"Were You There When"

Time fly's doesn't it?  As a young man, I swore that I'd never be the victim of the time warp that instantly takes a person from 16 to 36.  I can clearly remember adults telling us kids that one day; we'd wake up and wonder where all the time went.  At 36, I find myself struggling to remember all of my outdoor adventures, fellowship among friends and the "if I's" and "what if's" over the past 21 years.  Looking back, I sure wish that I'd written a little more and had enough sense to take a few more photographs.  While only a select few will remember the scattered memories below, I hope my memories will rekindle stories among my fellow outdoorsmen.

Were you there when, "Georgia" floated his hat walking into 151, when I cooked a better seafood gumbo than the Coon Ass's in Buras and the excessive libations at Pluck-A-duck?  Were you there when, we ate MRE's for the entire trip to Pointe Aux Chen and back, Mr. Roboto was the theme song headed to NoDak or the time when Mark blew up the septic system in Crenshaw?  What about the time I tried to take home the bar owner in Watertown, South Dakota or to meet Jody, a fence post and Richard Henry?  Were you there when, Shane didn't like spicy food, Shark showed up in a purple truck and when the lights came on at the LLDC and Clarence Carter was playing?  Were you there when, Jamey Johnson led us down Punkincenter Road, for Justin's "Pane of Glass!" speech, for the first great rib off contest and when G laughed so hard she almost peed her pants? Were you there when, we named Prancer and Dancer, for the time "thun-duck storms" than ran us off the gulfstream or when Whoreleo was accused of being the hired help and wore an animal print Speedo?  Were you there when, Billy set the blind on fire, we took our first trip to "The Valet", when Uncle Drunkie kissed dad at supper and "Fuck" was someone's name? 

Were you there when, she looked like Sandra Bulloch or the trip we did cannon balls off the top of the tuna tower? What about the time Emerson Waters built a high speed trolling lure named the "Sheppopotamus" or when we drank moonshine behind the fish camp and met the people who drove a Ryder truck all the way from Venezuela? Were you there when, I quit my job and relocated to duck camp, the mouse traps woke everyone up, the night Andy couldn't get out of his sleeping bag fast enough or for the plane crash no one believed in?  Were you there when,  we raced around the living room on Grandma's rascal, the time the depth finder was psychedelic and the season that Keystone Light cans were the best teasers in the Atlantic Ocean?  Were you there when, we laughed about "the shocker, the spocker and the show stopper?"  Were you there when, it took all 6 of us to reel in the tuna when we fished out of Venice, when the Cajun's tried to keep us out by burning the blind down or the time we met "One Armed James" in Seadrift?

Were you there when, Millhouse gave prayers in the pit, the night we shaved a lightning bolt into Stupid Dave's hair or to meet Carl The Can Man, Larry The Mortuary and Harriet Tubman?  What about the first annual turnip shooting contest?  Were you there when, the "Hat's Off" burned and almost sank in the Savannah River, the night that AG tried to walk home and ended up in the rental van with steamed up windows or when we found bars called, "The Angry Beaver, The Lone Arranger and The Whipping Post" and the trip that Lone Star beer gave us all headaches and corn nuts seemed to be the only remedy?  Were you there when, we found "wedding cakes" at the grocery store in Tunica or the time that stranger said, "excuse me, are those Under Armor pants your wearing?"  Were you there when, a pirate got punched in the nuts and everyone in the room tried to climb the walls or for the first Carnegie hunt? What about the time we decided beer was more important than doves or when I face planted after killing my first turkey?  Were you there when, a dove hunt left "that girl" sitting on your front porch, when I yelled, "I'll take 5 shrimp-n-grits dinners to go......never mind!" or the night Randy drove 5 hours home because a naked man was laying on his bed? 

Were you there when, we roped the buck I shot to the top of a Ford Escort rental car or the morning I skinned a deer on Kate's front porch and left it's balls on her pillow as a care package?  Were you there when, the reactor had a meltdown, the night I arrowed a shark on Lake Seminole or when we raised all that money for the kids?  Were you there when, I got called to the cockpit and asked if I was a sky marshal, drooled myself all the way to Maryland and for the turkey's that never seemed to work?  Were you there when, we named "The Gonga Money Carrier," randomly met our quail hunters at The Wooden Nickel or for my 500 alarm chili? What about the time the GPS got thrown out the truck window somewhere in MS?  Were you there when, it took me 11 beers to get off of the mountain, we got caught in 4ft rollers on the Tennessee River or for the bull chute, bed breaking escapade?  Do you remember the time there were Canvasbacks, Golden Eyes and Blue Bills everywhere?  Were you there when, Pat use to hit men on the hat button for not sitting still, for the purchase of a pink duck mini magnet, an intergalactic nebulator or when the cat buffet in Jonesboro that gave us all a stomach ache?

