Wyoming!

well well well. Wyoming was infinitely better than Montana. Right now I am sitting in the library of the town of Deadwood South Dakota. So while Wyoming has left me for the time being, it is still in my heart. Wyoming yielded me two of the best camping spots I have ever been to, all for the low price of FREE! We also went to the world's largest mineral hot springs, all for the low price of FREE! Currently, Josh and I are into listening to old Fred Penner tapes and going to museums, so we have been on a bit of a learning curve. Apparently Fred Penner is only uncool from age 10 to 20. As we drove the windy mountain roads his old tunes flowed from the cassette deck into the back of my deepest memory drawer and I was delighted to discover that I remembered all of those silly lyrics of his. The Cat Came Back, Ghost Riders in the Sky, Sandwiches are Beautiful. Maybe i have cabin fever, but these songs slay.
Anywho. Back on topic. We are now in the Black hills of the Southern most Dakota state. Here we will witness the grace of the almighty Crazy Horse and those other four lads who got themselves blasted into the shape of a mountain. Apparently there is also a very large series of caves here, so I think we may go spelunking. Hopefully we can run into an underground lake with a pirate ship only to have the whole mountain come crashing down on us.
Oh! One more thing. If you are ever in Cody Wyoming check out the Buffalo Bill Historical Center. Here we were once again greeted with Wyoming hospitality and treated to half off admission by the nice man at the desk. This building of knowledge contained not one museum.. But FOUR! A Buffalo Bill section, A Plains Indians section, A Western Art section and last but most importantly, A Fire Arms museum. The last section may have been my favorite, the coolest gut buster being a Chinese hand canon from the fourteenth century. This little treat was basically a stick with four metal tubes on the end. all of which, at the touch of a spark could inflict serious business. pretty cool stuff.
Ah! I keep forgetting things. Our new friend Mitch. Mitch is from Virginia but lives in Wyoming now after escaping a debilitating coke habit. Mitch runs a salvage yard and for some reason calls everyone Bubba. Mitch's trailer is a refuge for the left behinds of the world, and his pals? I'm not sure if you call them that. Anyway, his Refugees, Duffy and ummmmmm..... Bubba, live with Mitch, trying to help him fix cars. Mitch has a very large truck, with even larger flames. Mitch's wife, has an even bigger truck, with even larger flames. Mitch keeps horses in exchange for auto parts. Mitch trades Mexican migrants truck cabs in exchange for auto body detailing. Mitch trades farmers old mufflers for feeding hay. Mitch may or may not have a criminal record. Mitch was the most helpful man i have met on this journey. Mitch was a Godsend. Mitch fixed our truck for free. But we gave him money anyway. So heres to Mitch. My most favorite Redneck.

Top 5 Skillets of 09

I decided that i needed to make a post completely dedicated to breakfast. So here it is.

The number one skillet award of 09 goes to: The 24 Egg skillet served on a cymbal in Butt Fuck no where Manitoba. Not so much the skillet here as the setting that is important. Here we met one of the most interesting people of the summer. Campsite Dave? road site 24? My dates and names may be off but that really does not matter. We (Our band Failed States and friends Things Change) had found a little parcel of crown land aside the lake on our way up to Dauphin Manitoba. We decided it would be an excellent place to camp with our friends in Invasion on the way back to Regina. All went well and we went to bed with vision of skillets dancing in our heads. Campfire started in the morning, Campsite Dave showed up just as the skillet was getting underway. Out of his white pick up truck he jumped out ecstatically with fishing gear in hand to greet us good morning. After hastily setting up his fishing gear he went back to the pick up for the grand finale. Out of the cab he grabbed two giant home theatre speakers and hooked them up to his homemade rig. So there we sat, at six in the morning, dining on skillets and listening to AC/DC at 1500 watts.

Number two skillet award goes to-Any skillet i made for Miranda early this year. I tricked her into falling in love with me making her delicious skillets every morning for breakfast.

Then i got lazy.

Number three skillet award goes to- The skillet we made on the side of the Qu'Appelle one morning while canoeing after being barked at relentlessly during the night by some rabid Coyote\Wolf\rabid creature. Scary night. Good morning. This was probably wins the tastiest skillet award as it was made with my fresh tomatoes and other garden vegetables, but it still comes down at number three. Better luck next year WolfDOG.

Number four skillet award goes to- Rocky mountain high skillet. Made in the high altitudes near Hunter's Peak just east of Yellowstone. Pristine river water to quench down those delicious eggs wins this skillet the number 4 spot on the charts.

