Talkin' Outdoors

Telling the old man, 2017, goodbye while welcoming the little cherubic 2018 guy taking his place provides the right time to look back over the past 12 months to mull over those things that went well; those that weren’t worth bragging on and those that were just flat out bummers.

I’ve had some of all three and I’m betting you did too. Let’s get the bad out of the way first so we can gargle and spit the nasty taste out of our mouths.

You ever had a gall bladder attack? Back in late January, abdominal pains sent me to the doctor who ran tests and said, yep, that sucker needs to come out.

I was back home by early afternoon on the day my gall bladder and a handful of gall stones got yanked but the doctor who did the surgery wanted to be sure all the stones were gone. He made me an appointment with a doctor in Monroe who scheduled me for a procedure the name of which I can neither remember nor pronounce.

I was asleep during the process so I have no memory of what happened except I was told a probe was run all the way down to my bile duct, which makes its home, by the way, south of my stomach. After waking up from the procedure, I was sent home but a couple hours later, intense pain sent me back to the doctor. Long story short, his probing disturbed my pancreas more than the little organ liked and I ended up with pancreatitis, something you absolutely want to avoid if at all possible. As we used to say back in Goldonna, I was sick as a dog for nearly a week before the little gland settled down and I was sent home to recover.

That about takes care of the ugly. The bad category can also be called the “sad” category because during the course of the year, I lost a dear friend, one I have fished with, one who could keep me slapping-my-thighs laughing. Cliff Shelby was a talented artist and writer who gained a measure of fame by illustrating the well-known Harry and Charlie series in Bass Master magazine. This funny, gifted guy made his home in north Arkansas but was a graduate of Louisiana Tech. Rest in peace, Cliff.

Now on to the “good.” If you know me, you have probably surmised that any good stuff that happened to me took place in the turkey woods, and you’d be right.

On my annual trek to Menard, Texas to hunt turkeys with a group of buddies, I had one specific goal in mind. When I headed to Texas, I was 79 years old and while there, I bumped it up a notch to the big Eight-O. Over the course of my turkey hunting career which began in 1992, I had put the pop on 39 gobblers. My goal was to accomplish what I called “Forty by Eighty,” I wanted to get gobbler number 40 by the time I hit 80.

It was a chilly damp morning when long bearded bird stepped in front of my gun. Bingo; I had number 40.

On this same trip, I joined forces with one of my hunting partners, Greg Thomas as we sat together one afternoon in a turkey blind. We called, gobblers answered and we agreed that if given the opportunity, we’d try for a double. Three gobblers came strutting in, at the count of three the BaBoom of shotguns going off simultaneously sent two long bearded birds flopping in the dirt.

Another chapter in the “good” category took place when this year’s deer season kicked off. No, I didn’t get a big buck, or a little one for that matter, but for the past several seasons, I have been privileged to join forces with LA Sportsman magazine and web site to chase down and interview hunters who collected trophy bucks. With a few more weeks of deer season to go in the state, I have written 33 stories for Sportsman so far.

Getting to peer over the shoulders of successful hunters and vicariously watch them do their thing has taken the edge off me not getting my buck. It’s been an absolute hoot.

Here’s hoping 2018 is weighted heavily toward the good with little room for the bad and ugly.

 

 

 

CANEY LAKE 2017 - THE GOOD, THE BAD, THE UGLY

By: Glynn Harris

Telling the old man, 2017, goodbye while welcoming the little cherubic 2018 guy taking his place provides the right time to look back over the past 12 months to mull over those things that went well; those that weren’t worth bragging on and those that were just flat out bummers.

I’ve had some of all three and I’m betting you did too. Let’s get the bad out of the way first so we can gargle and spit the nasty taste out of our mouths.

You ever had a gall bladder attack? Back in late January, abdominal pains sent me to the doctor who ran tests and said, yep, that sucker needs to come out.

I was back home by early afternoon on the day my gall bladder and a handful of gall stones got yanked but the doctor who did the surgery wanted to be sure all the stones were gone. He made me an appointment with a doctor in Monroe who scheduled me for a procedure the name of which I can neither remember nor pronounce.

I was asleep during the process so I have no memory of what happened except I was told a probe was run all the way down to my bile duct, which makes its home, by the way, south of my stomach. After waking up from the procedure, I was sent home but a couple hours later, intense pain sent me back to the doctor. Long story short, his probing disturbed my pancreas more than the little organ liked and I ended up with pancreatitis, something you absolutely want to avoid if at all possible. As we used to say back in Goldonna, I was sick as a dog for nearly a week before the little gland settled down and I was sent home to recover.

That about takes care of the ugly. The bad category can also be called the “sad” category because during the course of the year, I lost a dear friend, one I have fished with, one who could keep me slapping-my-thighs laughing. Cliff Shelby was a talented artist and writer who gained a measure of fame by illustrating the well-known Harry and Charlie series in Bass Master magazine. This funny, gifted guy made his home in north Arkansas but was a graduate of Louisiana Tech. Rest in peace, Cliff.

Now on to the “good.” If you know me, you have probably surmised that any good stuff that happened to me took place in the turkey woods, and you’d be right.

On my annual trek to Menard, Texas to hunt turkeys with a group of buddies, I had one specific goal in mind. When I headed to Texas, I was 79 years old and while there, I bumped it up a notch to the big Eight-O. Over the course of my turkey hunting career which began in 1992, I had put the pop on 39 gobblers. My goal was to accomplish what I called “Forty by Eighty,” I wanted to get gobbler number 40 by the time I hit 80.

It was a chilly damp morning when long bearded bird stepped in front of my gun. Bingo; I had number 40.

On this same trip, I joined forces with one of my hunting partners, Greg Thomas as we sat together one afternoon in a turkey blind. We called, gobblers answered and we agreed that if given the opportunity, we’d try for a double. Three gobblers came strutting in, at the count of three the BaBoom of shotguns going off simultaneously sent two long bearded birds flopping in the dirt.

Another chapter in the “good” category took place when this year’s deer season kicked off. No, I didn’t get a big buck, or a little one for that matter, but for the past several seasons, I have been privileged to join forces with LA Sportsman magazine and web site to chase down and interview hunters who collected trophy bucks. With a few more weeks of deer season to go in the state, I have written 33 stories for Sportsman so far.

Getting to peer over the shoulders of successful hunters and vicariously watch them do their thing has taken the edge off me not getting my buck. It’s been an absolute hoot.

Here’s hoping 2018 is weighted heavily toward the good with little room for the bad and ugly.