Posts Tagged With: hunting

Flashback Friday: Shooting in the Streets Edition

Like so many winter days gone by, last Friday was spent on a tractor, re-arranging piles of snowflakes, as was a good part of Saturday. That’s the excuse we’re using for the failure to post Flashback Friday: Valentine’s Edition, but just between us, there never was such a post to begin with. Stay tuned for upcoming words about winter (spoiler alert: we’re a little tired of it) but, in the meantime, here’s a little something about a time when heavily- armed men roamed the streets of Indianapolis and the sounds of shotguns meant things were looking up.

Two men (behind hydrant and partially obscured behind lamp post) discharging shotguns in downtown Indianapolis.

Two men (behind hydrant and partially obscured behind lamp post) discharging shotguns in downtown Indianapolis.

According to a story by Clare Conley in the December, 1963, issue of Field & Stream magazine, the gunmen in the photo are actually civic-minded folks, members of the Junior Chamber of Commerce, stepping in to save their town from an infestation even worse than zombies.

Shooters Solve the Pigeon Problem!

Shooters Solve the Pigeon Problem!

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Categories: Flashback Fridays, Humor, nature | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Flashback Friday (a few days late), with Some Reservations

I have felt the first stirrings of spring. Winter is nowhere near being done with us yet, snatching away yesterday’s balmy warmth with yet another cold, arctic blast last night, and I am still trying to get caught up with what winter hath already wrought, but I have felt them.

I’ve heard them, too, those sweet trillings of warmer things to come, but it is much too early for peepers and wood frogs and red-winged black birds among the willows. What I have been hearing is the gosh darn phone.

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Categories: Flashback Fridays | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

My Friend, Eugene, and the Medicinal Bear Parts

Word spread a few years ago that the price for bear spleens and gall bladders was way up, due to a renewed interest in Eastern medicine. My friend, Eugene, and his buddy Purly Coutermarche joined forces, determined to cash in on some of that action.

Their first foray into the medicinal quality animal parts market was a complicated affair and involved hiring a pack of hounds as well as crossing state lines. It began with Eugene and Purly following five dogs, at a full run, across two streams, over a hill and through a half mile long bramble patch and that is where it ended, with Eugene catching his breath and having a smoke while he waited for Purly to catch up. Together they sat and listened to another man’s dogs fade into the distance somewhere in the next county and together they sneaked away before that man could find out what had happened. Continue reading

Categories: Humor, Stories About My Good Friend, Eugene | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Careful With That Axe, Eugene

 

My friend, Eugene, has a friend named Purly. Purly has an uncle who owns a camp way the heck back in the hills. The camp is really just a shack by a pond but Purly’s uncle rents it out to city people who come up to hunt. He makes good money with it, too. A few years ago, he let Purly, Eugene and me use it at the end of the season in exchange for doing a little job while we were there.

The camp is primitive,and the latrine is never more than two fifty-gallon drums, stacked on end in a hole, with a board across the rim to sit on. A canvas tarp provides privacy on three sides (the fourth provides a view of the pond) and it has no roof. Each year, Purly’s uncle folds the top of the upper drum over with a sledge hammer, buries the whole mess and digs a new hole somewhere else. Our little job was to fold over and bury that season’s latrine, which was especially full due to heavy rains the week before.

We hadn’t even been there an hour when a red squirrel ran past with one of Eugene’s candy bars in its mouth and disappeared into the woods. Eugene doesn’t like squirrels except for eating, and when it ran by again, this time dragging a Slim Jim, that squirrel became Eugene’s obsession. He set elaborate traps for that squirrel and he threw rocks, cans and knives every time he saw it, but it was persistent and cunning and it generally happened that while Eugene was looking for the squirrel in back of the shack, the squirrel was running around the front with another candy bar. Continue reading

Categories: Humor, Stories About My Good Friend, Eugene, Vermont | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

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