Were you there when, Maurice was too weak to drag a deer and I carried it off of the power line on my back? How about the time I accidentally threw Larry Wlodar's keys into Lake Lanier, the day "Moss Bossin" was born and when Ransom Meyers had to pull out Andy's truck that was stuck and strapped to the Ranger that was stuck at Skinny Tree or for Jap Maple Kenco Camellias?  Were you there when, Milhouse gave me a pair of size 13 pink crocks because no one thought I'd really wear them or for the invention of "Swamp Cleats?" How about the time when nobody in camp recognized me because I was wearing a suite, or when we almost flipped my boat over in Louisiana?  Were you there when, we called you "The Haystack Shooter," for the 50mph coyote shot on an unspecified dirt road or when we spent the night jail because of a 50lb doe? How about the time when Wal-Mart didn't believe my fishing rod broke because of a huge fish in the duck pond?  Were you there when, we shot into that huge group of mallards in the woods?  How about the time we ate Thanksgiving dinner at Waffle House or when Dave told us the, "Get On This" story? Were you there when, we released an 8ft alligator in the parking lot, to see a bloody beaver in Fish Pond Drain or when we got "hid like a mother fucker?"

Were you there when, Clay told the story about liking "it" a little musty, when I shot the Canada goose out of the air with a 22LR or when we must have shot 150 turtles at the duck pond?  Were you there when, we coon hunted until midnight and then went to the bar covered in mud, for the trip to NoDak when we stayed with a felon or the girl in MSP that dipped more than me?  Were you there when, a stranger wanted to trade a "buffalo" for some of our ducks in Crenshaw, the night the clerk at the Super 8 in Watertown showed more skin than we asked for or when I met the "GILF?"  Were you there when, we found Charles kissing that fat bar tender in Doland, the sight of thousands of teal getting up off of Earl Slick's place on Currituck Sound or the trip when the locals taught us to mouth call swans? What about the time you called me a pack mule at Bodie Island?  Were you there when, we saw that brand new 60ft Viking hit the bridge at Oregon Inlet, when we had to follow the big boats through 5 footers in the pass, for the trip we visited the old time decoy makers on Chincoteague Island or saw the wild horses that roam OBX?  Were you there when, we met an old sword boat captain while hunting Boston Harbor, enjoyed lobster rolls in Salem or got screwed by a friend in NoDak?

Were you there when, we bought breakfast for all those soldiers in the Atlanta airport or the time we were passing through Memphis and a trucker bought 3 Whoppers and a gallon of milk for a midnight supper or those mottled ducks and whistlers we shot in the marsh?  Were you there when, we found more bars than churches in Max, accidentally wondered into Canada chasing ducks or unwittingly shot those birds just across the South Dakota state line?  Were you there when, Jeff Coats wasn't smiling, the time our guide cooked duck burritos in the blind with a rusty knife and washed it off in the pit water or the time we hunted with a standard poodle?  Were you there when, we learned about shit ditches, flume ditches and bull levee's?  How about the times we shot Knob Creek before the first hunt and at the end of the last hunt or when Lon called a few scrub bushes a tree line and someone actually understood what was drawn on the white board?

Time and nature are beginning to keep me from remembering when I was where when, but................Were You There When? 

"Eiders for Everyone"


We really didn't know what to expect as we started to unload guns and gear off of the skiff onto the breakwater wall in the predawn light. The rocks were covered with slippery green algae and the only thing that saved us from sliding into the cold waters of Boston Harbor were the barnacles that cut our wader boots and cold hands. Adam shouted over the humming 4 stroke engine that powered his boat, "Steve....I want one person out on the point and two others stretched out back to the West about 20 yards apart....make sure you have the last person on the back side because that is where the Scoters will come from."

It felt kind of odd trying to settle in for a hunt with jets screaming over head and Boston proper serving as the backdrop! Nestled into rock crevices and sitting on boat cushions, we sat motionless just as our guide had told us. As the sun began to breach the horizon, the radio given to me came alive. "Steve, you got your radio on?" "Yes sir," I replied. "I'm going to sit back here off of the beach about 1/4 mile. If you knock down a bird and it's not dead, KEEP SHOOTING........these things dive and are liable to come up 500 yards away........It's not like shooting mallards!," Adam said firmly. "Yes sir," I replied. I had been given the same advice and other pointers in the weeks leading up to our hunt by my good friend Justin Harrison.

