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Booshway
Picture of NWTF Longhunter
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For you youngin's that don't know what a brownie camera is, it's what was used back in the day 30's an 40's. It was a box about 4 or 5" square an ya held it down around yer waist an looked into the view finder in the top. The subject was upside down as I recall an when ya got em centered ya pushed the button. Boy, that memorie jus rose from the grave.. Smiler
 
Posts: 797 | Location: Michigan | Registered: 29 April 2006Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Hey oldtimer!---them Brownie's were still alive and well in the '50s. We had a 'family Brownie' up till the '60s.

Your mom must've known you were marked for greatness when she took that pic! Haw! Haw!

Snickerin'Sticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Our family had a brownie too.I recognize the general look of the pics


Beer is proof that God loves us,and wants us to be happy-B. Franklin
 
Posts: 2014 | Location: Oreegun Territory | Registered: 24 March 2013Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Speaking of dirty ol' egg suckin' blacksnakes . . .

My great Uncle Doc was one of the last old time blacksmiths. Been to his forge many a time. It was known as a grand thing to have one of his forge welded fish gigs. I've got the one my dad had. His place was perched on a ridge high above Buffalo River from way before the gov'ment took it. One day he got squirrel hungry. Left his forge, grabbed his rifle and lit out across the mule pasture where ol' Paul and ol' David stood at the gate wagglin' their fence-palin' ears at him. Yonder was a scope of woods atop a bluff overlooking the valley of the Buffalo. He headed to it.

Uncle Doc was skulking through the woods easy-like, lissenin', watchin'. Dreckly he heard a peculiar "thump!" Paused a minute, craned his neck around. Took another step or two. "Thump!" Turned his ears that direction, listened again. Dreckly, "thump!" A man can spend his whole life in the woods and never hear that. Gets his curiosity up. "Thump!" In a bit, "thump!" That did it. Squirrel huntin' went by the wayside. He'd hunt the thump . . .

He finally got a line on it and crept that direction. Two or three steps, pause, watch, listen. "Thump!" Gingerly creepin' along . . . Finally he knew it was coming from just there . . .

Uncle Doc worked his up behind a big tree, hugged against it and peered around the trunk. Couldn't see a thing at first. Then movement at the base of a saplin'. The head of a blacksnake rose from the forest floor leaves. Stre-e-e-e-tched up the saplin' and climbed it. It got several feet from the ground and crawled out an overhanging limb. Then let go. "Thump!" Hit the ground and nearly bounced. Up stretched the head again. Back up the saplin'. Out on the limb. Let go. "Thump!" That was a head scratcher for Uncle Doc. Finally, he couldn't stand it any more and shot the snake.

He discovered that it was an odd shaped snake. It was lumpy all up and down its whole six foot length. Out with his folding knife. Slit the snake from stem to stern . . . and out rolled a whole line of wooden nest eggs! Best Uncle Doc could figure was the creature got to robbin' the henhouse nests, found nothing but nest eggs and gulped every one of 'em right down the hatch. Then found it couldn't digest 'em. Came up with the great idea to climb a tree, fall out and try to bust 'em up so they'd digest. Uncle Doc swore to the truth of that till the day he died . . .

Fiddlesticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
Picture of NWTF Longhunter
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Sticks, I'm thinkin yer Uncle Doc was as good a story teller as you..maybe a little better Big Grin
 
Posts: 797 | Location: Michigan | Registered: 29 April 2006Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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You mean you've never gone "thumper huntin'"? In our old age we'd best take a fowler loaded with a plenteous dose of shot . . .

Grabbin'formypowderhorn'Sticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Hmm,I've never run across a snake too stupid to tell the difference between a real egg,and a fake....


Beer is proof that God loves us,and wants us to be happy-B. Franklin
 
Posts: 2014 | Location: Oreegun Territory | Registered: 24 March 2013Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Did you ever get down to chin level with one? Peer at his eye? They're pretty dumb lookin'.

'Course you might hafta pull 'im loose from your nose if he thought it was an egg . . .

Soresnozz'Sticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Heh,yeah,well,my nose is shaped more like a potato than an egg......


