I have a story to tell on myself.  When I was a working guy, my work decided I needed to go to Denver for some training in the world of Contracting for Federal Government Contracts.  It was a week long course with about 30 students in the class.  I learned quite a bit while attending the class and got a lot of insight from some of the other students, as not all were U.S. Govt. employees.  But that is not my story here.

The class was held very close to downtown Denver and of course my Hotel was right close by as well.  The class would end around 4 p.m. each day and we would all go our separate ways to our hotels to freshen up after a grueling day in class.  My hotel had a “happy hour” that started about 4:30 and went until 7 p.m. everyday.  Free beer, free food, free everything.  I partook.

The class folks would set a time and place for us all to gather and have a drink or two and eat some dinner.  Each night was a different establishment near downtown and it was a great thing to do.  Every restaurant was a different theme and served different foods.  We had fun getting to know each other and our diverse backgrounds.  Well the Thursday night of the week, we decided to meet a Hooters and enjoy the evening.

I had a few rounds at the hotel after I freshened up and walked over to Hooters.  Now, if you are not familiar with Hooters, they are an eatery with very good American food, cold drinks of any kind you want and the waitresses, well let’s just say they are showy.  Oh, and friendly.  I’m sure it helps with them getting tips for their work.

I arrived at Hooters and was second to get there.  I joined one of the other men in the class and he was already on his second or fifth drink.  I ordered up a beer and we sat discussing the class lessons and the fact that the next day (Friday) we would all be going home.  Soon, the rest of the class showed up and we were occupying 5 or 6 tables in a place that might have had 15 tables.  The front doors of this particular Hooters opened up like a large garage door and gave access to the sidewalk in front of the place.  More tables were put out there and the place was full of patrons.

This was a summer time training session and the weather outside was beautiful.  Not too hot and not too cold.  The evening was long on sun and being as it was downtown, every establishment was booming.  And every establishment was trying to get your business.  There were bands, acting mimes, panhandlers of all sorts, most of whom were very good at what they did.  There were singers and comedians etc.  The entire downtown was alive with activity and it was a fun place to be.

About 9 or so in the evening, after we had all eaten and were sitting around continuing to socialize and drink our cold drinks, Hooters brought in a band.  The band set up just outside on the sidewalk and they started playing nothing but Creedence Clearwater Revival songs!  MY FAVORITE!  If you want me to get up and dance, give me about five beers and start playing “Willie and the Poor Boys”….I just have to play!

There is was.  “Down on the Corner, Out in the Street, Willie and the Poor Boys are Playing….”  I jumped up and asked the waitress if she would like to dance.  She put down her empty tray and out we went….the only two cutting the rug outside Hooters.  Spinning around, kicking up the legs…fun, fun, fun….

Suddenly a large hand crasped my right shoulder, very close to my neck and the hand was not a gentle hand, but one that rather squose  hard.  Hard enough to get my attention very quickly.  I stopped my dancing and so did the waitress, and the booming voice behind my right ear asked “Are you finished with your drink sir”?  I squeekily said, “No”.  And then the booming voice said, “Please sir, kindly go back to your seat and finish your drink and then quietly remove yourself from this establishment.  We do NOT have a cabaret license!”

I saw the man who had the booming voice once he let go of my shoulder and he was quite a large fellow indeed.  I went back to my seat and quietly finished my beer and then excused myself from the place and told my class mate friends that I had to go back to my hotel room and study for the next day’s exam.

What was sad, was that the booming voice guy escorted the young lady to somewhere in the back of the establishment….I probably cost her her job.  Lady, if you are reading this I am truly sorry.

I’m probably not the first nor the last, but I am the only one I know who has ever been kicked out of a Hooters.

Bears Butt

Nov. 2011

This link was posted in a thread found on the Utah Wildlife Network forum, which I visit daily.  There are some good stories on that site, as well as good information and good folks.  You should check it out:

http://utahwildlife.net/forum/index.php

The below link is about the name Wasatch, and how it came to be called that.  And since I live at the foot of that mountain range “Wasatch Mountains” this was very interesting to me.

http://www.i4m.com/think/wasatch/

Bears Butt

Oct. 2011

Twas sum time back whenst Russ dun called on his friend Warren ta go an git a bear with him.  Well Russ he dun knowed a whole heap bout bears an all, an he dun kilt a heap o them already, but this time he dun wanted Warren ta go wid im in the wilds of the Wind Rivers ta git a big ol bruin of a bear what he knowed wus up there lurkin.

Wellst, they wuz sittin by the fire the night afor they wuz ta go ta git this here big ol bruin an Warren he dun looks at Russ an sayz, Russ, I don’t know nuttin bout bears an such.  What in tar nation is I doin up here with you?  I is gonna git myself kilt an all, an it will be yer fault.

Ol Russ, he dun looked Warren right in the eye an sez, Now lissen Warren, you aint gonna git kilt ner nuttin like that.  Especial if you dun listen ta what I is gonna tell ya, an ifn you do zackly like I dun tell ya, ya is gonna chase that bruin right out fer me ta kill.

Now lissen close, hear?  An Warren he is all ears as Russ proceeds ta tell him zackly what ta do when huntin bears.

Now, Warren, in the morning, you is gonna go up ta the top of that big ol mountain over there an you is gonna cum down through the draw yellin an carryin on an that big bruin is gonna git skeert an cum out for me ta shoot.  An that is all there is to it.

But Warren, he is a bit not so sure bout what Russ is tellin him an he says ta Russ.  Ok, Russ, I is gonna do what you dun said, but what if that bruin don’t wanna come out fer you ta shoot, an he dun comes after me instead?

