Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
Christmas present and long ago!
Maybe it’s the hustle bustle of the season; the seemingly endless commitments of holiday lunches, dinners and parties. Or maybe it’s the crowds of people on the road and in almost every place I need to go to satisfy my obligations of the season to family and friends. I use the word obligation like it was a chore. It isn’t of course, it’s just that there seems to be so much to do and so little time to do it in, I feel as though I’ve been AWOL from the one place I can be me without working at it.
I enjoy Christmas, I always have. I especially like seeing the grandkids go nuts with anticipation on Christmas morning, waiting their turn to open a gift. I like to watch “She Who Must Be Obeyed” when she opens her gift and give me the look …”I thought we weren’t going to get each other anything,” then hand me a gift.
Seamus just sits and waits for all the fuss to subside, then when he gets to put his head into his stocking hanging on the mantle, his stubby tail goes crazy, making his entire body shake until he digs out the bone or toy.
I’ve been fortunate to only having spent one Christmas in my lifetime away from family. That was Christmas 1968, the year I was in Viet Nam …I guess you could say I was with family then too.
But it all takes a toll on my nerves or sanity or whatever you want to call it. In quiet moments, I think about standing in my Jordan, feeling the force of cold rushing water envelope my legs as I cast to a spot I think holds a trout. No thoughts, no expectations and no agenda. Only the quiet of the valley and the noise of the gurgling water and the splash of a native when my offering is accepted.
It’s just a river, an apolitical entity that expects nothing yet offers total peace.
It’s all good.
TD
Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
Cast farther, Terry!
I came, I saw ….and left the bonefish alive and well.
One day on the flats of Cozumel with a great guide, Alex, gave me a new appreciation for good equipment and why it costs what it does. We didn{t bring ours and relied on the guide to provide it, which he did – and it was Orvis ….Streamline – which I would buy for my grandson so I wouldn´t be too upset if he ran over it with his bike. But, into the wind, for long casts, well, it was challenging. None the less, bonefish were sighted, cast to and hooked, but none were boated.
We cast to barracuda and had them chase the offering all the way to the boat. It was a great day on the water, even sighting a alligator after we got back in the boat from a wade..
It was the end to a perfect five days which included watching Terry Jr. run an Ironman. How he managed to get up the next day to go bonefishing, gave further meaning to being an Ironman.
It was all good.
TD
Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
“You are an Ironman!”
It’s the day before Thanksgiving and tomorrow morning Terry and I will be heading for Cozumel. Terry (Terry Jr) is competing in a triathlon and I’m going along for support – I’ll be the one holding a drink with an umbrella in it as he goes by.
On Monday, we’ve arranged for a guide for a bonefish trip. I’m geeked, but am dumbfounded as to how Terry is going to stand on a platform and cast for six hours after swimming for 2.2 miles, bicycling for 112 miles and running a full marathon. That’s a lot of margaritas; I’ll have to pace myself.
Happy Thanksgiving!
TD
Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
Warmth, security …..fire!
Wood can warm you three times; when you cut it, when you split and stack it and when you burn it. Fire is what brought us in from the cold and there hasn’t been a more important discovery since. A fire is mesmerizing and its fragrance can be pure ambrosia. One “Old Timer” once said that a pine knot thrown on a fire will bring the north woods inside and truer words were never spoken. 
A fire has the ability to fixate those who stare into its flames. Multicolored dancing streams of heat can keep you occupied for as long as they last. It’s a poor man’s therapy session. Fire has a way of putting things into perspective; mountains become small piles of ash and don’t seem as insurmountable by the time the fire dies out. And its warmth is as comforting as a mothers embrace.
We’ve tried to become more efficient in creating fire for heat; we learned that oil, gas, coal and liquid fuel will burn and for a longer time than wood; making it cheaper in some cases. We’ve even learned how to duplicate a wood fore, at least in appearance, with fake logs and flames or gas flames. But for ambiance and fragrance a wood fire can’t be duplicated. Not even close.
There are different types of wood, all of which burn, but hardwoods such as oak and maple or hickory burn longer and if you add a piece of fruitwood, you have a potpourri of magnificent smells. Don’t forget the pine knot.
