Southern Traditions Outdoors - November - December 2014

Complimentary Copy November - December 2014
DUCK NUMBERS ARE UP!
OLD POPS
WINTER CRAPPIE
GIVING THANKS
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NOVEMBER - DECEMBER 2014 | SOUTHERN TRADITIONS OUTDOORS 32 SOUTHERN TRADITIONS OUTDOORS | NOVEMBER - DECEMBER 2014
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Southern Traditions Outdoors | Rob Somerville
(731) 446-8052 stomag1@gmail.com
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On the Cover
Camaraderie, listening to hound music and bagging a few rabbits makes for a great day in the outdoors.
Photo by Paul Moore
Southern Traditions Outdoors Magazine Mission Statement:
Southern Traditions Outdoors Magazine vows to put forth a publication to
promote the outdoors lifestyle in a positive manner. We will strive to encourage
veteran and novice outdoorsmen, women, kids, and the physically challenged
to participate in the outdoors in a safe and ethical manner. Our publication will
bring positive attention to the wondrous beauty of the world of Nature in the
mid-south.
Garry Mason
Walter Wilkerson
Terry Wilkerson
Steve McCadams
Kelley Powers
Shawn Todd
Eddie Brunswick
Larry Self
John Sloan
Richard Simms
John Meacham
Buck Gardner
Scott Marcin
Ed Lankford
Drew Brooks
John Latham
John Roberts
Paul E. Moore
Rob Hurt
Mark Buehler
Field Staff Editors
Owners - Eddie Anderson
Rob Somerville
Kevin Griffith
Stacey Lemons
Publisher - Eddie Anderson
Editor - Rob Somerville
Magazine Design - Kalli Lipke
Advertising Sales
Rob Somerville - Managing
Partner
Distribution
Johnathan Anderson
Mike Robinson
Southern Traditions Outdoors Magazine, LLC
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PG................... ARTICLE........................................................... AUTHOR
6...........................Old Pops - Fiction...............................................................Rob Somerville
14..........................Ducks at All Time High........................................................Steve McCadams
22..........................Winter Crappie....................................................................Steve McCadams
30..........................Cooking on the Wildside.....................................................Kevin Griffith
34..........................Time for Rabbit Season......................................................Paul E. Moore
42..........................Family Tradition..................................................................Shawn Todd
46..........................Collector’s Corner...............................................................Rob Hurt
49..........................Business Profile..................................................................STO
52..........................Trophy Room......................................................................STO
From the Desk of the Editor
One of America’s most cherished holidays will soon be upon us
….. Thanksgiving.
To some, this day means a special dinner of turkey and dressing,
with all varieties of special foods and desserts to compliment it. To
others it means watching football games on TV. Many look forward
to this holiday, to spend time with friends and family, whose busy
schedules have kept away for far too long. Many families gather
in prayer, to offer thanks to God, for all of the bountiful blessings
in their lives.
Recently, I spent some time pondering this holiday, as I sat in
a deer stand, watching the world of nature evolve around me. I
thought about how fortunate I was to live in a country that stood
up for the oppressed, and that doesn’t tolerate terrorists “coming
in to our backyard” and messing with our people. Further thoughts
brought to mind about how fortunate I was to live in a country that
still gave me the right to bear arms and enjoy the hunting heritage
that has become an important symbol of America – the greatest
country in the world!
Those of you who love to hunt should just imagine for a minute,
living in a country with no duck blinds or deer stands, where you
couldn’t hear the mystical music of your dog’s voices as they chase
rabbits through the fields, or coons through the swamps.
I decided then and there, as I sat in my deer stand watching a
family of squirrels chasing each other up and down trees, that this
year would be different. I would honestly give thanks to the Lord
for all that I enjoy in the woods, for my family and friends, and for
all that He has blessed me with. I vowed to quit complaining about
the minor problems I face day to day.
You know, we realize that these complaints are actually petty
when something major comes about, such as illness or death in
our families. They are really trivial, and I find myself looking at
the proverbial glass as being “half empty” instead of “half full”.
I promised, then and there, to be more thankful for what I have
instead of wishing for what I don’t have.
I wrote the following poem for this column in hopes that the
next time you are sitting in a deer stand, chasing a rabbit through
the fields, watching the tip of your crappie pole for that “tell-tale”
twitch of a bite, or scanning the sky for mallards, you too will feel
the need to give thanks to the Master of all that is wild.
Last but certainly not least, I also wish to thank you, our entire
team at STO Magazine, the readers of this magazine, as well as
our fine family of advertisers, for helping to make our publication
a success.
Happy Thanksgiving and God bless you and yours.
- Rob Somerville
Giving Thanks
By Rob Somerville
For the turkeys that gobble and for the bass which
leap high,
for the hoot of an owl in the pre-dawn sky.