Number five skillet award goes to any accent roofing skillet break with particular attention on the 2009 skillet challenge. Won by yours truly with the help of Aly Brennan. When you don't want to work, there is no better treatment than a skillet. No matter how much restaurant skillets pale in comparison to the homemade kind, they are still 500 times more enjoyable than starting work on time.

Exploring the American Midwest.

At least i think that is what it is referred to. Anyway, Montana and Wyoming is where we are at, me and my pal Josh that is. So, I will begin by stating that Montana is a shit whole where nothing exists except cowboys and ummmm. Nope, that is it. This state, at least where we have been is very sparsely populated. We hit a stretch of highway where for over 100 km there was not a single town. Not even a one horse town, let alone a three or a four horse town. Heck I could have been up for a no horse town even. I woulda been so fucking lucky, but nope, every town has horses. So far on our trip we have explored the Grasslands National Park in Saskatchewan which was very excellent. I have never seen so many mule deer in my life as i had on our hike through those badlands. The next exciting stop was Yellow Stone National Park which was a slight let down. American National Parks have nothing on Canadian Parks. Practically the entire park was shut down aside from the hot spring terraces, which while being very interesting, were no old faithful, which was what i had my sights set on. Back on the road we went were we camped beside the beautiful Clark's Fork River and woke up to make an excellent camp fire skillet. So far today we have made it to Cody Wyoming and from here we are headed to the world's largest hot spring in Thermopolis Wyoming. Wish us luck, because Fuck is it cold down here.

What to do?

So now that i have shot a deer. What do i do? I had never skinned a mammal before, nor have I butchered one. After we loaded the deer into the truck and did a little bit more hunting we took him back to town where I strung it up from the rafters only to realize that i really did not know what i was doing. So i went at it anyway. skinning the deer was actually very easy and i convinced my younger brother to give me a hand. Once we had his shirt off we went right into the deboneing, which was also very straight forward. Cut the meat off the bone. Not rocket science. Now what? I had seen a couple times what the elders would use to smoke their moose meat up north. I highly respected these people i had met on a couple of my adventures. People living off the land and respecting their Earth, with tales that would interest even the most worldly of folk. I figured they certainly must be doing something right. The smokers i had seen consisted of a bathtub type arrangement where the fire would go and then a three sided triangle like structure to funnel the smoke. Now i did not have an entire moose to smoke so i simplified the design a little bit and used a washing machine hub instead of the bath tub. Peanut butter jerky time! I figured i could design a recipe for myself. So i did.

3kg venison, 1 cup teriyaki sauce, quarter cup Worcestershire sauce and balsamic vinegar. two tablespoons pepper, 3 table spoons meat tenderizer, splash of lemon juice, 6 cloves garlic and one whole white onion. Let the meat sit in that for a day then smoke the shit out of it, being careful not to get it to close to the flame.

Life is good when you are eating jerky all the time.

Dream envisioned- Goal achieved.

On saturday i shot my very first deer. Not the largest animal in the forest but it was still a nice three by three buck.

I went out hunting in Weyburn with my friend Kalen, his father and his father's friend. Up at the sixth chime and off for some good old breakfast. Did I mention how much i love breakfast? Well anyway, I love it, I think i may even dedicate my next tattoo to the traditional bacon, eggs, toast and hash. As soon as I punctured the egg yoke with my hashbrowns I knew it was going to be a swell day. So off in the direction of Kalens farm we went. We did a little push in a creek bed before giving up to find somewhere else to try our luck. We were motoring down a prairie trail when off on the horizon we spotted a buck chasing around a doe in the field. The rut is often over by this time of the year but i think with the cold weather those four legged animals might have pushed it back aways. Anyway. this fellow paid zero attention to us. He had only one thing on his mind...sort of like us men i guesse, except if deer had guns we would all be dead.

First we tried to take a shot at him from the road but he up and decided the middle of the section was a better place to hang out. After that we sent Doug to try and spook him over to us on the North side. That didn't pan out either. If that doe wasn't going anywhere neither was he. So finally we went to the south side where the wind was in our favour and walked to within a hundred and fifty yards from him. He could not hear nor see us because of the breeze. I got down on my belly and touched off some rounds from the .243 Savage and hit him in the front shoulder. Not quite in the Engine block but pretty darned close.

Next thing you knew we had him field dressed when another buck popped up on the horizon a hundred yards away. It looked just like the boy i had shot so Kalen grabbed his .303 and took a standing shot at him when the deer did not even notice. The deer kept coming right at Kalen! so he touched off another shot from 30 yards away and down it went. BUT. this was not to be our lucky day. On close examination, Kalen had accidentally shot a mule deer, for which he did not have tags. A very honest mistake, the Muley had smaller ears than normal and the antler configuration screamed white tail. The deer had not been running either which could have been a clear giveaway. So we did the only honest thing we could. We phoned up the local conservation officer to tell our tale. Respecting our honesty, the officer did not charge Kalen and only took the deer away to give to a needy family. Turns out honesty is actually the best policy.