Russ says back ta Warren, Well, first off, you is gonna be swingin a big ol stick an whackin the brush an trees an yellin an causin such a ruckus, aint gonna be no bruin what wants nuttin ta do wid all that, an he is gonna run like the dickin outa there an right inta my gun sights fer sure.  BUT, ifn he don’t cum runin out an he dun turns ta cum towards you, you do zackly like I am bout ta tell ya.

OK, what is it I need ta know Russ, now don’t go tellin me ta lay down an play dead, cuz when that bruin cums back tawards me, I is gonna be dead fer sure an there aint gonna be no playin atol.

No, Warren, you ain’t gonna be playin dead.  So listen up, Ifn that bruin cums yer way, you stop right in your tracks an you do zackly what that bruin does an you will be just fine.  Now lets git sum sleep.

So they go to sleep, at least Russ goes to sleep and Warren lays there wonderin just what Russ has in store for him.  He is still a young man, an he don’t want ta be dead an all like that.  But he dun cumed up there with Russ an ta help him git a big ol bruin an he is gonna stick ta his word.

Next day, Russ is up with gusto an singin an dancing round cuz he knowed full well he is gonna kill hisself one big ol bruin.  Probably the biggest bruin ever kilt by a man in all the land.  But Warren, he aint so happy as Russ.  So onest they is dun wid theys eatin, they heads fer the mountain.

Russ tells Warren ta head on up ta the top of that there draw, an he is gonns sit over yonder at that there rock an wait fer Warren ta skeer out that big ol bruin what is hidin in those bushes.  He reminds Warren ta git holt of a big stick an smack it ginst sum trees as he yells an cums down through the draw.

But Warren, he ain’t so conserned bout chasin out a big ol bruin, as much as he is bout that big ol bruin havin him fer his own lunch.  An his mind is racin bout what Russ dun tolt him bout doin what the bruin does ifn it turns round on him.

So, Warren goes ta the top of the draw an finds hisself one big ol stick an he starts ta go down through that draw poundin on trees an yellin with all his might an stompin his feet an makin more rackit than anyone has ever heard afor.  An sudden, there in front of him is a big ol bruin standin in the trail ahead an is lookin right at him, sure nuff!  And the Bruin let’s out a big ol “RRUUFFFF”!  Oh my Gohd says Warren ta hisself.

Warren is faced with his worstest nighmare of all nightmares.  An his mind says, Russ tolt me ta do what the bruin does an I’ll be alright.  So he drops his big stick an stands there in the trail just like the big ol bruin an he does zackly like the bruin an he says “RRUUFFF”!   As mean as that big ol bruin dun said it.  An they is lookin at each other sure nuff.

Then the bruin, he dun comes down on all fours.  So Warren, he dun drops down jus like the bruin.

An the bruin, he dun takes one step up the trail twards Warren.  So Warren, he dun takes one step for ward twards the bruin.  Then the bruin, he takes another step forward.  So Warren, he does to.  An this goes on fer quite sum time an pert soon, theys noses is touchin each other right there in the trail!  Warren is really skeert bout now, what if that there bruin just opens up its mouth an takes Warren by the head an tosses him round.  He be kilt fer sure.

But the big ol Bruin, he didn’t open up his mouth atol.  Stead, he dun reaches out front of hisself with one big ol claw foot an digs a small hole in the dirt an tosses the dirt ahind himself.  So Warren, he reaches out with his hand and digs a small hole an tosses the dirt ahind hisself jus the same.  An then the bruin he does it with his other paw an tosses the dirt back ahind hisself again.  So Warren, he switches hands an does it same as afore.

Now, this here goes on until they both has a pert big hole afore each of them.  Then the big ol bruin, he inches up his hind legs tward Warren.  So Warren, he inches his rear end forward twards the big ol bruin.  Then the bruin, he inches forward sum more.  An Warren he does the same.  Whenst all of a sudden, the big ol bruin, he dun relieves hisself of a big ol dump, right there in the hole what he dun dug.

Warren, he dun stands up an points ta the big ol bruin and yells, “HA!  I DUN THAT WHEN YOU FIRST SAID RRUUFFF!”

An that is the way that there story goes.

Bears Butt

Oct. 2011

Well, well, well.  The muzzleload deer hunt is just around the corner and you need to know how to properly load your muzzy gun!  This is how I do it and usually the hunt ends up with myself standing alongside a hanging buck I put down with this here load.  It’s been tried and trued for many a year and you need to follow the directions to the tee.

First off it don’t make no nevermind as to what caliber rifle you have, you just have to have the right stuff to put in it to make it work good an proper.  Corse it does make a difference to the state officials in your state as to whether you have the right size ball or bullet to be able to shoot and not git a ticket.  So check on your states regs an all afore you just load up and head out.  Here in Utah, ya got ta have a rifle what is 45 caliber or bigger to hunt our big ol mule deer bucks.  That is all I am sayin.

Course I hunt with a 54 caliber rifle an I do that cuz I got a good deal on it sum time back.  An it is good fer elk an moose too.  In addition ta the size of the caliber, I use a big ol bullet what is 425 grains of pure lead and it has a hollow point and a hollow base.  The bigness of the bullet carries a lot of heavy punch down range.  Enough in fact that an elephant would have a tough time stopping it.  And so for our big mule deer and elk and moose it is surely big enough to do the trick in a quick fashion.  Some call it a Hornady brand, Great Plains bullet.  Well, that is what the package says too by golly.

