OUTDOORS

I’ve reached a stage in life when I enjoy looking back through my many years as an outdoors person, recalling all the great times I’ve enjoyed with friends, many that are no longer around in person but the people and places I knew in past years thankfully are still very much alive in my memory. Now don’t get me wrong, we are living in the ‘good old days’ as far as hunting and fishing goes, and I am thankful for my health and the ability to be an active participant in much of what the outdoor lifestyle has to offer. There are more lakes, more whitetail deer and turkey, and more outdoor opportunities available now than any time in recent history. But after more than six decades of spending time in the great outdoors, I can still vividly recall those years in the late fifties when my love for the outdoor lifestyle was in its infancy.

My dad was an avid frog gigger, and there were far more bull frogs around in the fifties and sixties than today when he was around to go after them. He loved to gig them at night using a ‘grab gig’, and he was very good at it. I can still picture in my mind standing behind him watching him sneak up on a big bellowing bull frog in one of the many farm ponds we had access to. In my mind’s eye, I can see the light reflecting off his bald head and myself taking that bullfrog from him and stowing it away in a tow sack (burlap bag) for cleaning and eating the next day. To this day I consider fresh-caught frog legs dusted with a light flour coating and fried in hot oil a delicacy. Springtime back in the day equated to fresh frog legs as well as many meals of fried catfish.

My dad was one of the first poultry farmers in northeast Texas, and about every 9 weeks, he sold the 14,000 fryers. Raising chickens is a 24 hour per day job, seven days per week. Dad declared a 5 day holiday each time the chickens were sold and in the spring and summer we went up to southeast Oklahoma to a little lake and camped, ran trotlines and enjoyed daily evening fish fries. That first afternoon we were always in a big hurry to get camp set up, which consisted of opening up a big canvas tarp in case it rained and setting up Dad’s ‘cook box’ under the cover adjacent our 1950 model International truck. Spring and fresh fried fish cooked outdoors continue to go hand in hand. The smell of crispy fried fish with fried potatoes, fresh green onions and pork n beans on the side is a rite of spring that I cherish to this day. The day before our outings, my task was to catch perch for cut bait on the trotline and dig some fresh new potatoes for our evening cookouts.

My parents were avid bass fishermen, and most of the fishing was done with a cane pole and live shiner below a cork. My mother did occasionally fish with her knuckle buster level wind reel and steel rod. She had one lure for several years, a baby Luck 13. My job was retrieving the lure on the occasion she got it snagged on a willow limb overhanging the water. Some of those remote ponds back in Red River County were teeming with bass as well as the occasional ‘goggle eye’ perch (Warmouth) that grew big enough to eat one of those big frisky live shiners we fished with. The bass were native, way before the introduction of Florida bass genes, and an honest 5 pounder was considered a whopper. There is something very exciting about watching a cork floater begin to jiggle on the water’s surface and then suddenly disappear when a big largemouth bass decides it’s time to eat! This was way before the term ‘catch and release’ was coined, we caught and cooked fish. Bass are excellent eating, especially what we called yearling bass that were about a foot long. My dad knew nothing about filleting a fish, or if he did I never saw him do it. No, bigger catfish were ‘steaked’ by cutting them crossways into chunks, and smaller fish were always fried whole, bones and all. I remember getting a couple of fish bones lodged in my throat as a youngster. Since I learned how to fillet fish while in my teens, I’ve seldom eaten a fish fried with bones!

As mentioned, those of us that love the outdoors are currently living in some great times. Earlier this morning before sitting down to my PC to pen my weekly ‘visit’ with you, I was out in the woods near my home with box call. I called in and photographed two turkey gobblers, something that could not have occurred when I was a kid. Turkey were stocked in our county a few years ago and appear to be doing very well. It’s common to see the birds out strutting on the field edges each morning during spring breeding season. Trout are stocked each winter in city lakes and ponds across the state and available for anyone with a trout stamp to catch and eat. As a kid, the only trout I saw was in the pages of outdoor magazines. There was a season for whitetail deer back in the late fifties, but their numbers were precious few. Thanks again to a marvelous job of restocking and management by TPWD, the deer boon occurred in the sixties and seventies, and now deer numbers are high widespread over much of the state.

Another sign of spring, then and now, is the opportunity to cook a big dutch kettle cobbler from fresh berries. Dewberries will be ripe in a few weeks and then come blackberries. A kettle full of berry cobbler cooked outside over campfire embers is the stuff great dining moments are made, and I’m eagerly awaiting the end of April and ripe berries. On those boyhood camping trips in southeastern Oklahoma, I remember lots of wild strawberries growing around that little lake we fished. I haven’t seen a wild strawberry in years, but after doing a bit of research I’ve learned they are still common in a few places in Texas. Until next week, here’s wishing you well and hope you can get out and enjoy the outdoor bounty we now enjoy.

Contact outdoors writer Luke Clayton by email through his website www. catfishradio.org.