For the sight of an antlered, whitetail deer,
for the explosion of a quail covey as it bursts
through the air.
For the coyote that howls on full those moon
nights,
I thank you my Father, for these sounds and
these sights.
For the barking of beagles, running hot rabbit
trails,
for the red-tailed hawk, that so gracefully sails.
For the bobcat, so silently stalking its prey,
for the beautiful sunrise on a frost laden day.
For the Black and Tan hound, on a coon as he
bays,
for all of this Lord, it is you who I praise.
For a child’s first fish, with their face all aglow,
for the sound of my arrow as it’s leaving my bow.
For the eyes of a Lab as it’s scanning the sky,
ready for mallards, never questioning why.
For the ancient white oak trees, two-hundred
years old,
not factory-made Lord, only you have the mold.
I thank you dear God, for all of these things,
and the precious times of enjoyment that each of
them brings.

e was a farmer by trade, as
was his dad and granddad
before him. Pops wasn’t a big man,
not physically anyway. He stood
about 5’7” and
weighed only 145
pounds soaking
wet, and that was
with his boots
and coveralls
on. But, he was
tough as rawhide,
without an ounce
of fat on him, for
all his 72 years.
His face was the
color and texture
of worn leather,
from decades of
farming in the
sun and wind. But
his sky blue eyes
twinkled with
the mischief of a
teenager, full of
energy and life.
That August and
early September
seemed to drag
by at school, with
my eyes cutting to
the nearby woods
whenever by
teacher, the kids called “Old Frog
Face,” wasn’t looking. The reason
I was so anxious was because this
fall would be my first deer hunt,
and my granddad, Pops, had been
gearing me up for it since I was
knee high. I was as ready as a
coon dog on a full moon night to
begin.
I’d been walking and learning the
deer woods with Pops since I was
old enough to keep up with him.
I remember once, at age 8, when
we’d walked across his bean field
to the edge of the hard woods,
and sat under a huge, sprawling
oak tree. We sat in silence for
about twenty minutes when Pops
finally looked at me and said,
“What do you see, ‘Lil One’?” I
looked around the
tree, up in the sky,
across the field, and
replied, “Nothin.”
He picked up a
blade of saw grass,
stuck it between his
store-bought teeth,
smiled and sighed,
“Wrong answer.”
I hurriedly looked
again, hoping to
see something,
anything, not
wanting to
disappoint the man
I so idolized. Sadly,
I turned to him,
with lips quivering
and tears beading
up in my eye, and
pleaded, “I don’t
see nothin, Pops.”
He reached for
me and pulled
me onto his lap,
tucking my head
into the crook of his
shoulder, with the
comfortable smell of cherry pipe
tobacco emanating from his soft
flannel shirt, and said, “Now, now,
‘Lil One,’ don’t shed no water. I
didn’t expect you to know the
answer. But let me tell you what I
see. I see this magnificent oak tree
that has stood tall and strong for
over a century of winters. A giant
oak that has fed deer and turkey
and housed squirrels and birds. I
see a pile of coyote droppings at
the edge of the field, full of hair
that tells me the critter had rabbit
for supper. I see the magnificent
sun that God provided us in His
goodness, both critters and human
alike, for light and warmth. But
most of all, I see, smell, hear, and
feel nature. Son, nature fills a man
with peace. No television, phone
calls, or people talkin, but sayin
nothin. This is like my private
church, where I can peacefully
give thanks to Our Maker. And
sometimes, if I’m real still, I
believe He answers me.”
Pops picked me up, holding my
hand, and silently led me into the
hard woods. We came up to old
barbed-wire fence from when he
used to keep cattle. He walked the
fence line, every now and then
getting down on one knee and
examining it. Finally, he found
what he was looking for, and
called me over. He reached over
to a couple of barbs and pulled
strands of white hair off of them.
“Here’s a main crossing,” he said,
and lifted me over the fence to
the other side. He told me to walk
on up ahead of him and I did so
unquestionably. After a couple of
minutes he told me to stop and
look down. When I did, I saw
deer tracks. I looked up at him
in amazement and asked how on
earth did he find them. “I didn’t,
you did,” he replied. You see,
any time you’re walking in the
woods, you’re
going to do
the same thing
that deer do.
You’re gonna
walk along the
path with the
least amount
of obstacles in
your way.” He
looked around
slowly, and
pointed out
two trees, one
on each side
of the main
trail. Walking
down the trail
he pointed out
secondary paths
branching off
the main trail,
and heading
under each tree.
He said, “That
small tree in
the clearing is
a persimmon
tree. In the fall
it will be full
of sour red fruit
that deer sure
do love. And
that there big
tree with the
rounded leaves
is a white oak.
