Showing posts with label Subsistence hunting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Subsistence hunting. Show all posts

Thursday, November 27, 2025

Lex Anteinternet: A Blog Mirror Post: Do it yourself, was "How to Grocery Shop on the Cheap Humility, thy name is Aldi."

Lex Anteinternet: A Blog Mirror Post: Do it yourself, was "How to G...:   Rockwell's World War Two era illustration of one of Roosevelt's Four Freedoms, this one being Freedom from want.  This came from a...

 

A Blog Mirror Post: Do it yourself, was "How to Grocery Shop on the Cheap Humility, thy name is Aldi."

 

Rockwell's World War Two era illustration of one of Roosevelt's Four Freedoms, this one being Freedom from want.  This came from a March 6, 1943 Saturday Evening Post illustration although it was completed in November, 1943.  Rockwell was inspired by a Thanksgiving dinner in which he photographed his cook serving the same in November, 1942.  The painting has come to symbolize Thanksgiving dinners.   Interesting, compared to the vast fare that is typically associated with the feast, this table is actually fairly spartan.

This is a really good article on grocery shopping.

How to Grocery Shop on the Cheap

Humility, thy name is Aldi.

I'm going to take this in a slightly different direction, but this blog post is, I'll note, really good.

And I love the kitties featured in the article.

Anyhow, it ought to be obvious to anyone living in the US right now that groceries, that odd word discovered by Donald Trump in his dotage, are pretty expensive.  Less obvious, it seems, is why that is true.  Again, not to overly politicize it, but the common Trump Interregnum explanations are largely complete crap. It's not the case, as seemingly suggested, that Joe Biden runs around raising prices in a wicked plan to destroy the American lifestyle for "hard working Americans". Rather, a bunch of things have contributed to that.

To start with, the COVID 19 pandemic really screwed up the economy, and we're still living with the impact of that.  One of the impacts of that is that certain supply chains somewhat broke and have never been repaired.  Added to that, global climatic conditions are impacting crops in what is now a global food distribution system. Weather has additionally impacted meat prices by impacting the Beef Cattle Heard in the last decade, which has been followed up upon by the visitation of cattle diseases, and poultry diseases, that have reduced head counts. That definitely impacts prices.  The Administration, however, believing that the country exists in the economic 1820s, rather than the 2020s, fiddles with inflation causing tariffs on a weekly basis, which raises prices on everything. And finally the ineptly waged Russian war against Ukraine has impacted grain supplies world wide.  It reminds me of, well. . . :

Then I watched while the Lamb broke open the first of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures cry out in a voice like thunder, “Come forward.”

I looked, and there was a white horse, and its rider had a bow. He was given a crown, and he rode forth victorious to further his victories.

When he broke open the second seal, I heard the second living creature cry out, “Come forward.”

Another horse came out, a red one. Its rider was given power to take peace away from the earth, so that people would slaughter one another. And he was given a huge sword.

When he broke open the third seal, I heard the third living creature cry out, “Come forward.” I looked, and there was a black horse, and its rider held a scale in his hand.

I heard what seemed to be a voice in the midst of the four living creatures. It said, “A ration of wheat costs a day’s pay, and three rations of barley cost a day’s pay. But do not damage the olive oil or the wine.”

When he broke open the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth living creature cry out, “Come forward.”

I looked, and there was a pale green horse. Its rider was named Death, and Hades accompanied him. They were given authority over a quarter of the earth, to kill with sword, famine, and plague, and by means of the beasts of the earth.

Not that dire, of course. . . 

Anyhow,  this reminded me of an agrarian topic.  How can you, dear agrarian reader, reduce your grocery bill?

Well, do it yourself, of course.

What do I mean?

Well, grow it and kill it yourself.

Assuming, of course, you can. But most people can.

Now, let me be the first to admit that this is more than a little hypocritical on my part now days. The pressures of work and life caused me to give up my very extensive garden some years ago.  I'd frankly cash in my chips and retire life now, but my spouse insists that this cannot be so. So, in my rapidly increasing dotage, I'm working as hard as ever at my town job.

 

An Agrarian's Lament indeed.

