Friday, November 30, 2012

OUT!! #17: Nature I Loved

There's always a certain quality to outdoor life stories that have us drawn in again and again and again. Not survival stories necessarily, but a good "I'm going to the woods to find out who I am" sort of story. "Nature I Loved" by Bill Geagan is just such a story. The blurb on the back of the book describes the basic plot as the following: "Badgered by his parents to settle down, find a good job, and get married, Geagan spent two years alone thinking things over. He found good solutions. Full of hunting and fishing scenes, young and old alike will identify with this heartwarming true story."

The real sticking point for me was that, as a lover of the outdoors and of Mother Nature herself, I've always been intrigued by the prospect of an outdoor life by doing a combination of self sufficient living and woodsman skills. But I always felt I fell short, either in regard to basic survival skills to the remoteness that Geagan experienced back in those days and even whether I could even undertake such a seemingly monumental task. I remember picking this book up as a freshman at Unity College and reading it cover to cover. The journey Geagan was taking seemed so distant from what my path seemed to be at the time: a college aged boy learning the skills and concepts he would need to get a job in the wildlife management field and then go on to live his life according to that plan. However recently, as I spend my days sitting and reading and thinking (my current job has a lot of down time), I've come to relate to some of the themes brought about by the author. I can relate to the sense of hopelessness one feels when they cannot find something they like or want to do as well as the societal expectations one feels pressured upon them when they can't get a job quickly enough or even one associated with their degree of study. I feel fortunate though that during the period Geagan lived in, I don't have to live under the same conditions. Having been published in the 50s, the idea of settling down with a good job and a family on the way seemed like the perfect model for life at the time. Thank goodness he took a different path. (Mind you he got "there" eventually, but by no means in a conventional manner.)

I love stories like this with their rich descriptions of nature and its wonders, but also the hard reality of the situation he put himself in so he could find his true passion in life. As I was reading over it today, I read a paragraph that reassured a position I'd held for a while, but never had the courage to hold aloft as my own. No worries though. It's not a major character issue or problem, but instead the idea of beauty vs. function when it comes to fishing flies. I'm the type of person that will use something over and over again because it works as opposed to what it looks like. This is why I prefer using hand-tied nymph flies over dries. This is primarily because dries are supposed to imitate a specific surface insect form while a nymph can be bushy, pulled loose, and wooly without the fish paying too much mind to it. It's also because I tie really crappy dry flies. What's most important however, is the motion given to the fly or lure that will attract the fishes attention, rather than size, shape, or bold and bright colors. Geagan writes of an angler he met in his first summer while chopping wood at his cabin and describes the flies the man was using as "…very large, very gaudy, and very heavily dressed wet flies tied on huge hooks that somebody had unloaded on him." While it is true that some of the most complex salmon flies ever tied are beautiful pieces of art (as seen below), as Geagan describes, they are woefully overdressed for most situations.
The Green Highlander. More appropriately designed to capture the attention of humans than of trout.
Geagan said it best on pg. 158 when he described how they were more often human attraction devices than fish catching ones.
"With the white hair from the tail of the deer, also squirrel hair, feathers from the hens, and what materials I had in my kit, I was able to turn out a large number of streamers, also wet flies and tiny dry flies. My flies were far from first class. They would never have sold in the stores. But they weren't tied for fisherman, they were tied for fish and they caught them and stood up well under the punishment. Most flies I have seen in the shops were tied to attract the fisherman. And they buy them at prices I have always thought were much too high. The flies are gaudy and usually too heavily dressed to fool fish, particularly those wise old guys on waters that are fished hard."
I'm always amazed by the simplicity presented in this book, how function generally trumps form and how a little ingenuity and thinking can yield much better results than just sticking to convention. That's ultimately what brings me back to the book over and over again. Having some different idea or concept from everyone else and trying to work it out another way rather than hopelessly grinding away at tried and worn out trails to the same future trodden on by the feet of so many others. It's exactly what Thoreau described when he explained that "most men lead lives of quiet desperation…" We all want avoid that trap, so I give you the advice of another one of America's greats, Mark Twain.
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
 Thank you for reading and have a lovely weekend.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

OUT!! #16: Mallards are Whores!