White oak
acorns to deer
are like rock
candy is to
youngins.”
He walked a
continued on next
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little further and found four spots
where the vegetation was matted
down. He felt of the ground and
said, “Here’s their bedroom, still
warm from their nap, and plenty
of wet green droppings. This is
the spot. Since the wind generally
blows from the southwest. We’ll
put your stand on that
big maple over there,
when you’re old
enough to hunt.”
Five long years later
we built that stand out
of rough-hewn, sawmill cypress.
We carried it into the woods
and tied it up to the maple-tree.
Just one more month and I’ll be
in that stand, full of high hopes
and adrenaline. In the following
weeks, after I finished my chores,
Pops and me would ride his old
John Deere tractor to the edge
of the field and watch for deer.
We wouldn’t talk much, because
we didn’t have to. We were both
content to share each other’s
space, chew on a piece of grass
and enjoy the quiet time. I know
now that Pops had work he needed
to be doing, but he never once
turned me down when I asked him
to go. The Friday before opening
morning, Pops made me again
recite the hunter’s safety rules he
had made me memorize. Then he
took me to the barn and Christmas
came in November for me that
year. First he pulled out a new pair
of camouflage, down insulated,
coveralls. Next came an orange
safety vest and knit cap, along
with a pair of buckskin gloves.
And last, but certainly not least,
a spankin’ new 30/30-lever action
Winchester. Now, I knew farming
had been tough lately, so with deep
regret I told him I appreciated the
gifts, but didn’t reckon
I could accept them.
He cleared his voice,
looked me dead in
the eye, and said, “
‘Lil One,’ if you don’t
want to see this old man lose his
temper, you better take this gear
and remember me by it. I won’t be
around much longer, but as long
as you carry that rifle with you
in the woods, a part of me will
always be alive in your spirit. You
see, farming and hunting has been
in our blood far longer than any of
us remembers. I won’t have it stop
now. Now get, before I change my
mind. Don’t worry; I’ll work the
cost out of you with milkin and
such. Now take some of them
pine needles and rub em all over
them fancy duds and throw em in
a tote sack. Otherwise, the deer
will think a 125-pound; thirteen-
year-old skunk has
invaded their woods.
I ran to the house
gobbled down my
dinner and went to bed early.
Try as I might, sleep eluded me.
All I kept seeing was those two
trails with a monster buck strolling
toward me. I probably slept only
an hour or two, but I was awake
and dressed way before first light.
I crept to Pop’s room and opened
the door. His snoring sounded like
Bessie, our big sow hog, rooting
in the mud for table scraps. Pops
blamed his snoring on the time
that fool blue mule kicked him in
his nose and broke it, but Granny
said it was from him sippin out
of his “For Medicinal Purposes
Only” jug after supper! I shook
Pops’ shoulder three times before
he jerked up with a start. “Boy,
don’t ever sneak up on me like
that. I thought the old Grim Reaper
was comin to pay me a visit.” He
got up and we drank a cup of
coffee, as he once again went over
the rules of hunter safety with
me. He checked my new rifle to
ensure it wasn’t loaded, and with
a melancholy look on his face
shooed me out the door, with a
quiet “get em, ‘Lil One.’ “
As I walked across the field to
the woods in the moonlight, I can
admitnowthedarknessandhidden
noises spooked me some. I heard
something coming up behind me
and quickly with more than a little
panic, shone my flashlight shakily
in that direction. To my relief it
was just “Old Jake” my
hound dog.
It took me 10 minutes
to get him to head
home, and I swear he looked at
me like I broke his heart. I finally
found the pin oak tree, and walked
slowly and quietly toe-to-heel like
Pops taught me, and made my
way over the fence. I skirted the
deer trail, like I was taught, to
keep my scent off of it, and finally
found my stand. I tied my rifle to
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All I kept seeing was those
two trails with a monster
buck strolling toward me.
I heard something coming
up behind me and quickly. . .

with shaking hands, and climbed
down the stand. I slowly walked
towards the oak tree with finger
pointed, to show Pops where the
four pointer was when I missed
him. As I topped a small rise not
visible from my stand, I saw it,
one single antler sticking up. My
breath caught in my throat as I
took another step. Another antler.
One more step and the entire deer
was visible. Not sounding near
as confident as I attempted to, I
replied, “Right there.”
Pops let out a holler that caused
a flock of crows across the field
to take flight screeching. He
trotted as fast as a 72-year-old
man with arthritis in every joint
could move and met me at my
deer. We dropped to our knees
simultaneously beside the buck.
Pops put his arms around me and
his head on my shoulder and said,
“Dear Lord, thank you for sending
this magnificent animal of your
creation to my ‘Lil One’ this
mornin, an makin this old man
happy one more time.”
