Posts Tagged With: Humor

Flashback Friday Bonus! The Electric Fisherman

In last week’s Friday Fish Sticks feature at OwlJones.com, Owl posted a link to a video of a robotic fish and speculated about the potential of expensive, robotic lures. I’m sure there are self-propelled lures out there and I have no doubt that, with the advances in polymers and nano-technology, it won’t be long before we can get rid of all our complicated gear and use tiny cameras to guide a lure into the mouth of a fish, flip a switch and command a tiny motor to tow our quarry to  shore for us.

The thought of robotic lures made me laugh (and shudder a bit) but those who pursue fish have always found ways to put new technologies to use. Inspired by Owl’s $57.00 robotic Rapala, I share a few ads I came across while putting together this week’s edition of Flashback Friday:

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Flashback Friday: Sharing the Memories, Not the Now

We live in an age where just about anyone can quickly, and generally unbidden, share just about anything with just about anyone else, anywhere else. The problem is that, if you make it possible for just about anyone to share just about anything, most of them will.

That’s a lot of sharing.

Digital technology has become cheap and easy, as has much of the entertainment it provides, coming at us faster and faster all the time, but there was a time when it was hard to share what we are doing right this instant and had to settle for sharing what we had done instead.

Why, before we had satellites and wireless signals a guy would have to wait until he got back to camp to call his buddy at the office to brag about his big Labrador brook trout — and only if he was lucky enough to be staying at a camp with a telephone!

That camp phone doesn’t have a dial but it has a hand crank, used to get the attention of an operator, who then dialed the number for you (such service!). Doing it this way must have taken forever! Maybe even as long as a minute and a half. Continue reading

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If I Had a Hammer …

April showers bring May flowers but rain in March brings ice.

Ice coats everything, a half-inch thick or more, and the barn door was not just frozen shut this morning, it was sealed that way. If only I had a hammer.

I used a hammer yesterday. I even remember where it is. It is on the work bench at the back of the barn. Fortunately, I keep another hammer in the truck, behind the seat, just in case.

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Categories: Humor, nature, Winter | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Our 100th Post: Six and a Half Foot Man Eating Salmon!

One Hundred Posts! To mark this milestone, Quill Gordon is pleased to present this exceptionally rare photo of a SIX AND A HALF FOOT MAN EATING SALMON: Continue reading

Categories: Humor | Tags: , , | 12 Comments

Flashback Friday: Opening a Can of Worms

The thing about opening a can of worms is that you can never fit back in the number of worms that came out. They wiggle and they wriggle, spreading slime and bedding all around and for some reason, even though it’s just a bunch of worms, most people do not have generally favorable reactions to such occurrences. Somehow, opening a can of worms has been perceived as something so traumatic that we dare not do it and the phrase has found its way into every day use.

Internet discussion of politics? Can of worms. Ask the members of the Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society what color to paint our oldest cabin, the Parmacheene Belle? Can of worms. Suggest an outright ban on the use of worms at Fish in a Barrel Pond? There’s a real can of worms for you.

Now, I do not personally know anyone who would resort to such a thing but I suppose I can perhaps understand how an angler, especially one who is trolling when things are slow, might think about giving in to the temptation of tipping his fly with a teensy bit of garden hackle, just enough to give the fish ideas but only until things pick up, you know. Why suffer, trying to catch fish on a fly when everyone knows a ten year-old kid with a pocketful of worms will outfish a grown man using a fly most every time.

Worms are as easy to find these days as propane, donuts and cash, but what was a fellow to do back in the old days, before refrigeration and credit card reading technologies?

The answer to that is, he gathered them himself, like a man. Continue reading

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Winter’s Back is Broken (and Mine is a Mess)

Meteorological winter, the coldest (on average) 1/4 of the year, is over. Winter’s back is broken but, as I’ve written before, you can’t shoot winter in the head and put it out of its misery. We must wait as winter kicks and fights with everything it can muster at this late stage of the game, while spring slowly asserts itself, a little bit at a time. Unfortunately, on days like yesterday, when a warm(-ish) breeze from the south brings mild temperatures and rain against driving snow and the cold(-ish) air still hanging on, both seasons end up looking foolish and the dooryard fills with slush.

We’ve had enough snow this winter that we were saying, “yeah, yeah, we get it” about four feet ago and we are ready to move on to the next season, which around here is mud. A lot of barns and other buildings collapsed last month, crushed by the weight of snow. Crews dug and raked as best they could, trying to lighten the loads on other roofs, but poor timing, gravity and uneven weight distribution continued to wreak destruction. Even with the sounds of catastrophe ringing through the valley, it was tempting to look at the roofs under my care, scoff, and say, “Hah! They’ve held more snow than that!”

I admit here and now, that is exactly what I did. Continue reading

Categories: Humor, nature, Rural Life, Vermont, Winter | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Flashback Friday: If the Shoe Fits

The image of a fisherman used by Bass Footwear in the late 1940s is that of a rugged outdoorsman; a guy who looks like he belongs on a rock in the middle of a stream, holding a rather nice brook trout he might just cook up, streamside, as soon as he hops to shore. He’s got the boots to do it in, too. Leaving the issue of his trousers aside, all in all he’s quite a specimen.

Within just a few short years, though, a new kind of outdoorsman was emerging and Bass replaced the man who hopped rocks amid torrents, wearing jodhpurs with tall wool socks rolled over the tops of his boots, with a man who, instead of hopping, evidently pranced.

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Flashback Friday: In Your Hat!

There are a lot of ways to land a fish but I think most people would agree that, for most of the fish they are likely to encounter, using a net is best.

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What are the Odds?

 I see lots of tracks and other signs of animal activity when I am walking in the woods. Those “other signs” are usually poop, although I did see a spot today where a coyote lost its cookies and, believe me, it hadn’t been eating cookies. I came this close to taking a picture of it but didn’t. I kind of wish I had now but it’s probably better for everyone that I did not.

I did, however, take pictures of some other animal signs that I saw while walking through a stand of rather large balsam and hemlock trees.

 

These branch tips, scattered all around, are a sign that a North American Porcupine (Erethizon dorsatus) has been feeding in the tall trees. They will eat bark if they have to, but green branches, especially on a mild winter day, make the climb up worthwhile. Table manners are not high on the list of porcupine priorities and what we see on the ground are the crumbs and leavings from one porcupine’s trip through an arboreal all-you-can-eat buffet.

Now, I have been known to do perhaps just a bit too much thinking while I walk. Once, on the Appalachian Trail in Maine, with a heavy pack* that included fuel and priming paste for my cooking stove along with a generous supply of strike-anywhere matches, I forgot all about running into bears, moose and even humans as I worried about taking a tumble down a steep rock face and hitting bottom, landing on the matches and setting off a small, backpacker-size explosion. With that in mind, you might understand my trepidation as I stood there, looking up into the trees as the afternoon wind kicked up.

 

I just can’t help but wonder if anyone has ever been hit by a falling porcupine (from 30 feet up it has to hurt, even without the quills) and just what are the odds of it happening? I imagine they would be just about the same as me exploding at the foot of a cliff in the Hundred Mile Wilderness but, even so, I didn’t stick around to find out.

*I also used to wonder how many pounds of helium I would have to carry before that pack weighed nothing.

Categories: 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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