Campfires are what mark a day outdoors a success. After a day’s hunt or fishing with friends, sitting around a roaring fire warming yourself and drinking something hot that was heated on the fire, seems to sooth tired bones and disappointments caused by missed strikes by elusive trout or thundering grouse as they fly ahead of the number six’s thrown at them. The fire makes things OK and tomorrow something to look forward to.
“Old Timers” tell of huge bonfires built on the banks of frozen lakes to keep warm while spearing pike and other fish. They tell of warming and drying cloths of those misfortunate enough to have gone through thin ice. Every story told of gatherings of people who relish the outdoors has a memory of time spent around a campfire. What would a ghost story be if not told around a campfire?
Building a fire is a rite of passage from parent to child. It’s a big thing to be allowed to start the campfire for the first time. It’s a way of proving your ready to join the club of outdoorsmen who can survive in the woods with a fishhook and string and two matches. The key is being able to start a fire with only two matches. (That is until the advent of the disposable lighter.)
For a youngster, being able to build a campfire means being trusted to use an ax to make kindling, a pocket knife to cut and sharpen a switch for roasting marshmallows and cooking hotdogs over jumping flames. If it was done with only two matches and no blood from a cut finger, wow…you grew a foot that day.
Fires keep the wolves at bay. They are a source of security, warmth and of course, prosperity. There is no one more prosperous than a person sitting in their living room with family and friends in front of a fire in the fireplace. Throw on a pine knot or two and if only for a short while, all is well.
Dogs find comfort in a fire too. Jake, my yellow lab of years gone by, used to lie as close as he could to the fire in a Franklin Stove at the cabin – if the doors were open so much the better. He’d lay so close steam would rise from his coat. When he was warm enough on one side, he’d turn over. I still have hat picture in my mind even though Jake has been gone for long time.
TD
Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
Merry Christmas!
This weather is so beautiful, I’m tempted to wish everyone I come into contact with today, Merry Christmas. Snow covered trees and bushes and especially drooping branches on pines make for a vision of Christmas morning …at least when I was a kid and heavy snow this time of year wasn’t unusual.
But all things must come to an end, so we’re leaving the cabin in Antrim County where the snow is accumulating faster than they can remove it from the roads. Some parts of the county are worse than others. Mancelona is almost impassible.
Of course, this won’t last, it’s supposed to get into the 40’s by this weekend and most of the snow will disappear. Still, despite it taking two hours to go 65 miles, the ride home was normal from West Branch south.
It’s all good.
TD
Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
Find a spot and sit!
It was by chance that I glanced to my right. The silhouette of something dark caught my eye and was followed by a sudden rise in my body temperature as the buck stepped into a clearing between two branchy downed trees. He was a large deer with a substantial rack – at least eight points – and he was as careful as you’d expect him to be.
It was the afternoon of day two of the rifle deer season and I had seen a fair amount of doe. This was the first buck. I was hunting private land that was open to hunting through an access program through the DNR. Not many hunters were in the wooded acres …but there were others as I would soon discover.
The buck made his was closer to my shooting lane, but extremely cautious. Finally, I slowly inched my way into a shooting position that allowed me to raise my rifle and put a scope on the big buck, when, like a shot, he straightened, jumped straight in the air and turned on his way down and disappeared over the ridge he came from.
I haven’t been that cussed-out since I was in basic training. I must have spooked him …or so I thought.
Snap, crackle, pop sounds came from my left, followed by hunter orange making its way along the edge of the woods along a field about 200 yards away. The buck heard the approaching hunter before I did and reacted.
Here’s hoping that guy has to go to work on Monday.
TD
Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
It doesn’t get any better than this!
All of a sudden, there was a fog of snow as we drove north on I-75 between St. Helen and Grayling. It was so dense with large flakes, the lanes disappeared and so did the tail lights of the cars ahead and the headlights of those behind. Seamus was standing on the center console looking out and “She Who Must Be Obeyed” was holding on to whatever she could. The four-hour trip turned into five.