In amazement I felt a warm
tear slide down my Pops’ face
and onto mine, and I hugged him
tighter and tighter. He solemnly
rose, shook my hand, and said,
“Reckon you’re big enough to
hunt em, you’re big enough to
dress and drag em too.” As he
walked away whistling and wiping
his eyes I realized that a baton
had been passed transcending
three generations, a baton of
understanding and enjoying God’s
gifts of nature, of respecting His
creatures, and a continuation of
the tradition of hunting.
That was Pops’ last trip to the
deer woods. He went to heaven
the following spring. He just
collapsed while riding his old
Ford tractor. I reckon he went just
like he’d of wanted to. Now I’m
sitting under that pin oak tree, and
it’s got another thirty winters in its
bark. It’s real quiet, and I swear I
hear a voice say, “Look around
you, ‘Lil One’ … What do you
see?” And I smile and tell him of
all the marvelous sights, sounds
and smells around me. And I
know his spirit is with me now
and always. I sure do miss you,
Pops.
I got shook into reality as I
heard the slam of a car door and
animated voices, and smiled as I
saw the boy. We ran to each other
across the field and he jumped into
my arms. He excitedly squealed,
“Hi Pops.” I smiled at him and
said, “Let’s go take a walk ‘Lil
One’”
the pull rope, climbed up the steps
and sat down. After pulling up my
gun, and putting three shells in it,
I double checked my hammer was
on safety and sat back. I looked
up in the inky black sky and said,
“Lord, if it be your will, bring a
deer by me today.”
Straining my ears, I
never did hear Him
answer.
As jet-black night
changed to blurry
grays, the woods
around me began to come alive
with birds chirping, and squirrels
dancing effortlessly from limb to
limb. The sun began to peer over
the eastern hillside. I felt, more
than saw or heard the old fox
squirrel jump into the branches
above my stand. He scampered
down the tree until he got about
three feet from my head and froze,
turning his head from side to side,
as if in wonder of what this big
motionless blob was, that wasn’t
here yesterday. We both sat in a
moment of frozen silence, staring
into each other’s eyes until all of
a sudden that old squirrel started
barking and chattering. He made
me jump, but when I regained
my composure and looked back
at him, he wasn’t looking at me,
but down the trail leading to the
white oak tree. “You idiot,” I said
to myself, remembering Pops
telling me to tune myself into
nature. He said the mocking birds
and squirrels would let you know
of a deer coming, long before my
inferior human senses would.
There it was, a beautiful fork-
horned yearling, pushing aside
golden leaves in search of acorns,
not 45 yards away. I started easing
my gun up and his head snapped to
attention, nose in the air, nostrils
flaring. He looked around for
about five minutes, before secure
in his knowledge that he was safe;
he resumed the animated search
for his breakfast. He picked up an
acorn, and I could hear the crunch
of its outer shell break the spell he
had cast upon me. Again, I slowly
raised my gun and sighted in on
the yearling. I put my bead right
on the old breadbasket behind his
shoulder and pulled the trigger.
The explosion burst forth a cloud
of pale smoke, smelling of sulfur.
The squirrel above me scampered
through the treetops, hell-bent for
safety. I looked towards the spot
of my quarry, and to my heart’s
dismay, saw nothing. I tried to
stand up, but my legs had suddenly
turned to rubber and I had to sit
right back down, jarring my teeth
with the sudden impact.
I sat that way for several
minutes staring at the area where
my trophy should
be laying, trying to
relive the shot, madder
than Granny when
someone slams a door
and collapses her
homemade cake in the
oven. I bowed my head in shame.
I don’t rightly recall how long I
sat like that, maybe a couple of
minutes and maybe an hour. All of
a sudden my pity party was broke
up by the voice of Pops. “Well,
where’s the meat?” he inquired.
I felt the heat slowly work its
way up my neck and around my
ears, and I simply shrugged. I
emptied my gun, tied it off, and
gingerly lowered it to the ground
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started easing my gun up
and his head snapped to
attention, nose in the air,
nostrils flaring.

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here’s reason for optimism. Tennessee duck
hunters have pep in their step and seem to be
whistling a tune, as the waterfowl season fast ap-
proaches.
In the weeks and months leading up to opening
day, hunters are always asking the question, “How
does the duck season look”?
This year the news is good ….. Real good!
Reports from the breeding grounds released this
summer from the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service,
as to the status of the ducks in the fall flight fore-
cast, has every duck hunter quacking with enthu-
siasm. It was a wet spring on the breeding grounds
of Canadian provinces and throughout the Dako-
tas, where ducks nest and are raised, a scenario
that works in favor of high duck production.
Duck hunters in Dixie know quite well that
winter weather is a key ingredient in the recipe for
a successful duck season, but first you must have
the resource, namely the ducks. Unless the ducks
are there to move, then even cold winter weather
is a moot point.