Beer is proof that God loves us,and wants us to be happy-B. Franklin
 
Posts: 2014 | Location: Oreegun Territory | Registered: 24 March 2013Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Pilgrim
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Slip a little snake in your buddies minnow bucket. Gets real funny real quick! Well, maybe not for your buddy. Big Grin
 
Posts: 82 | Location: north georgia | Registered: 12 April 2013Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Heh heh . . . You'd do to watch Brian. Eerily similar to some fellers I grew up with . . .

Puts me in mind of trappin' minners in a little branch that ran into Clear Creek. Wasn't big or deep enough to hold reg'lar fish, but was paradise for slicks'n'shiners'n'topwaters. We'd bait a trap with bread and sink it in a good place. Things is, water snakes would come from everywhere when it collected a good mess of minners in it. They'd swim by and look and lick their lips and figure out how to get in there. 'Course they couldn't figure a way back out when they needed a gulp of air, and drowned. Most I recollect catchin' was seven snakes in one trap. All dead. And both ends of the trap were closed off because the last two snakes trying to get in were too big for the hole; got mebbe half way. Couldn't back out, either. Still had a pretty good bait of minners left alive, though. Went a'fishin' . . .

Naturally we didn't play any dirty tricks on each other . . .

Snakecatchin'Sticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Oh yes,naturally......*snicker*


Beer is proof that God loves us,and wants us to be happy-B. Franklin
 
Posts: 2014 | Location: Oreegun Territory | Registered: 24 March 2013Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Wal, there was this time that my Uncle Ermon and I went a'fishin' down to the Hagy Hole (holes of water were named for the folk who owned 'em). The Hagy hole was one of the few long, slower moving holes in our rapid little creek. It was deepish plumb across it. We were going at night, after bullheads. The Hagy hole was one of the few places to find 'em; bullheads were the only kind of catfish in Clear Creek. They were mighty tasty coming from cold, clear water. Bein' from central California, my uncle had never seen one. I explained what we'd do to ketch'em, how we'd build a fire on the creek bank, and listen to the whippoorwills and bullfrogs, how the fire would shine across the creek to the big bluff over there and the shadows would flit and jump about. How it'd be awhile before the fish bit and they'd start off pretty slow but gains speed for awhile, then shut off all at once and we'd be done. I told him how me an'Dale Tabor would sometimes be there till nearly dawn, and the dew would be thick in the creek bottom grass as we trudged back home. Ohhh, he seemed to like hearing that . . .

Only thing I 'forgot' to tell him was how them bullheads would bite back. Mighty nigh skin your knuckles. And every time they plumb swallered the hook. Wal, you can't always take a feller by the hand and lead around like a little kid . . . So we sat, all eased back in the peace of those favorite kinds of yore-days we all recollect. I was on one side of the fire and Unc, he was across it over there. Each was just out of the glow to where we could hardly see one another. Yonder were the bluff shadows skipping about like calves in the meadow.

From out of the darkness came Unc's whisperish voice, "I'm getting a bite!" I said, "When 'e makes one strong pull, r'ar back an' let 'im have it!" Dreckly, "I've got him!" I could hear Unc cranking the reel, hear his feet kicking around in the sandy bank. I caught the motion of him standing to his feet . . . a flash of the bending pole in the firelight . . . Heard a fish flopping about. Then, "They're awful slick, aren't they?" "Roll 'im a little in the sand," said I. And waited. "Watch out for the fins," I coached, "They're mighty sharp." (Got him to concentrate just on the fins, y'see.)

Ever hear something you'd been waiting to hear? Something you'd plotted for? Maybe because some folks think they know too much? Not that my uncle was much that way. But in some cases it's best to let 'em learn what they don't know right off the bat. Came the music . . . "OW! That thing bit me! Skinned my hand! I'm bleeding!" Sometimes it doesn't take any longer to look at a cold fish than it does a hot horseshoe. That bullhead must've been mighty tired of ploppin' in that sandy bank by then. When I supposed he'd picked it back up, I said, "Yeah, them bullheads are bad to bite a feller. What ye wanna do is hook yer thumb in the corner of 'is mouth an' prize it open t'where ye can git yer hook back out. They swaller 'em plum to th'bottom of thur gullet."