Invaders from the North

Usually the word Invaders is surrounded by negative connotations. For this blog though, that is not the case. If you read the Leaderpost at all you may have noticed a story on this a couple of months back, if not, I have great news for you. When I was a child, I believed the Elk and Moose species to be almost mythical creatures of great treasure. They were animals of the uninhabited North country or of the great Rocky mountains. Historically though, this was not the case. Moose and Elk once roamed all of Saskatchewan, but during a time when rural inhabitants shot much of their own meat, their numbers dwindled. In 1930 Elk hunting had to actually be closed in Saskatchewan so that they would not become extirpated. It seems now however that Moose and Elk are not the mythical creatures I once imagined them to be. They are now making a comeback in southern Saskatchewan.

My friend Brett was hunting south of Moose Jaw this Saturday right near the border when he saw 12 Elk! Then Sunday me and Brett went hunting just a half hour or so East of Regina where we were greeted with the presence of a large cow Moose. The large female was a magical sight in the frosty early morning. Standing by a scattered hay pile, everytime she breathed a cloud of moisture engulfed her head. She stood broadside to us about a hundred and fifty yards away for a couple minutes before she continued on with her journey. Hopefully her belly is just getting started on some baby moose for next spring.

This is excellent news to hunters. Because of the Ministry of Environment's conservation efforts to increase the Moose and Elk populations throughout Saskatchewan, us Reginians may one day be able to hunt Moose right out our back door. Wouldn't that be something.

For the full LeaderPost article- http://www.leaderpost.com/technology/Moose+making+move/2080289/story.html

punked on the morning hunt.

So I went out for a little morning hunt for deer today around the city of Regina. No farther from the city then about ten minutes. I drive around for about 20 minutes without seeing anything and then head down a prairie trail we had found on Sunday where someone had set up a little makeshift tree stand in the bush. I got out of my truck to take a poop when i hear some Hungarian Partridges. Having seen nothing the rest of the morning, i go and open up my gun case to change the barrels on my shotgun and try my hand and convincing some poultry onto the dinner plate. I have a Mossberg five hundred that came with a riffled slug barrel for deer and a smooth bore barrel for shot. So i put in my chicken barrel and walk thirty yards away from the truck where i cross the fence where it sounds like the chickens are hanging around. No sooner do i hop over the fence when i turn to my right and not thirty fucking yards away comes a nice four by four whitetail deer trotting broad side to me. I could have screamed! Easiest shot in the world. I would not have even had to haul the deer back to the vehicle, it was right on the trail! I gave a try at getting back to the Ford for my other barrel before the deer noticed me but i had no such luck. Him and his other two friends who had now joined him quickly jumped the barbed wire and slowly walked just out of range of my peace maker. Such is Murphy's law though as not only could i not get the deer but it turned out the Huns were a good 600 yards away and sound just apparently travels like wildfire in the fall morning.

I suppose it was at least not a total loss. Now i know where the deer are at and i have a tree stand to use. So wish me luck tomorrow morning as i get up bright and early to try to rattle in a buck for the supper table.

Wood smoke

What is it about the smell of wood smoke? Why does it provoke all my fondest memories? Why does the aroma instantly make me happy? Why is it around whenever i am truly enjoying my life? Why does it function as a cloud of comfort for me? Is it some sort of misunderstood mood enhancer? Does it trigger some sort of primordial human emotion? An emotion felt when times were happier long ago. Does it put us more in touch with our ancestors? Or the creator? Some people believe smoke sends our prayers and thoughts to the mysterious over sear in the clouds. The questions are endless, but for me, i am able to narrow it down to one definite answer.

For me, it is but a reminder. A recollection of those moments in time that are truly significant. Sitting around the camp stove with good pals after a long day of moose hunting. Perched on a log at the side of a mountain lake after taking the plunge off the granite cliffs all afternoon. Hanging around the fireplace with my family on Christmas morning. Lighting the stove in the cabin after hammering walleye all day. Not to mention the always common but never inappreciable moments late at night in the backyard with your best friends. Simply stated, All my favorite days culminate in night time campfires With the sweet fragrance of wood smoke always nearby.