Anyhow, however, let's consider this.  Many people have the means of putting in a garden, and many have the means to take at least part of their meat consumption in by fishing and hunting.  Beyond that, if you have freezer space, or even if a friend has freezer space, you can buy much, maybe all depending upon where you live, of your meat locally sourced.

Given as this is Thanksgiving, let's take a look at how that would look.

I'll start off with first noting that there's actually more variety in Thanksgiving meals than supposed, as well as less. This time of year in fact, you'll tend to find all sort of weird articles by various people eschewing the traditional turkey dinner in favor of something else, mostly just in an effort to be self serving different.  And then you have the weirdness of something like this:

I suppose that's an effort by our Vice President to be amusing, something he genuinely is not, but frankly, I do like turkey.  I like it a lot.  A lot of people do.  Vance, of course, lives in a house where his wife is a vegetarian for religious reasons, so turkey may not appear there.

Anyhow, what is the traditional Thanksgiving meal?  Most of us have to look back on our own families in order to really determine that.

When I was growing up, we always had Thanksgiving Dinner at one of my uncle's houses.  My father and his only brother were very close, and we went there for Thanksgiving, and they came to our house for Christmas evening dinner.  Both dinners were evening dinners.  We probably went over to my aunt and uncle's house about  4:00 p.m. and came home after 9:00 p.m., but I'll also note that this is now a long time ago and my memory may be off.  This tradition lasted until the year after my father passed away, but even at that, that's now over 30 years ago.

Dinner at my aunt and uncles generally went like this.  

Before dinner it was likely that football was turned on the television, which is a big unfortunate American tradition.  My father and uncle would likely have a couple of beers.  My father hardly drank at all, so this was relatively unusual.  My mother would generally not drink beer and interestingly it was largely a male drink.1   I don't think I saw women really drink beer until I was in college.2  Anyhow, at dinner there's be some sort of white wine, although I can barely recall it.  Nobody in the family was a wine connoisseur, so there's no way I could remotely give an indication on what it was, except that one of my cousins, when he was old enough to drink, really liked Asti Spumante, which I bet I haven't had in over a decade.Dinner itself would be a large roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, bread, salad, and a marshmallow yam dish.  Dinner rolls would also be present.

Desert was pumpkin pie.

Pretty common fare, and frankly, very good fare, for Thanksgiving.

After my father died, Thanksgiving dinner was briefly up to me for a time, as my mother was too ill by that stage in her life to deal with cooking much.In light of tradition, I'd probably cook a smaller turkey, although if I had wild waterfowl I'd shot, I'd go with that.  Otherwise, mashed potatoes and yams.  To drink, for me, probably beer.

After I started dating my wife, Thanksgiving was at her folk's place.  My mother in law is an excellent cook, and my wife is as well.  Unlike J. D. Vance, I'm not afflicted with vegetarian relatives, and indeed, as my wife is from a ranch family, all dinners very much show that.

On the ranch, Thanksgiving is a noon meal. So is Christmas dinner.  Noon meals are generally odd for me, as I don't usually eat lunch, but that reflects a pretty strong agricultural tradition.  Big meals are often at noon.  Meals associated with big events, such as brandings, always are. So it makes sense.

Thanksgiving there shares a common feature with the ones that were at my aunts and uncles, in that usually somebody offers everyone a drink before dinner, while people are chatting.  Unlike my aunts and uncles, however, somebody will usually offer people some sort of whiskey.

Their Thanksgiving Dinner has a very broad fare.  There's a large roasted turkey, but there's also a brisket.  Both are excellent and everyone has some of both.  There's salad, mashed potatoes and two different types of stuffing, as some of us likey oyster stuffing, and others do not.  Cranberry sauce is handmade by one of my brothers in law, who is an excellent cook.  There are other dishes as well, and there's a variety of desserts.  Homemade dinner rolls are served as well.

So, that leads to this.  If I were cooking a Thanksgiving Day dinner, what would it be.

It's be simple compared to what I've noted for the simple reason that I'm simplistic in my approach to dinner in general.  I had a long period as a bachelor before being married, and I know how to cook, but my cooking reflects that bachelorhood in some ways.

The main entre would be a turkey, or perhaps a goose, which I'll explain below.

Two types of stuffing, for the reasons explained above.

Salad.