I was going to supplement the attention-seeking title above with more appropriate photos, but the ones I took today are gone. Why you ask? My ƒ%&$ing computer decided to delete not only the photos I took today, but also iPhoto crashed during final upload meaning that all the wonderful photos I took for my other sites are gone. GONE! Siiiigh, damn you technology.

Back to the subject at hand, I do have pictures of a similar hybrid/manky birds that will suit the purposes of this post well enough. Hopefully, I can make my point just as well with them.

The reason for the provocative title is because as any waterfowl biologist, birder, and aviculturists will tell you, Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos) are adulterous rapists. You heard me right. As shocking as this may seem, it is easy to write off the Mallard as a species is a diverse mishmash of colors, sizes, distributions, and origins. It's even been considered a complex much like the many circumpolar gull species that are present in the northern hemisphere, but I digress. Due to it's almost international distribution and presence on any available water body, it can live pretty much anywhere where there's food, shelter, and of course, water.

However, this presents problems for two species unique to North America, the American Black Duck (A. rubripes) and Mottled Duck (A. fulvigula). While similar in appearance the Black Duck is named for its dark body plumage, while the Mottled Duck lives up to its name by the male and female of the species possessing mottled plumage. As with the Mallard, the sexes can be separated by bill color with males possessing yellow-green bills and females sporting orange bills with brown blotches. The main problem for these birds is that they're similarly colored to female mallards and through no fault of their own often end up producing hybrid young. Whether or not this is due to being previously related to mallards in the past is to be decided in a later post (see end of this post)















As explained in the initial paragraph, I saw several "manky" birds today (to steal a phrase from here) that seemed to either be fertile hybrids or inbred with feral waterfowl. But due to a technological glitch and iPhoto system failure on my end, I don't have any of those photos any more. (I'll save the weeping for later ;_; ) However, below I've included some pictures from my Florida trip earlier this year as well as some other photos of the "Mallard complex". See if you can spot the weird ones.






Did you guess correctly? If not, you can clearly see that the fourth and fifth pictures clearly show a rufous-looking male Mallard with more extensive chestnut on his breast and belly than a normal gray-bodied male. Since I can't be sure of its origins, I can only speculate that it's more likely to be a feral cross than a wild bird cross. As for what can be done about it, that "Mallard complex" I was talking about earlier might be to blame. I'd go on to explain further, but due to the lateness at the time of writing this, I'm inclined to stop. Here however is another example of the fine complexities that Mallards display with some of the problems mentioned here.


For the final post this month, I might explore this subject a bit more by explaining my take on the "Mallard complex". I do this because of my interest in waterfowl in general, but also because I have an interest in the kind of results hybridization can have on separate species and populations. Hopefully I can explain it with better descriptions and pictures than I was able to do here. Until then, I hope you all have a lovely weekend outside in the wild blue yonder.

Update: It would appear that my computer saved the pictures of the manky mallards I wanted to post on here in the first place. Therefore, I'm going to include those pictures in this post to show what I was trying to illustrate before I supposedly lost everything. I will reiterate my point when I write more thoroughly about species complexes next week for the final posting of the month. I need to remember that this blog is for all things wildlife and associated with wildlife problems, people, and events so by focusing on a whole big taxonomic thing, I end up doing more of a service that way. Also if I want to rant about birds whenever, I'll just do so on the birding blog here. Now that that's out of the way, I'll leave you to appreciate the pictures I still had even if iPhoto seemed to crash and lose them all.



It was these three specifically show a dark bodied male Mallard but plumage details such as lack of a neck ring, overall dark body color, and lack of a defined breast color might point to a manky bird or fertile hybrid.

All I can say for sure is that while they add diversity to the field in terms of what one can see in the colors of the species, in the end, it just makes it a hell of a lot more confusing.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

OUT!! #15: Hunting Redux

This past week I finished an excellent book that illustrates the dilemma that I'm feeling at the moment. I'm keen to get into hunting both as an addition to my other outdoor activities such as canoeing, fishing, and birding and as a means to provide a natural form of protein in my diet, but finding ways to start is often daunting. From various hunting related articles and shows that I've seen I'm keen to experience nature in the closer forum that hunters engage in, but also to be a part of a natural process that we are increasingly becoming estranged from as time goes on.