As the Volunteer State’s 60-day duck season
knocks at the door, waterfowlers are anxious and
eager after absorbing the fall flight forecast data,
and rightfully so.
With a few notable exceptions, North America’s
waterfowl have had a remarkable run according to
Memphis based Ducks Unlimited. Total duck pop-
ulation estimates have hit record highs in three of
the past four years, as exceptionally wet weather
has filled wetland basins across the prairies of the
United States and Canada.
According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service
(USFWS), the 2014 estimate of breeding ducks in
the traditional survey area was 49.2 million birds,
an 8 percent increase from last year’s total and the
largest estimate since standardized surveys began
in 1955.
DUCK NUMBERS AT ALL TIME HIGH
Hunters Hoping For Sensational Season
By Steve McCadams
T
Duck hunters will have another 60-day season and 6-duck daily bag
limit, thanks to a banner year on the breeding grounds. All signs point
to a good season ahead for Tennessee duck hunters.
- Photo by Steve McCadams
It’s hard to find fault with a long season and liberal
bag limit. And, when you add the all-time high esti-
mate of ducks set to wing their way down the Mis-
sissippi flyway, then it’s easy to see why the interest
level of duck hunters has pegged the meter.
A lot of duck hunter across West Tennessee expe-
rienced a good season last year, especially during the
second half. Bitter cold fronts paid frequent visits
throughout January and delivered a lot of new ducks
to the region.
Although duck hunters are always yearning for
cold weather, conditions got a bit too cold during
the last week of season as a lot of blinds in swamps,
flooded grain fields, and open water battled ice. Sin-
gle digit temps changed everything the last week of
season, but ducks poured into West Tennessee in big
numbers as a result.
Most waterfowlers ended the 2013-2014 season
on a good note and the atmosphere of optimism has
lingered ever since.
SEASON DATES/BAG LIMITS
Tennessee’s statewide season will be split and
the majority of duck hunters are delighted to have
a gap between opening weekend and the start of the
second segment.
Dates for the statewide season will be Novem-
ber 22nd
– 23rd
, and November 29th
through January
25th
, 2015. The five day closure should work in favor
of hunters, as it allows ducks to return to popular
feeding and roosting areas without human activity
or hunting pressure. Just a few days free of human
presence should make a difference.
Wildlife management areas across west and middle
Tennessee, where hunting pressure and boat traffic
are an issue, should experience a second opening
weekend offering great hunting. The split season
should work much better for hunters everywhere, as
the ducks and those who hunt them will get a breath-
er, before the second segment kicks in for a 58-day
straight stretch.
The Reelfoot Lake Duck Zone dates differ slightly
from the statewide season with an early opener there
on November 15th
– 16th
. Reelfoot’s second segment,
however, is identical to the statewide season, which
runs from November 29th
through January 25th
, 2015.
Two days will again be devoted to youth water-
fowl hunts. Youngsters from 6 - 15 years of age will
Many species of ducks increased in numbers over last year and hunters are hoping winter weather cooperates and stimulates the migration once
season arrives. - Photo by Rob Somerville
WE BUY, SELL & TRADE FOR VINTAGE:
• DUCK CALLS
• GOOSE CALLS
• HUNTING/FISHING LICENSES
• HUNTING PINS
• DECOYS
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• SIGNAGE/ADVERTISING
• HUNTING RELATED PICTURES

have a chance to hunt after the regular season has
closed. Two separate Saturdays are earmarked. The
first is January 31st
and the second will be February
7th
.
The Reelfoot zone has traditionally experienced
an early weekend in November to open its season, in
hopes of catching the early migration of such species
as gadwall, greenwing teal and widgeon.
Bag limits are the similar to last year and allow
six ducks daily, but not more than four mallards, of
which only two may be hens. The daily bag will al-
low three scaup, three wood ducks, two pintails, two
redheads, one black duck and a reduction this year
on canvasbacks {down from two
last year} to only one.
DUCKS BY THE NUMBERS
“Exceptional water this year will
lead to high duck production,”
said Dr. Frank Rohwer, presi-
dent of Delta Waterfowl. “When
the prairies are really wet, ducks
settle in the best quality habitat.
Hens will nest and re-nest vigor-
ously, and duckling survival will
be high.”
Breeding mallards (10.9 mil-
lion) and gadwalls (3.81 million)
are at the second-highest levels in
the history of the breeding grounds
survey. Green-winged teal (3.44
million) and blue-winged teal
(8.54 million) came in at the third-
highest counts since 1955, while
shovelers (5.28 million) and red-
heads (1.28 million) are at record-
high breeding population levels.