Mashed potatoes (but with no gravy, for reasons I'll explain below).

Bread.

Yams.

Pumpkin pie and mincemeat pie.

To drink, I'd probably have beer and some sort of wine.  I'd have whiskey available before dinner.

Okay, if that doesn't meet the Walmart definition of a Thanksgiving dinner, that's because nobody should buy things at Walmart. . . ever.

So, in applying my localist/killetarian suggestions, how much of this could I acquire while avoiding a store entirely?

Almost all of it.

Starting with the meat, I always hunt turkeys each year, but I don't always get one.  If I was going to cook Thanksgiving dinner, however, I'd put a more dedicated effort into it.  Turkey hunting for me is sort of opportunistic, and given that I do it in the spring its mostly a chance to try to get a turkey while getting out, usually with the dog (although poor dog died in an automobile accident earlier this year, he only every got to go out for turkeys).  If I put in more hours, which I should, I'd get one.

If I can't get one, however, by this time of year I definitely can get a goose.

Which, by way of a diversion, brings up J. D. Vance's stupid ass comment above.  If your turkey is dry, that's because you cooked it wrong.  And if wild turkey is dry, that's because the cook tried to cook it like some massive obese Butterball.

Tastewise and texture wise, there's no difference whatsoever between a wild and domestic turkey.  People who say there are say that because one of them, if not both of them, were cooked incorrectly.

Which is true of goose as well. Goose tastes very much like roast beef, unless the cook was afraid of the goose and cooked it like it was something else and ruined it.

Anyhow. . . I can provide the bird myself

So too with the vegetables, mostly.  When I grew a garden, I produced lettuce onions and potatoes.  One year I grew brussels sprouts.  Of these, only the lettuce either doesn't keep on its own or can't be frozen in some fashion.  I  could grow yams, I'm quite confident, even though I never did.

Now, on bread, I can bake my own bread and have, but I can't source the ingredients.  So those I'd have to buy.   I could likely figure out how to make my own stuffing, but I probably wouldn't bother to do so, unless I wanted to have oyster stuffing.  I would have to buy the oysters.

I'll note here that I wouldn't make gravy, as I really don't like it.  My mother in laws gravy is the only gravy that I like.   Otherwise, there's no excuse for gravy. I put butter on mashed potatoes, and I always have.

But I buy the butter.

I'd have to buy marshmallows for the yams too.

That leaves something to drink.  I know that some people will distill their own whiskey as a hobby, but I'm not about to try that, and I"ve never brewed beer.  If I ever lived solely on what I produce myself, mostly, I'd take it up.  I clearly don't have the time to do that now.

Dessert?

I'm fairly good at making pies.  I like pumpkin pie, but I've never grown pumpkins.  I could give that a shot, but I'd still have to buy most of the constituents.  My grandmother (father's mother) used to make mincemeat pies, but I've never attempted that.  The real ingredients for mincemeat pies freak people out, I"d note, those being, according to one granola website I hit and may link in, the following:

Old-Fashioned Mincemeat Pie Recipe:

Ingredients:

1 lb beef (I used ground beef from grass-fed cows) *

¾ teaspoon salt (I like using Real Salt)

1 ½ lbs apple, peeled and chopped (about 3 cups)

⅓ cup suet or tallow or coconut oil, or butter or coconut oil *

¾ cup apple cider

1 Tbs ground mace (or ½ Tbs nutmeg if you don't have mace)

½ Tbs cinnamon

½ teaspoon nutmeg

8 Tbs (½) cup raisins (or 1 full cup if not using currants too). I like to use organic raisins when possible

8 Tbs (½ cup) dried currants (or substitute raisins if you choose)

3 Tbs chopped candied citron pieces (optional)

Which brings up a lot of stuff I'd have to buy.  Everything but for the beef, as I too have beef from grass fed cows that I knew personally.

All in all, pretty doable.

Cheaper?  

Well, if you are an efficient agrarian/killetarian, yes.  

Footnotes:

1.  My father normally only bought beer during the middle of the summer, and sometimes to take on a fishing expedition if somebody was going along.  Otherwise, it just didn't appear in your house.  The only whiskey ever bought was Canadian Whiskey, and a bottle of it would last forever. We often didn't have it at all. . . indeed, normally we did not.  He only bought it when I was very young, if we were having guests.  