What is the importance of the hollow point?  That my friend allows the bullet to start expanding the moment it hits the animals hide. The larger expansion leads to more damage inside the animal and a quicker more humane death to that animal.  Of course nothing good will come of poor shot placement.

What about the hollow base?  When the powder explodes behind the bullet and it starts its travel toward the muzzle end of the barrel, the thinner walls on the hollow base expand outward and catch the rifling’s in the barrel.  The rifling’s are what allows the bullet to spin and a spinning bullet affords a more accurate projectile.  Of course there are always exception to the rule.  Faster rates of twist in a barrel are more accurate for big bullets, while slower ones tend to be only good for patched round balls.

So, there you have the info on the big bullet and its weight, hollow point and hollow base and what each is designed to do.  There are negatives to each as well.  The heavy weight limits the distance the bullet will travel and it drops a whole lot as it travels.  At 100 yards my guess is it will drop about 5 inches even with 90 grains of powder being shot.  At 200 yards you might as well forget shooting at an animal unless you aim over its back a few inches.  It will still have the knock down and penetration power, but your point of aim will be different.  The hollow point catches air and slows the bullet down as well, which also adds to the drop of the bullet as it travels.  There isn’t much that is negative in the hollow base.

Ok, so here we are in hunting camp and I’m about to demonstrate how I load my rifle.  I pull out the butter flavored Crisco, a salt shaker, pepper shaker and some powdered garlic.  Then my powder and measure and the 425 grain bullets.

Because I have recently (or not so recently) cleaned the barrel, I will pour a small amount of powder from my measure down the barrel and pop a cap.  Make sure the powder in the barrel goes boom, or you have to pop another cap and maybe even pour a bit more powder down the barrel.  Once you have “cleared” the barrel you are ready to load your hunting load.

I carefully measure 90 grains of FFg black powder and pour it down the barrel.  Then I take one of the 425 grain bullets out of the box and rub almost all of the pre-lubricant that comes on the bullet off.  Then I smear some butter flavored Crisco on the outside of the bullet and then slip it down the barrel.  My ramrod finishes getting the bullet firmly placed on top of the powder charge.  Then, since I like a little salt, pepper and garlic powder on my meat, I sprinkle a small amount of each down the barrel on top of the bullet.  This way, when the bullet hits the animal it will be taking these three ingredients down range with it and put the seasonings in the animal.

There you have it.  My hunting load.

Bears Butt

Sept. 2011

We have all been there.  That is, we have all been told, or we told someone else when a question has been asked that has an obvious answer and we (or they) respond with “Does a Bear Sh*t in the woods”?  From my observation, and I must qualify this by saying I have Never seen a bear in the woods and so, I have never witnessed the act.  At least I have not seen a bear outside of Yellowstone National Park, which I don’t really consider “the woods”.

But I have seen a picture of a bear in the act and I feel it important enough to share that picture with you and then explain what I must explain.  You will see my logic in a few minutes (or less).

OK.  So you see this is clearly a Bear.  And this is clearly a bear with one thing in mind and that is to rid itself of yesterdays hiker or berries or what have you, that it ate.  Now let’s carefully analyze what we are observing.  If that bears backside is 10 inches above the ground, what he is pushing out will most likely break off at some point before touching the ground.  At least that is what my logic tells me.  And so it becomes quite obvious that when asked that age old question:  “Does a bear sh*t in the woods”?  The answer would be “NO.  A bear does NOT sh*t in the woods.  It sh*ts in the air and it FALLS in the woods”!

Bears Butt

Sept. 2011

About 33 years ago, when we were just beginning to get really involved with the mountain man scene.  Since there were only four of us who were really playing with the whole deal at the time.  We were reading and studying about the mountain man era and getting quite informed about the 1800’s and rendezvous etc.  We also had built our first ever mountain man leathers out of deer skins from the deer we had shot with out muzzleloaders.  Life was as good then as it is now.

Anyway, Wapiti Dung and I were both working in the big city of Salt Lake and he got a call from one of his “people” who asked if he would come to his church and talk about the mountain man era and what have you.  Of course you don’t turn down one of your “people” when they request such as that.

Wapiti accepted and then called me.  “Butt, would you like to join me in a presentation about mountain men and the era of the mountain men”?  And so it was, I too accepted the challenge for one of Wapiti’s “people”.  It will be a fun thing to do, and then we can drive home together and have friendly conversation and drink.

When the evening of the presentation came.  I drove to Wapiti’s work place and the two of us got into his vehicle and drove to the church.  It doesn’t really matter the denomination of the church, but they had prepared for us to be on stage in a large auditorium with very big windows on our left.  Windows with huge amounts of different colored glass and lead lines holding it all together.  It was a beautiful setting for our first ever “Mountain Man Demonstration”.

Both of us love to get up in front of crowds and show off our talents and we were both very proud to have been asked to do this demonstration.  We had discussed what each of us would present and we covered a brief of the mountain man era in the United States.  Rendezvous.  Clothing.  Guns and gun safety.  It was a marvel and it set the stage for the numerous mountain man demonstrations we continue to present when asked to this day.

Before us was a huge crowd of perhaps 100 people.  Ages ranged from about 6 to 70.  Toward the end of our demonstration there was standing room only in the very back and along the sides of the auditorium.  As the crowd grew so did our chests.  We were a big hit and we knew it.

We had began our discussion with a comment that at any time during the presentation, the audience could ask us questions.  And so it began with a young man right down in front of us.  He was perhaps 13 years old and very impressed with what he was hearing from us.  He had a million and one questions and kept raising his hands and stopping us from going on.  He was a chubby little guy, who’s feet just did touch the ground when he sat in the chair.  After about a half hour of his questions we started to ignore his hand and went on with our show.