Wal, ol' Unc passed the test into the Ozark ways of doin'. And believe me he could put it out as well as take it in. I'd as soon not tell them stories. I buried him a few years ago. He died on Thanksgiving Day that year. I was there when he passed. Don't know that I told that story at his funeral, but I should have . . .

Fiddlesticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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If he was from central Cali.,he shoulda known 'bout bullheads,that's where I learned 'bout 'em...Oh well,he did learn eventually....Hehe.


Beer is proof that God loves us,and wants us to be happy-B. Franklin
 
Posts: 2014 | Location: Oreegun Territory | Registered: 24 March 2013Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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I'll be dogged! I heard him talk of bluegills and crappie. Bullheads would've been in the same waters; glad he finally got broke in on 'em. He fished mostly in the Tualomne . . . too-all-omee (?) river system. Used to hear him talk about the salmon runs there back in the day. My dad, too. They both got transplanted from these ol' Ozarks in the '30s when they were young'uns. Were fruit workers amongst the dust bowl emigration. Dad told how he lived the 'Grapes of Wrath'. Anyhow, that's why I was born in California in '50. We got outta there in '58.

Dunno why Unc didn't know about bullheads already. Glad he had me for a teacher . . .

Tutor'Sticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Me too buddy,his education woulda' been sadly lacking.


Beer is proof that God loves us,and wants us to be happy-B. Franklin
 
Posts: 2014 | Location: Oreegun Territory | Registered: 24 March 2013Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
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quote:
Anyhow, that's why I was born in California in '50. We got outta there in '58.


Why you're just a youngun!
Its good that you got out of California as soon as you could. I was born in New Jersey, but I also got out there as quick as I could once I saw the light.

Okay, another serpent story; Back in the '80's I was a US border patrolman stationed down in Yuma, Arizona. I was working the line one day near the dusty, sun-burnt little town of San Luis. Two other guys were working San Luis in plain clothes and in an unmarked car. Just outside of town I saw an obese Mexicana come through a hole in the fence and waddle off towards the mercado. I caught her easily, and took her right back to Mexico. But, those other two guys saw it, and they laughed and rankled me for the next couple of hours about catching that fat old lady.
Well, I went off making a patrol along the border fence, going out several miles into the Yuma Desert. I saw the marks in the sand made by a fairly large snake, so I tracked it down. I found the bull snake (also called a gopher snake) coiled up under a greasewood bush.
It was about a 4 foot long snake, but harmless, and relatively docile. I picked it up and put in the paperbag that I had brought my lunch in. Then I headed back in to town.
I found those two guys parked in the shade of a large cottonwood tree. I pulled up beside them, on the passenger side of their car. I told Carl that I had been eating too much junk food and asked if they wanted some cupcakes.
Sure, they said, so I handed the bag over to him and drove away.
I watched in my rearview mirrow as I heard them yelling at the top of their lungs, and saw them both bail out of their car.
For some time after that those two had nothing nice to say about me. I can't imagine why.


Know what you believe in. Fight for your beliefs. Never compromise away your rights.
 
Posts: 1296 | Location: Cherokee Land, Tenasi | Registered: 06 January 2011Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Looks like they'd admire a feller what could run down a fat woman and track a snake!

Hard to find true friends, ain't it . . .

Fiddlesticks


As long as there's Limb Bacon a man'll eat! (But mebbe not his wife...)
 
Posts: 4816 | Location: Buffalo River Country | Registered: 23 October 2004Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Booshway
Picture of NWTF Longhunter
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Eeker

 
Posts: 797 | Location: Michigan | Registered: 29 April 2006Reply With QuoteReport This Post
Factor
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Heh,I can run down a fat woman,but I don't know 'bout tracking a snake...... Razzer


Beer is proof that God loves us,and wants us to be happy-B. Franklin
 
Posts: 2014 | Location: Oreegun Territory | Registered: 24 March 2013Reply With QuoteReport This Post
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