This is interesting as in this era offering a drink to guests was very common.  A different aunt and uncle liked Scotch and would offer it to guests, but my father hated Scotch.  

When I was young, my parents would occasionally buy wine, but it was almost always Mogan David.  Clearly were were not wine connoisseurs. 

2. This probably seems odd, but it's true.  I saw women drink beer so rarely that it was a shock when I was a kid to see a woman drinking a beer. They just normally didn't.

Indeed, by the time I was a teenager a girl drinking a beer sort of made her a "bad girl", but not in the Good Girls Don't sense.  Rather, that was in the rowdy party girl sense.  Or so we thought. We knew this, but we really didn't know any beer drinking girls as teenagers.

In college things were different, but the reputation that college students have for partying didn't really match the reality, at least for geology students.  As an undergraduate in community college we might very occasionally go out for a beer, and that was almost always the collection of us who had graduated from high school together when everyone was home.  For part of the last year of community college I had a girlfriend and I can remember being in a bar with her exactly once, when she was trying to introduce another National Guardsman to her sister.  Otherwise, that relationship was unconsciously completely dry.

At UW as an undergrad most of my friends were geology students, like me, and the discipline was so hard there really wasn't any partying.  Sometimes a group of guys would go out for a beer, but that was about it.  Early on I recall there being a party of geology students who had all gone to community college together in the freezing apartment that one of us had.  There were some beers, but generally, we just froze.  A girlfriend who was also in the department and I went to a Christmas party the year I graduated, which was a big department affair and there was beer there, but that's about it.

In law school the story wasn't much different, frankly.  Indeed, it wasn't until I got out of law school, and started practicing law, that I encountered people who really drank heavily.

3.  To be honest, as a person always should be, when my mother's illness began to advance dramatically, she began to drink heavily.  It was a problem that my father and I had to deal with.  The oddity of it was that she had never done that when she was well.  

As an added element of that, when she was well she took a wine making class. The wine she made was absolutely awful and she was the only one who would drink it, but because it was so bad, she'd fortify it with vodka to make it tolerable. That acclimated her to drinking.  She gave it up completely as she began to recover just before my father died.

4.  While she recovered a great deal, she never fully recovered. She was also an absolutely awful cook.  As my father's health declined in the last year of his life, I took over cooking from him.

Tuesday, August 19, 2025

Where Do Farmers Get Their Food From? The answer is logical, rational, and ludicrous

 

This is an interesting item, particularly as information for those not associated with agriculture.

Where Do Farmers Get Their Food From?

The answer is logical, rational, and ludicrous

I've split both worlds, of course, for decades, although more by fate than choice.  Anyhow, one thing that's always amazed me is, to some degree, agriculturalist don't make full use of their own land.

I'm much more familiar with ranching than farming, so I'll start there.  Almost every rancher I know eats their own beef.  We eat our own beef.  For this reason, beef prices at the grocery store are always a bit of a mystery to me.

If you know somebody who raises pigs, and occasionally we do, we get one from them. Again, that means we're paying below grocery store prices.

Okay, all this is common.  

But what absolutely amazes me is that lots of farmers and ranchers don't take advantage of what's right before them.

I used to put in a huge garden every year.  I don't anymore, as my town job took control of my life and I lost the time to do it.  I hope to take it back up if I ever get to retire.  I can't see a good reason that almost every farm and ranch doesn't have a garden.  Yes, it takes time, but not that much time if you are right there.  It'd cut food bills, as they're mostly getting their produce from the grocery store, and fresh produce is always better.

I also don't understand why farmers and ranchers don't hunt, and fish, more.  I know that "time" will be the argument, but I've been around agriculture my whole life and farmers and ranchers have more time than city people do. They simply do.  Their time commitments tend to be seasonal, and intense, but they have the time.

At various times in my pre married life, I used to live on wild game.  And I know for a fact that prior to the 1980s, a lot of ranchers either did the same, or supplemented their meat supply that way.  One student I knew when I was in US as an undergrad was an older (in his 30s) student, and had grown up on a ranch were they lived on wild game. Frankly, they poached it.  I don't advocate poaching, but I also know more than one ranch family that poached pretty routinely into the 1970s.  