We had decided that to end our presentation we would both load up parade loads and fire them off at the same time and that would be a good thing to do.  Mostly to show the folks that these guns make a lot of noise, and blow a lot of smoke and the smoke smells very good.

As we got to this portion of the presentation, Wapiti was the speaker and I just followed his lead on what he was saying.  It went something like this:

Now folks, in order to get a muzzleloader to fire and take down the game animal you are shooting at, you first have to load it with powder.  Now, it is only safe to load the powder by using a devise called a powder measure.  You pour your powder from your powder flask, like this one, and pour the black powder out of it and into your powder measure.  Make sure you put your powder flask plug back into the powder flask, before you pour the measured powder down the barrel of the muzzleloader.  (a short pause while the plug is inserted and the powder is poured down the barrel).  Next, we use a cloth patch.  These patches are made of 100 percent pure cotton.  Do not use any synthetic material as it will mess up your barrel when you fire it.  We place the patch over the barrel like this.  (another short pause).  Then you place a round ball of proper caliber for your rifle on top of the patch.  My rifle is a 50 caliber Hawken, Bears Butt’s rifle is a 54 caliber.  We will then use a short starter like this one in my hand to force the ball and patch down the barrel a short distance to get it started.  We will not be loading real round balls down our barrels at this time.  Instead we will be putting toilet paper wads down on top of the powder to simulate the round ball.  We don’t want to be making holes in the ceiling of this beautiful church. (And so we did in fact push large pieces of toilet paper down our barrels and on top of the powder).  Now to continue.  In Utah, a muzzleloader is not considered a loaded weapon until a cap or prime has been put in place on the nipple or in the pan.  One can carry this loaded rifle in their vehicle and not be ticketed for a loaded gun.  We are now going to place a cap on the nipple of our rifles like this. (pause again as the caps are placed on the nipples.  Wapiti whispers to me that on 3 we will both fire our guns into the air.  The crowd does not hear him).  These rifles are now considered loaded and can be fired to take the game you are persuing…1…2….3!  BOOOOMMMMM! An almost deafening boom I might add.  What with two rifles loaded with parade loads going off in a room the size of a large classroom and nothing there to absorb the sound at all.  In fact walls made of lacquered wood and wood floors and only the large glass panes on our left.

And the crowd went wild!  I mean “THE CROWD WENT WILD”!  Chairs were tipping over, smoke filled the entire room, filtering toilet paper floated down into the unbelieving crowd.  Mouths were agape!  Old ladies were being helped up off their backs, people were removing their hands from over their ears and the smell of blackpowder was wonderfully everywhere!  What a site!  The little fat boy in the front was also on his back and as he rolled to the side to be able to stand, you could see a very wet crotch where it was dry moments before.

I looked at Wapiti and he looked at me and I said “Let’s not do that inside a church anymore”.

We were never asked to come back to that church for any presentations again, and only Wapiti can say if that man was ever one of his “people” after that.

The culmination of that first presentation was a learning experience we both have cherished for all of these years.  The best was the little fat boy in the front row.  It would be interesting to know what he is doing right now and how those shots effected him.  Does he remember the day the mountain men came to the church to show how mountain men lived back in 1800?  Or has he a mental block of the entire ordeal?  Perhaps he is in a lead position in a mental institute OR is he a resident of same?  We will never know.  BUT, for all of you who do give demonstrations like these, take it from the two who have been there…don’t fire your muzzleloaders inside a building.

Bears Butt

Sept. 2011

When you think about things in general and in a perspective sense, ones location on this earth can quickly be attached to exactly where you are at.  That doesn’t make a whole lot of sense as a single statement, so let me explain.

I am sitting here typing away on what I am writing.  To someone in Europe, I am in the Rocky Mountains.  To someone in New York, I am in the Rocky Mountains.  To someone in Missouri, I am at the foot of the Wasatch Front, in the Rocky Mountains.  To someone in Colorado, I am on the other side of the Rocky Mountains.  To someone in Salt Lake City, Utah, I am in Willard, Utah.  Now does my first statement make any sense.  Still no?  Tough.

Back when the mountain men were roaming around this great nation they began back East.  Where?  Well let’s say Saint Louis, Missouri.  Or South at Taos, New Mexico.  Of course back then the Missouri location was on the edge of the unknown.  Civilization had creeped that far and being on the bank of the Missouri River, the river defined the boundary of the wilderness to the West.  Taos, on the other hand was in the Mexican territory.  These men were there because it was a relatively safe place to be, among people similar to them (not Native Americans) and the trapping season was not on.

Once it became time to venture toward the trapping grounds with prime hides waiting, they would pack up and head on out.  Later on, when Ashley and the boys took up the task of bringing the necessary goods (and Whiskey) out to the men in the trapping fields, the trip to St. Louis or Taos became un-nesessary.

The meeting places where Ashley would announce to all the men in the mountains via word of mouth became known at the “rendezvous site”.  And Ashley mixed things up quite a bit from year to year.  One time in what we call Wyoming, the next in Northern Utah, the next near central Wyoming and then things began to settle down to pretty much the same place for several years running.  But the fact remains Ashley and the boys would have plenty of stuff for the mountain men to restock up on including the whiskey part.  These rendezvous’ also brought in Native Americans who would camp on the peripheral of the white mans camp and they too would enjoy some of the same pleasures that the mountain men would enjoy.  Actually, the Native American women liked the idea because of the trinkets and shiney mirrors and other goods not known by their own kind, until these mountain men came around.  But that is not my point in this.  What is my point is the rendezvous.

