 rifle he could call his own felt rich beyond measure.
When the Poly-Choke for shotguns was all the rage.
When muzzleloaders were called hog rifles.
When bear and boar hunters ranged the ridges in efforts to keep up with their dogs rather than relying on track collars, pick-up trucks, and sophisticated electronic gear.
When buying a gun was simply a matter of having the required amount of money and did not involve paperwork, background checks, identification, and other bureaucratic matters.
When you could find ads advertising hunting guns for sale in the classified section of most any daily newspaper.
When there were relatively few outdoor magazines and the “Big Three” (Outdoor Life, Field & Stream, and Sports Afield) ruled the roost.
When squirrel hunting was immensely popular, in fact, the most popular participant sport in many states.
When seeing a deer was a rarity and when wild turkeys were all but extinct in many areas.
When lots of folks depended in no small measure on the fish they caught and the game they killed for food.
When there were no formal hunter safety courses but most boys received detailed instruction, stretching over years instead of hours, at the hands of their fathers or grandfathers.
When fiberglass fly fishing rods were all the rage, although traditionalists still stuck firmly to their love of bamboo rods.
When lines for fly fishing were made of silk and had to be dried after each trip and treated before the next outing.
When many fly rods, cane poles, and special poles for crappie and bream were equipped with spring-action automatic reels.
When bobwhites were plentiful and every little landowner and farmer seemed to know the whereabouts of half a dozen coveys.
When ‘coon hunters actually shot their prey and then ate it.
When groundhog hunting using small caliber rifles enjoyed considerable popularity.
When cottontails were plentiful and everyone knew someone who had a good pack of beagles.
When posted signs were extraordinarily uncommon and all that was required to get permission to hunt or fish most anywhere was a polite request.
When a summer resident from Florida or elsewhere who bought land and posted it was viewed with considerable disdain.
When there was no camouflage clothing other than Army surplus.
When bowhunting and use of muzzleloaders were both virtually unknown.
When deer hunting was done on the ground rather than from stands.
When red, instead of hunter orange, was worn afield for safety purposes.
When owning a stylish, accomplished pointing dog was the ultimate for many hunters.
When anyone under the age of 16 could hunt and fish, most anywhere in the country, without having to have a license.
When hawks, no matter what species of raptor they might be, were shot on sight as “chicken hawks.”
When there were no coyotes in many areas of the country.
When a goodly number of folks were still fur trappers and when prime pelts fetched meaningful “cash money.”

Those are but a sampling of thoughts that come back to me as I reflect on a lifetime spent hunting and fishing. Most of them represent things which have changed, and changed dramatically. I’m not at all sure a lot of those changes are for the better, but that’s for each of you, as readers, to decide.

Now is the time to clean out any leftover venison remaining from last season (we enjoyed some ground venison cooked up with black beans and some spices last night, sprinkling it over corn chips and covering the lot with plenty of chopped tomatoes fresh from the garden). The same holds true for other game, and there are plenty of ways to go. Fix a pre-season feast for your hunting buddies. Let your wild game be your contributions to a block party. Enjoy a number of fine family meals even as you reminisce about seasons past. Make soup and can or freeze it for future use. Give extras to your local soup kitchen. You get the picture though—it’s time to clean out the freezer. Here are a few recipes which might help you do just that. All come from The Ultimate Venison Cookbook, which you can order through this Web site.

QUICK VENISON MAC

1/1 pound ground venison
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small leek or onion, cleaned and chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes
1 8-ounce can tomato sauce
1 cup water
¼ teaspoon chili powder
1/8 teaspoon cumin
¼ teaspoon sugar
¼ teaspoon black pepper
1 cup uncooked elbow macaroni
3 tablespoons fresh oregano, chopped

In a skillet, brown venison, chopped leek and garlic in olive oil. Be sure to crumble venison as it cooks. Add tomatoes, tomato sauce and water and bring to a boil. Add all other ingredients except fresh oregano and return to a boil. Reduce heat, cover and simmer 15 minutes or until macaroni is tender. Add oregano and serve immediately.

SPECIAL BLUE BURGERS

1 pound ground venison
1 teaspoon Montreal Steak Seasoning
4 tablespoons blue cheese crumbles, divided
1 ½ teaspoons olive oil
1 ½ teaspoons Worcestershire sauce

Gently mix ground venison and steak seasoning and form into four burgers. Make an indentation in the center of each burger and add 1 tablespoon blue cheese crumbles to each burger. Carefully wrap meat around cheese being sure to totally enclose it. Place burgers on platter and drizzle olive oil and Worcestershire sauce over burgers, turning to coat well. Let burgers come to room temperature while grill preheats. Grill 6-7 minutes per side over medium heat. Serve on toasted buns with condiments of your choice, such as lettuce, tomato, pickles and onions.

CHILI IN THE CROCKPOT

2 pounds ground (or chopped) venison
1 medium onion, diced
1 cup fresh sliced mushrooms
1 garlic clove, minced
1 bell pepper, chopped (optional)
2 ribs celery, chopped
2 tablespoons canola oil
2 16-ounce cans kidney beans, rinsed and drained
2 16-ounce cans tomatoes, undrained
1 ½ tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 package chili seasoning or 1 ½ to 2 tablespoons chili powder)
1-3 cups water
Salt and pepper to taste

Brown venison, onion, mushrooms, garlic, bell pepper and celery in oil. Place in crockpot and add all other ingredients. Mix well then cook on medium for 6 to 8 hours. This is a good way to use not only leftover burger but stew mean as well.

VENISON AND CHERRY STEW

1 pound venison stew meat

Marinade:

1 cup dry white wine
3 tablespoons olive oil
½ medium onion, sliced
½ teaspoon dried thyme
1 bay leaf

Other ingredients:

2 slices bacon, cut into small pieces
½ medium onion, chopped
¼ cup flour
1 garlic clove, minced
1 14-ounce can beef broth
1 14.5-ounce can Red Tart Pie Cherries in water
1/8 teaspoon rosemary
1/8 teaspoon thyme
1 bay leaf
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
Salt to taste

Combine wine, oil, onion, thyme and bay leaf in a resealable plastic bag. Add venison cubes and marinate 24 hours in the refrigerator. Drain venison well, remove onion and pat the meat dry with paper towels. Discard onion and marinade.

Fry the bacon in a Dutch oven over moderate heat until almost crisp; removed from pan with a slotted spoon. Add chopped onion to drippings and cook until under (about 3 minutes). Remove from pan with slotted spoon. Add some additional oil if there is not enough bacon grease to brown venison. Dredge the venison in flour, shaking off excess flour, and add venison and brown on all sides. Add garlic and cook until fragrant (about a minute). Return onion and bacon to pan. Add beef broth, juice drained from cherries, rosemary, thyme, bay leaf, black pepper and salt. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer until venison is tender (about 2 hours). Remove lid during last 30 minutes to thicken stew. If needed, add a slurry of water and flour to thicken. Add cherries during last 15 minutes of cooking.

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