Here, farmers and ranchers can get landowners licenses and I just don't see why they don't.  And even if they don't, they usually have time after the fall to hunt and could on a regular license..  Indeed, as noted, they have more time than people in town do.  Outdoors writer John Barsness once noted in one of his columns that when he was a boy, he had a ranching uncle that became a full time elk hunter after shipping.

As noted, I just don't get it.

Shoot, it was my dream, which I will not succeed at.

If I could do whatever I want. . .

If I'd had my way, I would have lived full time in the sticks as a rancher, I'd have gardened in the war months, and hunted in the fall.  If I'd broke even, that would have been fine with me.

The Agrarian Dream.

Related threads:

If I could do whatever I want. . .


Saturday, March 30, 2024

Going Feral: The 2023 Season. Third Year (or more) Running

Going Feral: The 2023 Season. Third Year (or more) Running

The 2023 Season. Third Year (or more) Running


I noted last year, when I did this report, the following:

The 2022 Season

The 2022 hunting season has ended.

In 2022, when I wrote about the 2021 season, I started off with this:

 It wasn't a great one, for a variety of reasons.

And that statement was true once again for 2022, but for different reasons, a lot of which had nothing much to do with the hunting season itself.

That's because 2022 has been the year of the field of Medicine, or age, or perhaps lifestyle, or whatever, catching up with me.

Well, I'm beginning to sound like a broken record on that, as it was once again quite true.

On big game, I didn't draw anything.  So, no antelope tag again.

Indeed, sometime in the fall, in one of the blogs linked in here, an out-of-state hunter posted about the great time he'd had in Wyoming antelope hunting and I nearly posted a crabby linked in post regarding that.  If out of staters are getting tags, in staters should be.

I didn't want to insult that person, so I didn't make that post, but I'm still not very happy about it.

I had general deer and elk tags, and I did go out for deer, but no luck.  For deer, I did have a very pleasant early winter hunt, if that's what we call this frighteningly warm mid-year season this year, but the only white tails, and that's what it was limited to, that we saw were on private land where I didn't have permission.  So, no deer.

Bird wise, the season was good for the most part.  Blue Grouse, which are illusive in my experience (a Game Warden who checked me didn't seem to think so) did make an appearance this year, so we did okay, but not great.



Doves were abundant, but I mostly missed shooting at them, which was sort of the story of the year in a lot of ways.  I did get a Mongolian Collared Dove for the first time, so was able to appreciate how much larger they are than Mourning Doves.


Sage chickens were also plentiful this year.



Chukars and Huns, which are in my experience very hard to hit, were abundant, but I didn't do well with them as I missed them more than I hit them.  I did get in a lot of late season chukar hunting close to town for the first time.


Waterfowl, which we hunted more than anything else, was very abundant.


So, not a self-reliance banner year. . . or was it?

Last Prior Edition:

The 2022 Season

Saturday, February 24, 2024

Going Feral: Subsistance Hunter/Fisherman of the Week: Dick Proenneke

Going Feral: Subsistance Hunter/Fisherman of the Week: Dick Pr...

Subsistance Hunter/Fisherman of the Week: Dick Proenneke

Dick Proenneke may be the ultimate modern subsistence hunter and fisherman in so far as the Western World is concerned.

Proenneke was born in Iowa in 1916.  His father was sort of a jack of all trades laborer, which is and was common to rural areas.  His father was also a veteran of World War One.  Dick followed in his father's footsteps prior to World War Two, leaving high school before graduation, something extremely common in that era (less than 50% of males graduated from high school prior to World War Two  He joined the Navy in World War Two and took up hiking around San Francisco while recovering from rheumatic fever contracted in the service.  Having the disease was life altering for him, as he became focused on his health.  He received a medical discharge from the Navy in 1945.

After the war he became a diesel mechanic, but his love of nature caused him to move to Oregon to work on a sheep ranch, and then to Shuyark Island, Alaska, in 1950.  From 1950 to 1968 he worked for a variety of employers, including the Navy and the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service.  He moved to the wilderness in 1968, at age 52, the year that in many ways gave us the Post Post World War Two World we are now seeing collapse.  He lived there, as a single man, until 1999, when old age forced him out of the woods and to his brother's home in California.  He died in there in 2003, at age 86.  His cabin now belongs to the Park Service.