Ok, so here we are at the foot of the Rocky Mountains.  The narrowest corridor of land  between the shear rock cliffs and the Great Salt Lake.  A small town named Willard, Utah!  A wonderful place with a wonderful view.  Quiet little place, with the exception of the freeway traffic noise.

Back in the days of the Pioneers venturing out West with Brigham Young in the lead and coming into the great valley of the Salt Lake, Brigham was smart enough to know that the valley before them could not sustain all of them.  Couple that with the fact that he needed some avenues “out of Dodge” (so to speak) if the U.S. Government decided to reign him in (he and his group of Mormons were not very well liked back then).  So, having the knowledge that up and down the Wasatch front streams poured out their fresh waters from the mountains and they flowed down and into the Great Salt Lake, he sent some of the Bretheren and Sisters to settle near these streams.  To erect homes, clear and till the land and become self sufficient.  His instructions were also to assist the Native Americans with food stuff and essentials, and to avoid conflicts with them.

He sent folks to the South and to the North.  On the Northern end they settled in Bountiful, Farmington, Along the Weber River, Ogden, North Ogden, North Willow Creek, Three Mile Creek and on to Brigham City.  There were more, but it took more time to settle some of the other settlements that currently dot the maps of our present time.

North Willow Creek is what it was called at the time.  Later named Willard, after one of the higher ups in the Morman, Latter Day Saints (LDS) church, who was very influential, Willard Richards.

Suddenly along comes a small group of people who were born in and around that small community.  Carrying black powder rifles and pistols and wearing deer skin leathers and wool capotes and who called themselves “The Willow Creek Free Trappers”!  A good looking bunch if I do say so myself!

Let it be known that Ashley and the boys never had a rendezvous on the banks of the North Willow Creek, but in a generally speaking sort of way, he had one pretty dang close.  This year, 2011, history is going to be made and it is going to happen right here and right on the banks of the Willow Creek!  The Willow Creek Free Trappers first rendezvous to be held on the Zundel farm in Willard, Utah, September 1st through September 5th.  If you get there early enough your camp could be right ON the bank of the Willow Creek.

The Willow Creek Free Trappers have been searching for the perfect place to purchase for rendezvous to be held.  A place loaded with tall trees, cool meadows and a stream running through it.  By golly, I think we have found that exact place to hold this years rendezvous.  We have been chasing a wild bunch of beavers that have created quite a stir in the Willow Creek.  There are loads of “beaver sharns”, so go hunting and come back with a perfect one.

This historic event will be a fun one as usual and I for one am really looking forward to it.  Come on out and join in this event.  You won’t be sorry.

Bears Butt

Aug. 2011

His first time with them, the young man is somewhat surprised by all of the festivities and ceremony.  He is new to the world of mountain men and looks up to those “old timers” who appear to have it all together.  In his city clothing, the youngster, even if he is in his 40’s or 50’s at the time, stands out among those “old timers”, with their leather clothing, knives and seasoned rifles.

Not to be discouraged, the “newbie” confronts the task of becoming “one of them” with a heart felt desire that can only satisfied by earning it the hard way.

He camps somewhat away, and yet close enough to hear the sounds and smell the smells coming from the “old timers” camps.  At night he is near the firelight of the council fire, but out on the fringes of the light itself.  Again, relishing in the flavor of the night fire and the sacred rituals of the council fire.

Ahh, what a place to be at such a time in his life.  Rendezvous!  A raucous time being had by all who attend!  Drinking until the light of dawn, story telling constantly, continual harassment among all, each trying to out-do the other.  The first story told will be outdone a hundred times during the course of the rendezvous.  The youngster learns early on, that if you are to be the one telling the first “yarn”, you had better make it a good one.  For an old timer is going to come up and out yarn your yarn a hundred fold.

And still, the youngster delights in the festivities, for this is what has drawn him into the scene.  It’s a sure fire way of learning something different than what goes on in the valley day by day.  Fire starting with flint and steel, or bow and stick.  Knife and hawk throwing, muzzleloader rifle shooting and best of all, trading.   The new one spends his year in preparation for the rendezvous and makes items he feels will be welcomed by the old timers and desirous of a good trade for some of the old timer’s favorite accoutrements.

He practices with his hawk, making sure it sticks where the mark is and feels the confidence of those he is looking up to with such regard.  He’s watched them trade amongst themselves and their hawks hit the marks with power and accuracy.  Best of all, he practices his skills with the muzzleloader rifle he now calls his “smoke pole”.  He is learning the language.  He has breathed in the smoke of a thousand black powder fired rounds.  It’s in his blood now.  He can’t go back.  He’s hooked!

As time goes on, the youngster begins to feel that since some of the old timers remember his name from one rendezvous to another, that maybe he is becoming one of them.  He must remember however, that he is still new and that he must listen to the old timers.  He still holds their words and wisdom in the highest regard, showing them the respect they deserve.  And the occasional sharing of his drink, aids in his favorable reception.

Soon the youngster has earned enough deer and elk hides to provide himself with the buckskin clothing he has been years seeing the old timers wearing.  It has taken a long time for him to get to this point.  But still, it’s in the earning of the clothing that is the real prize.  He has gathered these hides, honing his skills as a hunter over the years and used only the smoke pole he calls his own.  The rifle has proved itself a worthy companion more than once and the youngster is proud.

