sprintflyer
Cadet
- Joined
- May 20, 2002
- Messages
- 16
My Transformation To An Outdoorsman<br />By Shane Lyall<br /><br /> First I must set the stage for my story. Two 11 year old boys who would live on the river bank or in the woods if it were not for the slew foxes and the mad rabies infested mud turtles that only prowl around after dark in this part of the south. <br /><br /> At least that is what old man Crowse would tell us when he caught us rambling around his barn after dark.Some folks said he made moonshine but I never did find any reason to believe that a seventy three year old man who never worked a day in his life shouldn't ride a new Cadillac and live in the finest home in the "bottoms."<br /><br /> I moved into the hollow when I was about seven or eight years old and that is when the transformation started. You must understand my family is not,by any stretch of the imagination,a "outdoor"type of people.<br /><br /> They are more at home at brunch or on a snooty golf course than in their own back yard. They are the type of people who turn up there nose at any fishing or hunting endeavor and label it as uncouth and barbaric to harm defenceless animals but will put on a fur coat or leather shoes any time there is a black tie affair.<br /><br /> Enter my new best friend and all hell breaks loose!<br /> <br /> The first time my father ever laid eyes on Marv it was just dusky dark and he was doing a belly crawl across our front yard in full camo and face paint.<br />He was on a bait gathering mission for a cat fishing trip we had planed that night. As young Marv commandeer up to my father he looked up an told us," E'm night crawlers gots eyes good as any turkey an if'n ye ain't real careful they'll wind ye an run off!" <br /><br /> "Dam that boy is weird son"Was dear old dads reply as Marv did his best Rambo impersonation around the corner of our house never lifting his nose more than three inches from the ground."Sometimes you can smell e'm but it 'pends on what they's been a eat'n."<br /><br /> Father just shook his head and smiled.<br /> <br />I can remember a time when Marv ,single handed,caused the evacuation of a three square mile area and a red alert of the Virginia Haz-Mat Team.<br />It was a scary situation seeing the huge plume of green smoke billowing up from the vicinity of Marv's house and knowing his parents were away on vacation. <br /><br /> When Dad went to check on him he described the scene as Marv cooking God only knows in a wash tub siting in a fire pit and stirring it with a boat paddle."I's fixin' to cure cancer er' somethun' like it with this here brew"He said. Dad looked at me and said "Dam that boy is weird"<br /> <br /> One summer afternoon Marv suggested we swap work so we could do some frog gigging that night.<br /> For those of you from urban areas who might not know of this practice, out here in farm country we would do what was known as "swapping work".<br />I would help get his chores done and then he would help me get mine and we would be off to the fishing hole that much quicker.<br />I agreed and we had to do a little weed cutting at his place.<br /> Now,Marv always had an old beagle or two around and for some reason they were always ill tempered.<br />Marv stepped inside the dog lot with the weed eater running and one of the "prize winnin' rabbit hounds"as he called them ran out of the dog house and sniped at his ankle. He turned and scolded the dog as it ran back into the doghouse to fast for Marv to catch him.<br /> This same scene unfolded four or five times and I could not help but laugh at him and it only made him worse.<br />In a fit of rage he pulled out about two feet of string on the weed eater and "stuck the snout" inside of the doghouse!<br /> "I'll break e'm sons a bichin' dawgs from bitin' me!" He screamed above the over revved weedeater. Now imagine ,if you can,three beagle dogs and a wide open weedeater in one 4'x4' doghouse.<br /><br /> We didn't get any frog gigging in that night because after we doctored the prize winning dogs and nailed the tin roof back on the doghouse the mood had passed.<br /><br /> I have learned a lot from Marv,Mostly what NOT to do, but he is one of the best outdoorsmen and dearest friends I have ever known.<br /> If I had not met him as a child I may have followed the path of my forefathers and found enjoyment in a glass of wine at an art exhibit instead of a cold beer savored from the front seat of a bass boat on a hot July evening.<br />Thank you Marv.<br /><br /> Marv and I sill fish together from time to time and just the other day I pulled into his driveway to pick him up for a trip to our local lake. He was on the front porch moo-ing at his pet cow, spot,and he called out "come on up here an' drank one with me a'fore we head out."<br /><br />As we sat and talked about the good ol' days his son came running up on the porch wearing two different shoes and said <br /><br />"Paw, Do chicken *****s got nipples on e'm?" <br /><br />Marv looked at me, smiled, and said "Dam 'at boy's weird ain't he?
