I was a kid many years ago but there are still memories that are locked in my brain from those days gone by.
Fall arrived slowly as the tree leaves lost their magnificent greens and changed to yellows, golds and reds. The declining temperatures and dwindling sunlight hurried this process along.
Flocks of the feathered species filled the skies as songbirds, ducks, geese and swans began their journeys to their winter homes.
The cold winds rushed through the barren branches of farm windbreaks and the first sheets of ice began to form on the lakes and ponds.
Not all animals were equipped to head to warmer climates. Instead, they were programed to begin their months of hibernation. Animals such as Thirteen-lined Squirrels, racoons, chipmunks, and groundhogs missed the adventures of winter as they enjoyed a long siesta.
Mammals such as the deer mice and squirrels stored a food supply that insured their survival through the winter months.
Young boys’ thoughts turned to two things as fall invaded the landscape: hunting and trapping seasons.
What fun it was to sit hidden in thick stands of cattails waiting for a flock of green-headed mallards to circle and land. The adrenaline rush was exciting.
The Ring-Necked Pheasent would cause the heart to beat faster as the bird exploded from rows of weed infested corn and escape as I and my two brothers fumbled to get our guns off safe. Another adrenaline filled experience.
One fall, our dad brought home a small, black homeless dog that the town cop had found running around town. We named her Queenie.
She was a mutt, but could she hunt!
One bitterly cold day we were hunting pheasants. It was so cold the pheasants refused to fly so Queenie took it upon herself to catch them alive.
At the end of the day Queenie got her limit and Tom, Jerry and I got skunked! 🙁
Our two quarters of farmland were dotted with sloughs. The slough behind our barn initially, had a road splitting it in two. After several wet years the road became partially submerged and eventually abandoned.
Although no vehicles could pass on the partially submerged road, we duck hunters could navigate the road on foot. As we walked along ducks would flush on the right and the left sides of the old road. What excitement that was!
We were not a wealthy family by any means. Cream and eggs brought to the local creamery each Saturday was our family’s major income. So, purchasing shells for our 410 shotgun (we three brothers shared the same gun) was not an easy task.
I have a memory of sneaking up on several blue-winged teal shooting three times at them and watching them fly away.
I was disappointed that I had not bagged a duck but really bummed because I had wasted three shells.
As cooler weather arrived ice began to form on the sloughs and the ducks took off for a warmer climate.
The next fall adventure would begin for we three brothers, trapping season! 🙂
Muskrats and mink were our favorite furbearers to trap.
We were always more successful catching muskrats as mink trapping required more skill.
I remember coming home from school after a three- inch snowfall and I discovered my dad had set some traps in muskrat houses in the slough behind our barn.
I followed his fresh tracks and checked his newly set traps where I discovered several muskrats.
Looking back, I feel bad. I’m sure he was looking forward to checking his own traps. I deprived him of the joy of the catch.
When trapping season started, we three brothers had to decide who was going to trap where. There were two sloughs within walking distance from our farm site.
I choose the smallest slough while Tom and Jerry trapped on the larger slough.
As I stated catching a mink was a difficult task and I so wanted to catch a mink. Sale of a mink’s fur would provide me money to purchase Christmas presents for the family.
Morning after morning I would walk in the dark to the tiny slough with hopes that I would discover a mink in my trap.
Morning after morning I was disappointed.
Then one morning my spirits rose as I discovered paired footprints in the snow, footprints of a mink!!
Hope was restored! 🙂
There was a single muskrat house on the slough ice. I made a hole into the house and reset my trap in front of the hole.
Several days passed.
And then one morning I was making my way in the dark through the small slough’s cattails. I entered the clearing where the muskrat house was located and I was shocked!
The muskrat house lay in pieces. The cattail stems were scattered over the ice!
My trap stake was tangled in cattail stems, and my mouth fell open as I stared at a huge mink in my trap.
The animal whirled as he saw me and leaped at me. His bared teeth are forever in my memory as I used my club to dispatch it.
It was a merry Christmas that year because the mink’s pelt sold for $26. That was a lot of money in 1954.
I don’t trap anymore, well except for the mice in my garage. Now I am content to view furbearers in the wild from time to time and not inflect the unnecessary fear and pain a trap causes.
Hey, that was fun going down memory lane. I hope you enjoyed it. 🙂
Until next time.