The first shot came from my right and took me complete surprise! A single immature drake landed on the outskirts of the long line directly in front of Claude. The thunderous roar from Claude's 12 gauge claimed the first Eider of the trip! Flocks of Eiders and Scoters begun to stream off of the ocean and into the harbor. "Out front, here they come......Out front......Out front." I sat still straining my eyes looking toward the horizon trying to find the birds. "Shoot em', shoot em'!" someone yelled from down the line. "Shoot what, I don't see any damn birds!" I was thinking to myself. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM......I turned my head and scanned a line of decoys in front of us just in time to see Tim crumple a mature Eider directly over the decoys.

With Tim and Claude having and Eider a piece and dad having not fired his gun, I yelled to dad, "Move over to the other side.......just get between Tim and Claude!" Dad slowly made his way across the rocks and found a place to stow his gear out of the way. "Here comes 2 birds Dan, get ready," Tim said quietly. A single hen Eider was flying less than a foot above the water and directly down the line of Eider decoys straight toward dad. At 20 yards, her wings began to flutter and with her feet only inches from the water, dad fired the first shot. The bird hit the water hard but, she still had her head up. "KEEP SHOOTING!," I yelled. 4 shots later, dads first Eider was lying motionless on the water.

 

While waiting on Adam to come pick up the 3 birds that layed in the decoys, I poured a cup of coffee in silent celebration of my dad's first Eider. The small radio that Adam gave me at the start of the hunt began to crackle. "Steve, are you there?.......There are a bunch of Eiders behind you toward the beach. When I come toward you to pick up the birds, be ready to shoot," Adam said. Eiders started to trickle out from the inner harbor in front of Adam. Every few birds that came from behind were closer than the group before. When the birds got inside the 45 yard threshold, I got ready to shoot. "SHOOT HIM, SHOOT HIM......IN THE DCOYS!" Tim shouted. I cut my eyes back to the south and a single drake Eider was stretched out landing in the decoys only 10 yards from me. I shifted my weight and turned 90 degrees and squeezed the trigger. "BOOM".......I crushed my first drake Eider at a little over 10 yards. At that moment, the world stood still. I was in a new place, shooting new species of birds with my dad and sharing fellowship with friends!

The action was hot in Boston Harbor that morning........it was Eiders for everyone!

 

Great-Grandma's Buttermilk Pie
 
2 cups granulated sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons all-purpose flour (or 1 tablespoon flour, 1/2 tablespoon cornmeal)
8 tablespoons butter (1 stick), softened
3 large eggs, beaten
Pinch of salt
3/4 cup buttermilk
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon white vinegar
1 piecrust


Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Place the piecrust into the oven and bake for 10 minutes.

Combine the sugar with the flour and cornmeal, if you're using. Cream the butter. Add the sugar mixture to the butter and then stir in the eggs, salt, buttermilk, baking soda, vanilla extract and vinegar.

Pour filling into the partially baked piecrust and bake in the oven uncovered until brown on top and the custard has set, about 45-50 minutes.


Note: feel free to add a pinch of nutmeg or cinnamon if you want to spice up the custard a bit.

"Perfect Light Pays Dividends"

"Meeting Of Minds"

As the summer heat releases its tight grip on the prairie and the humid stagnant air of summer gives way to the first cool winds from the north, wing shooters across the country can no longer ignore the restlessness in their souls. For many, it is time to start locating the gear we left at our buddies houses after last season or to pull the muddy, shot up decoys from the shed and wash them because we failed to do so last year. For others, it’s time to start making lists and scowering the Internet for last minute deals and ammo orders. For a small group of individuals, it’s time to board planes or load trucks and head north to start the hunting season. On the third Thursday of October, I leave the humidity of the south and find myself among the endless corn fields and cotton wood tree lines of northern South Dakota. Every year, 10-15 men gather under 8 common principles to shoot pheasants and join friends from around the country.

These are the principles of the “BCS.”

1. That a good dog is hard to find.
2. That the outdoors may be the only source of clear mind.
3. That I’m never too busy to have a beer with my brothers.
4. That it is never my guide's€, dog's or gun's fault.
5. That my word is my bond.
6. That I would vote and defend this country with my life.
7. That I do good work and stay in touch with my brothers.
8. That before I die, I will teach someone all I know about the outdoors.