Wigeon increased 18 percent to
3.11 million, while scaup added 11
percent to 4.6 million. Wigeon are
now 20 percent above the long-
term average, which is notable,
given concerns over a declining
population trend in the 1990s and
2000s.
Of the ten key survey species,
only pintails and canvasbacks de-
clined. Pintails dropped by 3 per-
cent to 3.22 million, while canvasbacks were down
13 percent, registering at 685,000.
SEASON AHEAD
The stars are in line for a banner season through-
out the Mississippi flyway and especially here in
West Tennessee where a lot of ducks winter. Thanks
to a combination of factors duck numbers are high
and a long season, offering a wide window of op-
portunity, awaits waterfowlers.
Southern duck hunters always keep their fingers
crossed for good waterfowling weather as it is vi-
Several species, such as these pintails, are above their long-term average giving waterfowlers
reason for optimism. - Photo by Steve McCadams
NOVEMBER - DECEMBER 2014 | SOUTHERN TRADITIONS OUTDOORS 17
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tal to duck activity. Even during years of high duck
numbers, hunters have experienced tough sledding
when warm winters, a lack of wind and water and
long spells of stagnant weather patterns kept ducks
to our north.
Too much water can be a high hurdle too, as it
scatters ducks across portions of West Tennessee,
eastern Arkansas, the Bootheel of Missouri and
Western Kentucky. When the mighty Mississippi
River floods and backs out, it covers thousands of
acres of farmland, where ducks can feed and rest at
their leisure.
For hunters, it’s a roll of the dice at times, as every
day is different in the duck blind. Last season was
warm and wet in the first half, but really changed
during the second half, when frigid conditions en-
tered the picture. Duck numbers swelled and hunting
really improved.
Several wildlife management areas and private
hunt clubs had a wet spring and were unable to plant
corn in many lowland areas. Some units were able
to plant millet later, or farmers came back with soy-
beans, after early corn crops flooded out.
It will be interesting to see how the ducks respond,
once winter arrives. Hunters can control the decoys,
boats, motors, blinds, dog and the food in the blind,
but after that about the only thing they can control is
being there.
No one knows when the good duck weather will
arrive or when the best days of hunting will occur.
That’s why the best time to go hunting is whenever
you can!
Editor’s Note: Steve McCadams is a hunting guide
and outdoor writer from Paris, Tennessee. You can
reach him at stevemc@charter.net.
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hey don’t just vanish into
thin air after spring spawn-
ing. Long after the dogwoods
have bloomed in early April, crap-
pie are still swimming around and
sporting a hefty appetite.
Mention winter fishing to some
folks and they roll their eyes in
disbelief, yet more and more vet-
eran anglers are picking their days
and landing warm memories dur-
ing the winter months. Both Reel-
foot and Kentucky Lakes have
buried treasures waiting to be dis-
covered this time of year.
Some of Reelfoot’s best crap-
pie catches are recorded each
year in the February and March
months. It differs from a reser-
voir like Kentucky Lake in that
it is shallow and the fish don’t
migrate long distances or maneu-
ver around via deep creek chan-
nels and submerged sloughs. Yet,
winter months at the earthquake
lake are productive ,as anglers
slow troll spider rigs over deeper
By Steve McCadams
T
Winter Crappie Will
Warm Your Heart
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stumps and log some the year’s
biggest fish before spring arrives.
Once surface temperatures cool,
during the late fall, crappie tran-
sition back to deeper depths at
places like Kentucky Lake as the
fish follow their forage. Schools
of threadfin shad migrate back to
main lake drop-offs and ledges,
where deeper water offers them
some refuge from drastic changes
in temperature.
Shad like to linger in shallow
water during warmer conditions
and sometimes get caught by a
drastic cold front that can lower
surface temperatures overnight.
The baitfish have little tolerance
for quick drops in temperature
and often go into shock, which is
why anglers sometimes see thou-
sands of them floating or washed
up on shorelines, in the aftermath
of a dramatic cold front during
winter months.
Shad kills are not that unusual
when quick changes occur during
the peak winter weather. It can,
however, make for tough fishing
conditions for a week or so. Crap-
pie, bass, and sauger fishermen
during the winter months have
long known that fishing in the af-
termath of a winter shad kill is al-
most a lost cause, as fish suddenly
have an abundant food source that
makes for easy pickings.
Under normal conditions the
winter months see crappie school
to a great degree and gang up
around deep structure such as
stumps, brushpiles and other man-
made structure, such as stakebeds.
The fish love to occupy cover
found on the deep side of a drop-
off and the popular depth range at
Kentucky Lake is 20 to 25 feet.
Tightlining presentations are the
most popular and bumping bot-
tom with a double-hook rig has
withstood the test of time here.
Some anglers prefer live min-
nows, while others dangle a 1/16
to 1/8-ounce jig on just a single
hook presentation.