With his new clothing, he enters the rendezvous with a vigor he has not felt before.  It’s his first where he looks like he is a seasoned mountain man.  A man among men, those same men he has been looking up to for years!  Yes, this is a moment to shine, and shine he does.  The old timers see him with new eyes, and notice the parts of this youngster they had doubts about, are now more seasoned and he is becoming a real challenge in the contests held at rendezvous.  Yes, they have done well in preparing this youngster to enter into this world of the mountain man.

The youngster feel so good in fact that at the next knife and hawk throwing contest, he strikes a hard blow to the one he has considered the best of the best.  And as fate would have it, the youngster is now the lead dog in a contest he could only be a part of in the past.  Lead dog in a contest that he was always last in.  Lead dog; and called upon at the council fire to receive a fine “old timer” type of gift for his efforts.  A proud moment to say the least!  And, better yet, the old timers yell and celebrate with this youngster who has shown them defeat for the first time.  The youngster is proud.

Time goes on, and the youngster is finding necklaces, knives and accoutrements are now hanging from him much like those he has admired in years past.  He’s now included in most of the discussions around the council fire.  How has this come to be so quickly in the youngster’s life?  He slipped in amongst the old timers and become as they are, his fate sealed.  Shouldn’t there have been some kind of ceremony that welcomed him into their ranks?  Shouldn’t he have had to do some great deed to earn the right?  The youngster is somewhat confused by the quickness of his being welcomed into such a highly esteemed group.

With his heart swelled with honor, the youngster offers the old timers his views and does the things they ask of him.  He assists with camp setup and breakdown, the range master duties and other tasks.  He takes his obligation seriously and does more than would have ever been expected.  The old timers like his work and his enthusiasm.  They comment on his abilities to start the fire with flint and steel quickly, even with wet wood.

The council fire would not be what it is without the youngster.  He takes on the task of being the first to tell a tale, knowing full well, his tale will not be the best of the evening.  He does his best and accepts the fact that the next story beat his honorably.

One day while getting a drink from the creek, the reflection in the pool shows a mountain man comfortable in his attire.  His new leather clothes have blood stains and greased fringe.  His hat fits snuggly, like a well worn glove.  His claw necklace hangs nearly to the water.  As he drinks from the creek, the claws of the necklace break the surface.

Could it be that this youngster is now not so young?  Could it be that his mentoring of the latest newbie to come into camp has made him graduate into the old timer’s ranks?  He sits back and contemplates his dilemma.   He thinks of all of the times he took last place in the hawk throws, the mountain man runs and the rifle competition.  He now thinks, without a boastful thought, that perhaps the others in the competition are gauging themselves on their position relative to his.  Has he become the one to beat?  How could that have happened?  Yes, he has taken his share of firsts and seconds and heard the revelry at the council fire and shook the hands of those who he thought should have won.  But isn’t this too early in his life to be happening?

At the rendezvous one late afternoon, the youngster is approached by a city clad young man, who begins to ask him about his clothing, his rifle and knife and says in a breath, “I sure would like to be just like you one of these days”.

And the youngster now knows he has solidly entered into the ranks of the “old timers”.  This isn’t too early in his life to be happening.

Welcome to the club!

Bears Butt

4/5/06

Ya know whenst a mountain folk is borned they dun aint got no name right frum the beginnin.  Sos sumbody decided what had ta happin wuz they gots ta have a name.  Most folks what just gitted borned cud care less what they is called, they is most interested in eatin an that is just about it.  But in order ta keep folks apart frum one nuther, they is named purdy much right frum the git go.  An ifn ya think about it fer a minute it perty much does make sense an all.

Most folks don’t go straight ta the mountains ta trap an such an they most likely wuddnt go ta the mountain anyways till they cud walk an ride a pony.  Seppen them what is borned in the mountains in the first place.

Iffn ya thinks about it purdy much, afor white mountain men started ta cum ta the mountain, the folks what wuz already in the mountains had theys names sos the other folks wud knowed who you wuz talkin bout iffn you wuz talkin bout sumbody.  Well, nows when this here story is gonna begin.

Onst agin we wuz huntin sum meat fer winter store an along the trail dun cummed this one feller what only had the name whut his folks dun called him whenst he wuz borned.  This ol boy knowed his huntin stuff fer sure an he wuz quick ta show us he knowed it.

We wuz in camp an he wuz bout ta try his hand at loadin up a new rifle what wuz give ta him fer usin.  We wuz all standin round jaw jackin an watchin him as he primed that rifle up fer his first shot.  There wuz sumpin bout his mannerisms what told us he ain’t never loaded up a muzz type gun afor.  An we wuz gittin nervous like.  We wuz lookin at him an his ways ta holt that there gun wuz with the barrel way out in frunt of hisself an almost pointin away like.

Then whenst he wuz measured up an ready ta pour the powder down the barrel he wuz real, real careful like an sorta turned his head ta the side sum, like it might just go off when the powder dun hit the bottom of the barrel.   We wuz lookin at each other all queer like an scratchin ours heads an wonderin where in tar nation did he learn this here tekneek.

Next he placed a patch right proper over the end of the barrel an careful like put a ball atop it.  The barrel is still sorta pointin away as he used his short starter an got the ball started down the barrel.  Next, as we all knowed, he pulls out his ramrod an begins ta push that patched ball down on top of the powder.  This is the last step ta load er up an we alls knows ya gots ta git that ball pushed down firm agin that powder what ya just poured down the barrel.  Ifn ya don’t ya is takin a powerful chance that you is gonna blow up yer gun an maybe even you self, orn sumbody else.