"Call of the Mild: Learning to Hunt My Own Dinner" by Lynn Raff McCaulou is just the volume to help me with my small plight. Having gotten my hunters education squared away, finding opportunities to be able to go out and experience the hunter's point of view has proven to be my primary sticking point, as well as not having legal arms to pursue game with. (What about that bow you mentioned in OUT!! #1 you might suggest? Well that was sold for gas money so I'm in a bit of a hole at the moment.)

Ms. McCaulou's journey started after moving to Oregon for a change from the NYC urban life she was living as an assistant in the Indie film industry. She picked up a reporting job where she began to meet hunters who would talk about how much their sport means to them and how they care about the animals they seek for sport and food. This led McCaulou to look into her own views about the environment and how they fit in with a viewpoint consistent with the agenda the hunters put forward as well as her own beliefs about the environment we all share for recreation and resources alike. This doesn't mean however that she accepted hunting outright after hearing a few good stories from local hunters. She did what anyone would do if shifting to something that is different from ones prior experiences and goes through a process that includes her assumptions about herself, her confidence to pull through on her goal to hunt, and her belief that she had the strength of will and spirit to be able to pursue this blossoming dream of hers. What she wrestles with most is the idea of taking the life of an animal. She references Bambi as a point in her childhood where she makes the connection that the reason hunters hunt is because they hate their prey and want to destroy them. As she thought about what taking the life of an animal means to her, questions like "Is it justified?" and "Will the guilt drag me down?" feature prominently throughout the book and her thought process. She eventually learns to manage the guilt by coupling it with the idea that by selecting one animal to be killed for food, it allows others to survive and perpetuate the species for future hunters to enjoy.

As her confidence grows, she finds that she is reclaiming or even resuming a once forgotten place in the natural world as a creature surviving on the meat of a fellow creature. She also recognizes her role as a hunter ensures money is provided to conservation efforts to purchase habitat for game and non-game alike, as well as, providing funding for research and monitoring on wildlife populations on both state, federal, and where applicable, private lands. As I finished the book, it reiterated a theme that I feel not only in my own life, but have seen elsewhere as well. The more technology one surrounds themselves with, the further they are from the heart of this world. We can hide ourselves from the soil and leaves and trees and animals, but we are still part of this big, wide world that we call home. We can claim human privilege and uniqueness, but ultimately we are organisms that need food, shelter, water, and sunlight for survival, but these are but basics. If we are to survive, we need to focus on the planet and how our needs reflect sustainable use of those resources we need to survive.

Personally, I see hunting as a method as surviving in a world that's plagued by meat of questionable origin and treatment before killing for our consumption. It also helps to know where ones food comes from and through that virtue, being able to provide that essential food for oneself and others who desire it. After watching several episodes of Fieldsports Britain on YouTube, I've become enamored with air guns and their simplicity, as well as effective use to dispatch a variety of pest and small game species. I want to start off slowly, with smaller prey that will allow me to hone my skills towards something larger or quicker, like ducks, or turkey, or deer. Hopefully, I can get myself on the next step towards hunting proficiency and be able to effectively take game safely and fairly. After reading this account about a fellow "adult on-set hunter", I can only hope for the best and learn the skills that will help me assume the mantle of an ethical, but effective hunter.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

OUT!! Disclaimer

Having recently started a surveying position in Norwalk, CT this past week, I haven't been able to update as frequently, but since it's the start of a new month, I will put this back on track today. Thank you guys for being patient. In case you were curious, the family friends I'm staying with still don't have electricity about four days after Sandy hit, but hopefully they'll have their power back by the end of this weekend.

To everyone else who's suffered loss or damage in this storm, my heart, thoughts, and feelings go out to you and I hope you can get back to normalcy as quickly as possible. To those folks on Staten Island, NY, Hoboken, NJ, and other affected areas, I wish the best for you and can only hope for a speedy recovery.