Bounty Hunting

The ministry of agriculture announced this week that they will be placing a bounty on Coyotes. Twenty dollars a head is what the government has deemed this predator worth. Although i am not sure how i feel about the idea of putting a bounty on an animal, I don't think i am going to pass up the opportunity to do some coyote hunting. If the government keeps things in check, hopefully the bounty does its job and thins out the population of deer thieves without fulling eradicating them and fucking up the entire ecosystem. However, twenty dollars from the government, A nice pair of mittens and some coyote meat, justifies it enough for me. The idea of eating a coyote probably grosses most people out that live in the westernized world, but there is a huge percentage of the world that would love to stick their nose in a roasted hind leg.... and who are we to say that is wrong.
So on Friday me and some friends went out to the arm river valley to once again try our hand at some hunting. This time around the grouse were not so spooked and i was able to get a few shots off, but apparently i need to work on my aim. We also tried out the predator call that i bought. It makes the sound of a distressed rabbit. I huffed and i puffed and i blew into the reed call and soon enough magpies began to circle overhead, and a crow took a slight dive into the area before realizing that it was inhabited by humans. Some say patience is a virtue though, and i don't have that virtue. After a few minutes i got up, took out the buck shot and put back in the bird shot only to see a coyote russle out from the bushes fifteen feet away. Shucks!

better luck next time i suppose.

press release- http://www.gov.sk.ca/news?newsId=c533b51a-71ad-4e88-a940-370a0670e9d0

Three against the wilderness.

I just finished reading this classic British Columbia wilderness tale today. "Three Against the Wilderness" was an excelent read. A story about Eric Collier and his family, who as pioneers in the late 1920's went deep into the mountanous terrain of B.C. to scrape out a living for themselves. Not just a story of adventure and survival, it is also a story of conservation. Colliers realization that the lack of beavers in the area contributed to the lack of habitat for other wildlife was one of great insight. Whiteman and Indian had long ago trapped out all the beavers before Eric's family entered the scene. With hardwork and vision Eric vowed to bring them back to the area. With his bare hands he rebuilt their dams so that water could once again replenesh the marshes and feed the potential animals. A conservation officer, hearing about the work Eric had done, brought two pair of beavers down from the North country so that with the help of Collier, beavers could once again protect the wetlands. 14 years later beaver populations in the area where high enough that Eric and his son could harvest a hundred beavers ever trapping season. Collier has an excellent story telling ability and is able to conjur the wildness of the mountains and hills for all to share. This story reminded a lot about Saskatchewans own famous conservationist, the famous Grey Owl. If you are interested in the outdoors and love to read then i highly recomend this book for you.

www.ericcollier.org.uk

Regina Beach hunting.

So last weekend me and some pals went out looking for some birds to shoot. Sharp tailed grouse in particular, Saskatchewan's official bird. These birds are pretty prevalent throughout the province but they tend to populate the prairie lands the most. Limits on these birds are 3 a day and 6 in your possession, which would certainly fill more than my freezer. Unfortunately for us though there would be no birds flying into my freezer on this warm November day. The chickens were all very spooked. While we saw maybe six birds during our walk we were unable to get even remotely close to the grouse which are actually known for sometimes flushing out right below your feet before you even realiz they are there.

To hunt these deceiving creatures we made the trek out to the Regina Beach community pasture. The pasture takes up a very significant amount of land(more land than you could hunt in one day) and much of the land is located along the arm river valley. The arm river valley is famously known for sheltering Louis Riel on his way up from America to Batoche to take part in the North West Rebellion. This is a very Beautiful valley with an ever flowing creek, not big enough to paddle down but big enough to present a challenge in crossing it. You can hunt all day in a place such as this, not harvest a single animal and still have one of your most enjoyable days of the fall. The highlight this time was Jenna stumbling upon the sleeping porcupine. Fearing the thought of getting to close, we yelled at the creature to awaken it from it's slumber but it was useless. A dozy [orcupine sleeps sounder than a hungover highschooler. Not easily dismayed, we tossed a stick in its direction and sure enough it took flight. These are pretty slow creatures so its pretty humorous to watch them gallop away from you. It looks more like the slow waddle of an aligator.

All in all a solid day was had. We still managed to put some lead in the air, firing off a couple rounds at the old beer bottle on the fence post, and even a giant four litre jug of piss we found on the side of the road (which was pretty gross, but i must say it looked fantastic when it exploded). Oh and one more thing worth mentioning, the brunch at Regina Beach was able to combine my two favorite foods into one awesome flavour explosion. This was my first experience with breakfast pizza, and if i have any say in it, it certainly will not be my last.

here are a few photos from the excursion. Photo credits go to my friend Jenna Slade.