He wuz real, real careful like not ta put a bunch of pressure on that there patched ball an made sum comment bout it blowin up an all.  Sos bein the friendly an helpful folks we is, we offered up sum real handy help fer him ta learn frum.

We said, now what we dun just got ta see, wuz you loadin up fer makin meat, but whut if you wuz under attack frum some hostile type guy?  Ya gots ta learn ta load that there rifle up plenty fast sos ta git 5 or 6 shots off in a minute or so, an iffn ya kint do that, then perty much ya ain’t gonna be at next rondeevoo an sumbody is gonna have yer scalp hangin in theys lodge.

So he dun caps up his first load an fires down to the target an hits sumplace not too close ta the place he dun wanted ta hit.  So, then he perceeds ta load up agin.  We dun said, now don’t be afraid of that there powder, measure ya out whutcha want an pour it down that there barrel fast like.  An don’t be worryin bout the gun goin off nun.  They be only a little bit of a chance whut there be a spark in that there barrel an so you is gonna hafta git a cap on fer it ta fire.  So he dun pours in the powder real quick like an sure nuff it didn’t go off.

Then he puts the patch over the barrel like afor an seeted a ball top of that an usin his short starter he dun pounds that patch an ball down the barrel sum.  Then he gits his ramrod outin its place an pushes the ball down on top of the powder with a quick push.  Then he pushed that rod even harder an made sure the ball wuz seeted real gud.

Onst that wuz dun, he dun capped up an aimed real proper an the second ball dun hit right long side the first one.  We all said that wuz gud, but he wuz gonna hafta do it agin ta make sure the balls is all goin ta hit the same place.  So back ta loadin he went.  This time he wuz actin all comfident like an loaded it up.  This here third time whut he loaded only tuk maybe a minute which is gud whenst ya is a first startin ta kitch onta shootin a front stuffer rifle.

He wuz quick ta cap up, aim gud an fire.  The ball hit right next ta the other two an then he knowed his gun wuz off sight an he adjusted ta whut he thought should put the ball plumb center next time.  He went ta loadin an he wuz gittin faster an faster.  Not pushin the gun away an actin all skeert like nor nuttin like that.  He dun shot the next three times within five minutes an his adjustin had it pert neer ta the bullseye.  He dun kept this up till he had her hittin plumb center.  He knows his rifle by now perty gud too.  An the loadin ain’t nuttin but gud.  He sure do look like he is a gunner.

Welst with that ahind him, we wuz ready fur the night an needed ta sleep sum afor the mornin.  When we dun got up an headed out ta make meat at first light, he begins ta see bucks an he wuz tryin  real hard ta git close fer a shot.  Them bucks wuz smart an stayed just outa range most of the day, but when one did git within gunnin range he wuz sure ta fire a shot an try an make meat.  Well it seems that most of the shots he wuz takin wuz iffy shots at best cuz he wuzn’t makin no meat, but he sure wuz shootin when shootin wuz ta be dun.  That night his name wuz put up on the boobin baby board fer sure, cuz he dun shot an no deer wuz bringed back ta camp.

Next day we wuz up on a high ridge lookin inta the trees an brush fer bucks an sure nuff, there wuz three bucks  layin there all comfy like.  We figgered we cud git round on them an sneek in an maybe even git two or all three afor they knowed we wuz there.  So we planned us up a plan.  I wuz ta git kleer over on ta the other side of the ridge an cum toward the bucks frum the down hill side sum.  Others wuz ta cum from other angles an in the middle wuz these three bucks just layin there.  This wuz a plan whut like nun other.

Sos we gitts all sitiated an we start ta move in real slow like.  Perty soon I cud see one buck layin there lookin back at me.  He wuz gittin sorta nervous like an I decided I cudnt git no closer afor he runned off.  Sos I uses a tree branch an aims real gud an slowly pulled on that trigger and BANG!!! Offn it went, but then so did the buck.  I missed plain as plain an that buck dun runned straight at the guy who wuz sightin in the other day.  The other two bucks they dun gitted up an took off real fast like too.  An the whole mountain wuz movin.  Guys runnin left an right an deer runnin right an left.  I wuz quick ta be loadin back up when a buck dun runs right now past where I wuz standin.  I wuzn’t fast nuff ta git loaded an he gitted outa there fast like.

Then offn ta my left side, I heared a BANG!  An a holler about gittin a buck down!  I wuz happy an started that way.  Sure nuff, the guy who wuz sightin in the other day wuz standin right over a big ol buck whut he dun just shot.  Whut a happy day it wuz fer all o us what wuz there.  We wuz dancin an whoopin it up sum fer sure.

So, whenst sumbody dun gits a name theys usually duz sumpin ta deserve it right proper, an this here wuz no ception.  An that night round the council fire it was said, David, cum ta the fire.  An the guy who wuz sightin in his rifle a couple of days ago duz cummed up ta the fire.  An the man with the talkin stick he dun says when a man deserves ta git a naming duz just the right stuff ta git a name then a naming is in order.   An fer showin us you cud learn ta load that there rifle real fine like an fer not bein afreared ta shoot at bucks cuz yer name might be put on the boobin baby board an just cuz ya dun real good at gunnin down that big ol buck, we dun decided that wherever mountain men shall meet, you shall be knowed as “GUNNER”!

An that is just how it wuz.  Now ya knowed how a mountain man kin git a name.