Proenneke loved photography and left an extensive filmed record of his life in Alaska.

There's a lot that can be gleaned from his life, some of which would probably be unwarranted, as every person's life is their own.  Having noted that, however, it should be noted that Proenneke is not the only person to live in this manner in Alaska's back wood, including up to the present.  So he's not fully unique, but rather his high intelligence and filmed record has made him known.

It's also notable, fwiw, that he was a single man.  Basically, if looked at carefully, his retreat to the woods came in his retirement, as he had very low expenses up until 1968, and had worked for the government for many years.  He never married, so he never had a family or responsibilities of that type.  Many of the men who live in wild Alaska have married into native families, so their circumstances are different.

Probably every young man who loves the outdoors has contemplated doing something like what Proenneke actually did, while omitted the decades of skilled labor as a single man that came before it.  And in reality, Proenneke, had lived over half his life as a working man with strong outdoor interests, rather than in the wilderness.  People really aren't meant to live the way he lived, in extreme isolation, save for a few.

Related Threads:

Dick Proenneke in Alone in the Wilderness


Sunday, January 21, 2024

Going Feral: Subsistence Hunter of the Week: Jack O'Connor

Going Feral: Subsistence Hunter of the Week: Jack O'Connor

Subsistence Hunter of the Week: Jack O'Connor

Arizona born writer/professor/big game hunter Jack O'Connor was, in my opinion, the best firearms author the country has ever produced, and certainly the best one on the topic of North American big game rifles.

Born in Arizona in 1902, he was partially raised by a bird hunting maternal grandfather, due to his parent's divorce when he was five years old, which influenced him heavily.  His paternal grandfather was a judge who also ranched, which also influenced him a great deal.  His mother became a university professor after that, at the University of Arizona, which he ultimately would as well.  As a very young man, he'd briefly worked as a market hunter for an uncle's saw mill.

O'Connor served in the military twice.  He joined the Army at age 15 during World War One, but was discharged due to tuberculosis.  He later joined the Navy in 1919, serving as a hospital corpsman until discharged in 1921.

He took to big game early on.  By profession, he was a writer, as noted first being a college professor.  He was the first journalism professor at the University of Arizona, a position he left to write in sporting journals full time in 1945.  In that role, he became famously associated with the .270 Winchester and Mountain Sheep hunting.  Not too surprisingly, he moved to Idaho in 1948, where sheep are indigenous, although he stated that this was in part as he felt Arizona had become overpopulated following World War Two.

While associated particularly with sheep, O'Connor was the class western North American hunter, and hunted every big game animal native to the region, frequently with his wife.  He was a noted conservationist as well.

Sunday, December 10, 2023

Subsistence hunter/fisherman of the week, and Agrarian of the Week, Tom Bell.

Wyoming rancher Tom Bell, a Fremont County rancher who lost an eye from flak during World War Two, fits both of these categories this week.

Indeed, he nearly defined them.

So, too, the memories of youth return on occasion to bring the warmth of old friendships remembered and old experiences renewed. Some of my fondest memories are of the dog days of August. Then much of the ranch work was done and cares slipped away. School was in the offing but far enough away to leave free time. And even after school hours, there was still time to slip away and meditate beside some branch of the river — a retreat unsurpassed even yet in my mind’s eye.

It was during those days that we often fished. Two boys and a girl, a boy and a girl, two boys, and on many occasions — a boy. Whether together or alone, the memories recalled are always pleasant.

We caught fish, sometimes excitedly, but mostly we just fished. It didn’t really matter. They were the pleasant hours when teenage cares could be temporarily submersed.

Tom Bell.

Bell was born in Winton, one of the variety of Sweetwater County mining towns that once existed before they boiled down to Rock Springs and Green River.  His parents moved him to Lander when they took up farming during the Great Depression.  He graduated from high school in 1941 and lost his eye as a crewman on a B-24 run over Austria.  He graduated from the University of Wyoming with a Masters in Zoology/Ecology in 1957, was a founder of the Wyoming Outdoor Council and the High Country News, as well as being a rancher.