Using light monofilament line
is the norm, as the key is to feel
the jig bump against structure and
anglers must watch closely for
light strikes. Popular line sizes
will range from 6 to 10 pound
test when tightlining just jigs,
but those using bottom-bumping
double-hook crappie rigs prefer
heavier line that allows retrieval
of the rig {without breaking}
when snagged. Line in the 12 to
17 pound test is a common choice,
as this is strong enough to bend
Winter crappie will warm the heart of any angler, as the big slabs can be taken long before spring arrives. - Photo by Steve McCadams

sinkers in a methodical vertical
motion. The up and down rocking
of the rig will allow it to fall on
its own and free itself if you don’t
lose your cool and jerk too hard,
jamming the hooks deeper into
the wooded snags.
As to sonar experience, there’s
no substitute for on the job train-
ing. Watch your screen closely,
as you may sometimes encounter
schools of fish. or those precious
arches in and around deep struc-
ture that indicate the presence of
fish relating to the cover.
Baitfish activity and structure
are the two keys as many times
you’ll find a few fish associated
with deep structure that might
not show up on the screen. Often
times, the fish are holding tight
in cover and even the top qual-
ity units can’t differentiate a few
scattered fish that are hidden be-
neath the limbs, or poking their
nose tight in the roots of a stump.
The best approach is trial and
error. Stalk the good looking
spots that show up on your screen.
Knocking on the door is the best
way to know if the fish are there,
as you may well catch a few fish
here and there along the ledges or
drop-offs that really didn’t show
up distinctly on your sonar.
It’s true the crappie like to
school in winter on the deep main
lake ledges, but it’s also true they
scatter at times and lay close to
cover, like rabbits in a briar patch.
Sometimes they’re stubborn to
move and reluctant to make an ef-
fort to emerge from their comfort
zone to strike a bait.
In that scenario anglers have to
put the bait right on the nose of the
fish with a slow
presentation and
almost annoy
them into biting.
Some days, the
fish are aggres-
sive and slam
the bait once it
enters their ref-
uge area. Other
times, they’re
moody and you
have to present
the bait to them
on their terms
and at their
depth.
The bottom
line is that back-
ing off the banks
during the win-
ter months will
put you in touch
with some hefty
crappie that are
ready, willing and
able to test your
tackle long before
spring arrives.
It’s true that
when fishing for
crappie in the
winter, there are
limitations and
anglers have to
pick their days
at times. Mother
Nature deals the
cards and there
are times when
mean cold fronts
with gale force
winds dictate con-
ditions. Yet, bad
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light wire hooks and get the rig
back, without having to break off
and retie too often.
Winter crappie are known for
light strikes and can be finicky.
Anglers really have to concentrate
on their rods tips and watch the
line to detect feather light bites.
Even big slabs are known to bare-
ly take the bait, so sometimes it
turns into a feeling contest.
Jig colors are important and
choices often depend on the clar-
ity of the water. Clear conditions
often merit the choice of dull col-
ors such a clear with sparkle or
motor oil with red glitter. Yet, the
fish always seem to have some ap-
petite for various shades of char-
treuse.
Wise is the angler who keeps an
arsenal of colors in his tackle box.
Fish are the final judge and they
sometimes change the rules in the
middle of the game.
Experimenting is part of the
battle plan too. Tipping jigs with
a live minnow can sometimes en-
tice sluggish crappie to bite. The
size of the jigs and color choices
are also important, but don’t be
too stubborn to supplement the
presentation with live bait.
Another addition to jigs can
be tipping them with scented at-
tractants in the form of liquid
sprays or the popular “marshmal-
low” looking Berkley Power Bait
known as crappie nibbles. These
scented delights come in vari-
ous colors, ranging from white
and red, to chartreuse and green.
Berkley even offers their power
baits with various colors of glitter,
which give off the appearance of
injured baitfish that lose scales in
the water column.
The bait selection and tech-
nique are two important ingredi-
ents in the winter approach, but
so is sonar in selecting your spot.
Interpreting your sonar is vital to
deep water fishing during the win-
ter months.
Finding the deep structure and
observing baitfish activity are two
steps toward success. Fine tuning
the unit and paying close attention
to depth and structure go hand in
hand with feeling cover from your
rod and lure presentation. You
must learn to negotiate the struc-
ture with a gentle touch and prac-
tice patience when snagging.
Experience will help you free
the jig or snagged hooks on a
bottom bumping rig by not jerk-
ing too hard on the initial hang
and slowly working the hook and
Big slab crappie, like this one, don’t disappear after spring spawning
and winter fishing is a good time to find large numbers of fish school-
ing tight to structure. - Photo by Steve McCadams
Deep water crappie await anglers who take advantage of their habits
to hold close to submerged structure on drop-offs in the main lake
area. - Photo by Steve McCadams
continued on next
page

weather doesn’t usually last too
long this time of year.