My Idol

My idol in life is Richard Proenneke. This man captures his attempt to live in the Alaskan Wilderness in three, hour long documentaries. What this man could do with hand tools and a pile of logs is beyond my comprehension. His cabin in the woods is no house, it is instead a work of beauty. For some thirty odd years this man lived in the Alaskan wilderness, cutting himself an existence through the white spruce of an untouched land. Dick did not come back to the cilivized world until the harsh Alaskan winters forced him to at the age of eighty two.

www.dickproenneke.com
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYJKd0rkKss

Wascana trails and fire side cider

In my opinion, Wascana trails is the most beautiful place to visit that is within a half hours drive from the city. If you have not yet graced the trails with your presence then i highly suggest it. last winter we went out there at night to have a campfire and listen to the coyotes. open fires and night time visits aren't allowed at the recreation site but really, whats the harm done when you bring in your own wood to burn.

aaaanyway! yesterday me and my friends Ali and Josh went out in the direction of the trails to shoot some skeet along the way and hike around the river. The mighty wascana was in full rut when we arrived from all the rainfall we have had this month but it was still very tame compared to its ferocious spring white water(which by the way... you can canoe if you hit it at the right time). We took in the sights of the trails, seeing no fawna but enjoying the flora instead then headed back to town for some fireside cider. The previous day saw me bottling my cider reaped from the brances of a lone crab tree along the banks of Wascana lake. Its a little sour but overall its still pretty damn tasty.

Cider pressing link- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0fvkiSHOsY

Wascana trails link- http://www.trailpeak.com/trail-Wascana-Trails-Provincial-Recreation-Site-near-Regina-SK-2717

first picture explanation

the picture from the first post was taken on a canoe trip i did with my friends, Bj, Riess and Adam. We split the distance from crooked to round lake into an evening and morning canoe. Added to that we had a camp out along the shore of the quappelle. The sand bar we found there was honestly world class and made for one of my happiest sleeps this summer. That and there is no better sound than coyotes howling in total darkness. WAIT! There is one thing that is better. Howling wolves. This past week i was able to hear wolves for the first time in my life.... which i will expand on in the next post.

here is one more pic from that eventful canoe trip this summer-

you may be asking, why is that shirtless man so happy? well the answer is very simple. he is BBQing fried balonie right on the canoe while being paddled down the crik.

currently listening to- best of buffy ste. marie volume one.

the harvest king

well here i am with my loving girlfriend, our stray cat turned best friend, Wolfgang, and the harvest i reaped from my backyard and the surrounding countryside this year. I have decided that there really is no better feeling than picking fresh vegetables from your garden and accenting your dinner plate with them. You don't grow a garden because it saves you money, you grow a garden because it puts you back in touch with yourself, your surroundings, the outdoors and most importantly with your food. cultivating your yard is not rocket science, if you want something simple that you do not have to water or really take care of either, plant carrots, beans, onions, lettuce, rubarb and raspberries. These plants require almost no work. If you feel ambitious, plant some corn or some tomatoes. As for me, with some hard work and the help of a few rain barrels, i was able to avoid the grocery store this summer like it was JD's on a Friday night. The rain barrels worked very well and i was able to get away with using the hose only a hand full of times over the whole summer. then again this year wasn't very typical in the precipitation category. even Noah's dinosaurs would be impressed with all the rain we had this year. so without further talkings, here is what you see in the photo.

in this pic we have from my garden-

pickled beans

pickled beats

pickled zucchini

canned salsa

corn

pumpkins

zucchini

potatoes

onions

peas

tomatoes

hot peppers

in this pic from my parents garden i have canned-

sand cherries

oodles of tomato soup

sliced apples

elsewhere-

crap apple cider from a tree along the wascana

crap apple jelly and apple sauce from a tree at the beach

wild hazelnuts picked above my parents cabin on echo

Saskatoon jam and the tastiest fucking wine ever picked from a secret location

currently listening to- the 1970 big sur county folk fest.

first post

Hello children and unmarried men and women. This will be my first blogging adventure. Why i decided to join the blogging wave is beyond me. perhaps i feel i have some knowledge to pass onto others....or not. It may either be that, or my insatiable need to satisfy my giant ego by talking about myself as i sit alone on the couch. I like to think that i can better spend my time rather than squandering it on the Internet, but perhaps that is not the case.

So, onto the purpose of this blog. Sometimes i like to think that i was born in the wrong century. My persona and outlook on life is much more suited to say.... being a voyageur, or a one eyed pirate. That being said, this blog is going to document my attempts at bringing back lost traditions. Past times that have been forgotten by most city dwelling folk my age. It is in these practices that i find the most joy in life and it is these adventures that i will share with you.

currently listening to- Deja Vu composed by crosby stills and nash