Grayling was asleep as we drive up the exit ramp onto M-72. Plows were out trying to keep up with the snowfall that had begun hours before. Two lanes became one with no chance of passing the semi we caught up to as we crept west toward Kalkaska. The ride, which would have been white knuckle, was a ride through winter wonderland with sights of branches on evergreens laden with snow, bowing as we approached. Currier and Ives couldn’t have created a more beautiful scene.
As usual, for some reason I don’t fully understand, the accumulation of snow became less as we approached Bellaire and less yet as we got closer to Central Lake and the cabin. Three to four inches greeted us as the Jeep made its way into the driveway. By morning, four inches more were added.
As is the custom (Seamus insist on it being observed) by six o’clock I felt a paw patting my arm, followed by a nose shoved under my arm and in my face. I was time to get up and go “exploring.”
The first snow of the season for us both, had Seamus running, jumping at the snow he was throwing up as he ran, acting like a pup. The nine-year old Britt lost five years as he raced through the woods and along the road. His tracks were the first the road had seen since yesterday. I think if he knew haw to make a snowman, there’d be one in the yard.
Coffee was ready on our return and “She Who Must Be Obeyed” was already planning the meals for the five-day deer camp. Life is good.
TD
Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
The sky is falling …..one white flake at a time.
For the past few days, every newscast has been reporting the terrible fate of northern states, like Minnesota, Wisconsin and Northern Michigan. They make it sound so dire I want to pack up and head for the Amazon and wrap myself in banana leaves until I get a report that the sky is falling there.
One women who was being interviewed in Minnesota (who was obviously expected to give a cry of “woe is me,”) said, “It comes every year, we might as well get it over with.” She didn’t make it to the next broadcast.
God save us from the alarmists.
TD
Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
Sell crazy somewhere else!
Ok, here’s where I get into trouble. I’ve been reading articles and posts lately about carrying a gun while fishing. To be more precise, carrying a gun openly – so others are aware that you’re carrying a gun – while standing in a river, fly casting, no less.
I am not an anti-gun proponent, but crap like this can send me in that direction if for no other reason than, seeing someone sporting a sidearm on the Holy Water, Upper Manistee, Boardman, North Branch, on my beloved Jordan, or anywhere I fish, will diminish my focus on the reason I’m there and wonder what this person carrying a gun while fishing, is afraid of?
Undoubtedly, I expect some to reply with the hue and cry of, “It’s my constitutional right.” It’s all our constitutional right, but why do it just because you can. If there is a reason for carrying a gun on the water, then hide it. Get the permits required and keep it somewhere it can’t be seen.
In this crazy politically correct time we’re living in, why invade one of the last bastions of tranquility and beauty with politics.
For my two cents, sell crazy somewhere else, I’m all stocked up.
TD
Category Archives: Two Cents Worth
Dinosaurs like cork
I’ve been described as being rude, crude and socially unacceptable and have the mindset of a bulldog that bites you in the ass and holds on until his teeth get tired. With that preamble in mind, let me unequivocally say, “I like cork.” 
Cork has been on the handle of almost every rod I’ve owned since I was old enough to figure out the “do’s” and “don’ts” of a Shakespeare level wind casting reel on a steel casting rod when I was a kid. The reel was filled with black braided line and until I got the knack of casting sidearm, would end up in a bird’s nest on every cast. But the reel handle was made of cork rings.
I know there are synthetic materials that work as well, or so I’m told, but just as shotguns – to me anyway, have to have a nice wood stock with checkering and a fine grade of bluing on the barrels – cork makes the rod complete.
Cork, to my liking, needs to look good …be all one color and grade. It doesn’t have to be the best grade, but it does have to be consistent from the top to bottom ring. Rods with different color rings to accent the grip, have me looking for a different rod. Synthetic cork, won’t do it for me.
It’s not that I can’t catch a trout on anything but a rod with a cork grip, it’s just that it loses something in the enjoyment of doing it: like hunting with a gun that looks like an assault rifle, (I had one for a while, but had to give it back when Uncle Sam let me go home.) the experience just isn’t there for me.
I suppose dinosaurs like me are the reason there are so many brands and models of rods and guns. After all, if everyone had my frame of mind, how would anyone be able to snag or poach? You just don’t throw a fine rod or shotgun into the weeds when the Game Warden sneaks up on you.
See what I mean about being a bulldog?
TD