Bears Butt

July 2011

Fall wuz in the air an we had dun made our way ta the high mountains fer ta git us sum more ven meat fer the meat pole.  Raif wuz there, as wuz his son, Butt Shot.  Now the year afor, Butt Shot dun had pert near nuff of huntin while ridin in my wagon an he dun told his pa that they needed ta hunt a differnt spot than Bears Butts wagon wuz gonin.  Well his pa don’t much keer where he hunts long as he is huntin.

Mornin cumed an we all dun goes ta git us sum ven.  When we dun git back ta camp, they wuz sum what had got a ven an hung it on the meat pole.  That wuz gud an we wuz happy.  There woodn’t be no starving this cumin winter time what with meat on the meat pole.

Next day we all goes out agin lookin fer ven.  We been seenin plenty of em out an about, but the buck ones wuz the hardest ta see close nuff fer a shot.  So we goes on an on lookin an tryin ta figger out how we is gonna git us sum more fer the meat pole.

In the travellin of my wagon, we dun seed  Raif and Butt Shot comin outa sum heavy timber neer the bottom of a riveen.  They dun had seed sum moose, but ain’t seed no buck deer.  An they wuz gonna try a differnt spot next time.  An so they goes back up the trail frum whenst my wagon dun just cummed down.  I keep drivin my wagon on ta a spot I figgger got a big buck er two hidin.  We dun git ta where I think a big buck is an we gits out an go ta huntin through the thicket, but no bucks wuz found.  Back ta the wagon an on ta a nuther spot.  By this time it be gittin sorta late in the day an bout time ta head back ta camp.

We goed on up the trail passed camp just in case they might be a buck up the trail sum an then we plans on cumin back ta camp whenst it be pert neer ta dark.  On our way we dun seed Raif an Butt Shots ponies tied up neer the trail, but they wuz no wherst ta be seed.  We figger they dun probably spotted a buck an wuz in hot pursuit afoot.

We gits back ta camp pert late like an Raif an Butt Shot wuz there standin by the meat pole.  They wuz a grinning like nobody had no business.  Butt Shot he was showin off sum, proud bout his pa dun gitted a buck.  We unloaded frum the wagon an head ta the meat pole ta look an lordy, lordy, Raif he dun gitted hisself one big ol big of a big ol big buck!  What I is tryin ta say is he dun gitted hisself what cud be said wuz the biggest buck what wuz around them parts fer sure!  Whenst we dun seed it, we cudn’t believe our eyes!  I ain’t never seed such a big ol buck afore.

Everone wuz happy, but not neer so happy as Raif an Butt Shot.  They dun rid off by theys selves an cummed back with a big ol buck.  Butt Shot he dun said his pa is what the other mountain men wishes they wuz.  He kin look at a mountain an tell zackly where a big buck is hidin.  An not only that, he kin sneek in an shoot that big ol buck right then an there.  Sure nuff, I kint argue that.  I’m seein it with my own eyes!  So we dun asked Raif ta tell us zackly the story of his gittin this here big ol buck.

Me reckolectin of the story goes like this here;

Wellst, oncest we dun seed the wagon filled with you guys an we dun talked a spell, me an Butt Shot decided that you guys wuz probably jaw jackin an not lookin reel close fer bucks when you dun commed offn that their trail.  So we decided we wuz gonna go back up an maybe find a buck what wuz there.  So we dun did that.  An here it is ta show ya.

We said, there gotta be more story than that an we talked Raif inta tellin more.  Well he said, we wuz ridin reel slow down that there trail an all sudden I kin see where the trail had dun got all tore up like wid tracks.  This here told me there wuz a big ol buck sum place close.  So we dun tied up the hoss’ an started ta sneek inta the thick pines.  We been sneekin fer sum time an all sudden we dun cud see a deer standin right there.  We had dun sneeked in so quiet like that deer never did knowed we wuz there.  On further lookin we cud see it twernt no buck.  It moved out reel slow like an behind it cummed another, an another, an sum more.  An they all did move offn reel slow like an disappeared inta the far reaches of our sight.

Then this here reel strange thing dun happened.  I cudn’t seed nuttin, but I cud heered sumpin.  An I aint never dun heerd nuttin  like this here never afor.  I aint reel sure I kin tell ya what the sound I dun heered sounded like, but it wuz reel high pich, like a elk, but not neer as loud, nor as long a noise.  Jus sorta weird like.  Anyways, soon I dun cud see a horn movin through the trees bout where we dun seed them other deers.  An it stepped reel slow like an moved reel quiet, seppen the noise what it wuz makin.  I seed it one time stretch its neck out long and open up his mouth an then I heered that noise, so I knowed it wuz him what wuz makin that noise.  Then I seed them doe deer dun cumin back like they wuz cumin ta play with him.  He wuz all happy lookin as they cummed back too, an that is when he dun made his big mistake.  I pulled up my ol trusty an cocked the hammer slow and quiet and waited.  Pert soon he dun stepped right inta a clearin in the trees an gave me a pert neer perfect broad side view of his vitals.

BOOM!  Went the gun an down he did go with a big ol thud.  Twernt nuttin left ta do, but git him back ta camp.  Course, we didn’t knowed it at the moment, but that wuz a heap of a big ol buck what we dun just got, an we wuz a long way frum the hoss’.  Twern’t no way ta git the hoss’ inta this here thick pine, so it wuz our job ta drag that big ol buck outn there by hand.

So, there ya have the story bout Raifes big ol buck.  Perhaps Butt Shot kin add er subtract sum when ya talk at him next.  After all he wuz right there.  Oh, an here is a picture of that big ol buck an Raif.

That there is one BIG, Big Ol Buck!

Bears Butt

July 3, 2011