Sunday, September 17, 2023

Lex Anteinternet: Rediscovering the obvious: Diet and hunting, fishing and gardening

Lex Anteinternet: Rediscovering the obvious: Diet and hunting, fish...

Rediscovering the obvious: Diet and hunting, fishing and gardening

For those who follow dietary trends, the current in vogue diet is the "Paley\o Diet".  And for those who take the National Geographic, you are aware that they've been running a semi scary series of articles on food in the 21st Century.

Elk hunter in northwest Wyoming, first decade of the 20th Century. For many in this region, this scene could have been taken any October.

The National Geographic articles have been inspired by the scare that's existed since at least the early 1970s that the planet is about to run out of food, although that particular article isn't really on that topic.  Quite frankly, and as well explored by an earlier National Geographic article, there's small chance of this indeed.  If anything, production agriculture has so vastly increased the global food supply that there's an overabundance of food and most fears of this type are very poorly placed.  Production agriculture, in fact, has hardly touched Africa and there's vast potential there, although not without vast cultural cost at the same time.


That's not what this article addresses, however. Rather, it addresses something that has been so obvious to me for decades that it not fits into one of those "geez, I wish I'd thought of marketing that way back when. . . " categories.

That is, human beings are evolved to eat a diet that we ate in our aboriginal state, for the most part, which we could still largely do.  Failing to do so has all sorts of negative health impacts.

Now, I am very well aware that this idea, which is an obvious truth, runs counter to the whole peak of the vegan trend, but that entire trend is one that is basically neopaganistic and hateful of nature.  We are part of nature, are evolved to eat a natural diet, and that diet was a wild one.

 Deer hunters with camp, early 20th Century.

So, hence the paleo diet trend, which I've largely ignored  A better study of this was presented by the National Geographic.

And what did the National Geographic discover? Well, people in their native states are hunter gatherers, with the emphasis on hunters. They eat a lot of vegetative material, but mostly because they're left with little choice.  When they don't have meat, it's because they can't find it, and they crave it.  If meat is abundant, their diet is heavy in it.  If it isn't, they feel deprived and make do with what they can find.

 Don't have the time, or perhaps energy to pursue deer or elk, or whatever.  Well, poultry lovers, perhaps you should try something a little more wild. Women hunters with pheasants.  Pheasant taste better than chicken any day.  For those who worry, moreover, about mass poultry production and how chickens are killed and raised, these pheasants enjoyed a wild bird life and generally when they're culled, they go from that to processed, so to speak, instantly.

And, as we now are increasing learning (and which I've known for decades) a natural diet of that type, with what you could locally hunt, is the best thing for you.

Now, as folks around here know I'm a fan of agriculture, and indeed I own beef cattle (although I'd live off of deer, elk and antelope if my wife, who is more of a beef fan, would allow).  And agriculture does have a peculiar role here.  

 Female pheasant hunter, 1960s, Colorado.

Agriculture is, or can be, the enemy of the wild in that it's allowed, as has long been known, civilization to rise.  Only the production of surplus foods can sustain urban development and our type of civilization, even though farmers and ranchers are often shunned by the people who depend upon them 100% in cities.  This has long been known, and some cultural anthropologist in fact make a big deal out of it and sort of smugly argue that all production agriculture is the enemy of the wild.

But in fact, as the National Geographic explores, agriculture can exist and does exist in a blurry line with hunting and gathering in those societies.  Nearly all, but not all, hunter gather societies are actually small farm, hunting, and gathering societies.  That's been obvious for millennia, but is generally ignored.

 Rabbit hunter, early 20th Century.  Rabbit taste nearly identical to chicken, and is the leanest meat on the planet.  It's so lean, in fact, you can't survive on a diet of it alone.  In many nations, domestic rabbit is a common table item.  It oddly isn't in the U.S., but there's no good reason for that. Wild rabbit taste like chicken and can be used anywhere chicken is.

Okay, so what's all this have to do with diet?

Just this.  While it puts me in the category of food campaigners, a wild diet is the best diet, and some direct relationship with your food is vastly superior to none.  People who sit around extolling vegetarianism or veganism are largely allowed to do that on the backs of farmers who are supporting their pagainistic anti natural dietary beliefs.  People who have a direct relationship with consumption and understand it (the two not necessarily being the same) tend to feel differently.

 Trout fishing in the Catskills.  Fishing is really fish hunting, and I've always thought that people who try to make a distinction between hunting and fishing are fooling themselves.  For that matter, anyone who eats fish, poultry or meat and doesn't think that they'd personally hunt or fish is really fooling themselves anyhow.  While on this, I'll also note that I truly find the modern emphasis on "catch and release" a bit bizarre.

Even now, in the 21st Century, many of us could have that direct relationship.  Most urbanites have the room to plant a garden (and yes, I've done so in the past but haven't the past several years, so I'm being a bit hypocritical).  And hunting is on the rise in the United States.  Taking some of your food in the field, either by hunting or fishing, is to be encouraged, and not only has the benefit of giving you a diet that somewhat replicates the one you are evolved to actually eat, but it gives you a lot of exercise as well.  Indeed, something non hunters don't appreciate is that the actual work in hunting involved can be quite intensive, and usually really dedicated hunters in the west try to stay in shape for that reason.  For those who can't do that, a direct relationship with your beef supplier, or pork supplier, or poultry supplier, is nearly always possible.  The cow in our freezer has always been the trendy "grass fed" beef just because of that sort of, but of course it's one of our own that's a "volunteer" having determined to retire from calf raising.

 World War One vintage poster campaigning for War Gardens, which the U.S. encouraged to be planted in towns and cities.

 World War Two photograph of a Victory Garden being planted.  This fellow had such a big yard (its in a town) that he's acquired a tractor to do it.

 School Gardens probably passed away about the time this poster was made during World War One, but there's plenty of space in most urban areas for yard gardening.

There's no down side to any of this, and we can only hope that this trend continues in the future, with more hunting, gathering and planting, on their own.  Shoot, most urban areas are so darned boring in real terms, the benefits can hardly cease.

Deer hunter bringing in a deer on skies. The uninitiated will think, "oh surely, that's the far distant past". Well, not always.  I haven't hunted deer on skies, but I have hunted snowshoe hares on skies many times.

Wednesday, September 13, 2023

Going Feral: Fishing season is over, and hunting season has begun.

Going Feral: Fishing season is over, and hunting season has begun.

Fishing season is over, and hunting season has begun.

I am, by vocation, a hunter.  A hunter of wildlife and fish.  And I'm not exaggerating.

This isn't a hobby with me.  I'm stuck in a feral past, or perhaps a more feral future, but lving in the present.  

And I'm more of a hunter than a fisherman, in contrast with my father, who was the other way around

The first two seasons of the year open on September 1.  Like most years, due to my occupation (which most people, at least who are professionals, would claim as their vocation, although I'd wager that it is with less than half, very conservatively), I worked.  Opening weekend for me, therefore, is usually when I first get out, and I first get out for the greatest of the wild grouse, Blue Grouse.

They are, I'd note, delicious.


This is a somewhat complicated story, but because of the route I take in, I need permission to cross, which is always forthcoming but I didn't hear back in time this year. That meant that I needed to drive into a location a good two miles further from my normal jumping off point.


And the road, due to the heavy rains this year, and the winter snow, was eroded to impassable. So the walk was further than expected.


But still very pretty, in the morning light.

Because of the very long hike, and my recent surgery, I armed myself with a kids model 20 gauge and buttoned my shirt up to my neck.  Because my old M1911 campaign hat was a casualty of a rattlesnake event two years ago, I wore a replacement United States Park Service campaign hat.  I don't like it nearly as much as my old M1911.

I will say that those wearing synthetic hats are, well, missing the point, and the boat.


The entire trip involves some mountain climbing for the dog.


The dog won't eat in the morning (poodles and doodles are strange about this) due to excitement, so I packed his uneaten breakfast with me. When we hit the high country, he was by that time hungry, in spite of his excitement.


Those boots?  White's smoke jumpers.  Best boots ever.


We hike a fair amount. The dog drank out of a few streams, but I also carry a canteen and he's learned to drink out of a canteen cup.



We found and bagged two young grouse.




And ate them one that evening.  I fried both, that night, and had the second one, reheated the second evening.
 

The Range Finder.