Once light and variable winds
return, with southwest breezes
raising temperatures and increas-
ing the enthusiasm level of win-
ter fishermen, capitalizing on the
consistency of cold weather crap-
pie habits can be very productive.
Give winter fishing a try and you
too might find a warm spot in your
heart for cold water crappie!
Editor’s Note: Steve McCadams is
a professional guide and outdoor
writer from Paris, Tennessee. He
can be reached at
stevemc@charter.net.
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Tightline techniques, from both jigging and bottom-bumping minnow rigs, pay dividends like this
during the winter months. Both Reelfoot and Kentucky Lake are known for good winter fishing
that is overlooked by most anglers. - Photo by Steve McCadams

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28 SOUTHERN TRADITIONS OUTDOORS | NOVEMBER - DECEMBER 2014

What’s a pawpaw?
That’s the reaction I usually get
when I start talking about paw-
paws. The most frequent guess
I’m given is it’s a name used for a
grandfather. True, it sounds simi-
lar to “Papaw”.
However, I’m talk-
ing about a native
tree to our region
that has an amazing
tropical-like fruit.
Pawpaws (scien-
tific name: Asimina
Triloba) can be
found in the forests
of eastern North
America and are
particularly abun-
dant in the Ohio
river valley, and
along the loess
bluff stretching
down the Missis-
sippi river from Kentucky and into
the state of Mississippi. Our prop-
erty, Fyrne Lake Farms, is situated
right along the edge of this bluff
near Dyersburg, Tennessee. When
we first started exploring our new
land, I noticed a small tree with
large, dark green leaves populat-
ing much of the understory of the
forest. Occasionally, I would find
these trees bearing fruit, during
the late summer along the forest
edge, or within the woods where
sunlight had penetrated through
the tree canopy. I was intrigued
and wanted to identify this unusu-
al species.
My father has a degree in bota-
ny, so I asked him. He immediate-
ly identified it as a pawpaw. My
mother also recognized the fruit
from her childhood in southern
Indiana.
The fruit of the pawpaw tree
is shaped very much like a large
bean, measuring up to 6 inches
in length and up to 3 inches in
diameter. When ripe, the flesh is
yellow, custard like and has eight
or more large brown lima bean
shaped seeds that can be from 1/2
to 1 and 1/2 inches long. It has a
wonderful tropical smell with a
taste somewhere between banana
and mango. In fact, the fruit has
acquired several nick names over
the years including; custard apple,
wild banana, Hoosier banana,
poor man’s banana and banango.
This unusual fruit enjoys the title
of being the largest native fruit
found in the United States.
Native American Indians were
the first to recognize the value of
the pawpaw. Besides eating them
raw, Indians dried the fruit into
cakes and mashed the flesh with
water to make a sauce and used
it as a sweetener for
cornbread. One of the
companions of Her-
nando de Soto, during
his 1540 Spanish ex-
pedition up the Mis-
sissippi River, even
observed Indians tend-
ing and cultivating the
trees. About 200 years
later, settlers moved
across the Appalachian
Mountains and incor-
porated the fruit into
their diet. Pawpaws
even sustained the
Lewis & Clark expedi-
tion when their provi-
sions ran low on their return trip
through the wilderness of western
Missouri.
Wow, this fruit has history! It
looked like I had found another
treasure to connect our farm and
me to my family’s roots in south-
ern Indiana. The hilly, forest-cov-
ered, Tennessee bluff where Fyrne
Lake is found reminded me of the
area surrounding my grandmother
Fyrne’s Indiana farm (she is our
Tennessee farm’s namesake -
Fyrne). In addition to the wooded
hills, I kept discovering wild food
sources that my grandparents had
used like blackberries, persim-
mons, morel mushrooms, sas-
safras, pokeweed and now paw-
paws!
I wondered if I could find ad-
ditional ways to share them with
my family.
The first challenge in sharing
is preservation. Pawpaws do not
have a long shelf life and taste
best when taken ripe off the tree.
My experience has shown that the
fruit obtains an aftertaste, if it is
picked green to ripen, or sets out
much more than 24 hours. We
pulp and freeze any pawpaw, not
consumedthesamedayit’spicked,
in one cup portions to use in reci-
pes. But, what could we make
with this native fruit? I found sev-
eral websites having recipes with
the most ex-
tensive one
being www.
p a w p a w .
k y s u . e d u /
p a w p a w /
recipes.htm.
During my
research I
also discov-
ered that
many of the
distinct trop-
ical compo-
nents of the
pawpaw flavor will dissipate in
high heat. Thus, breads, pies and
ice cream recipes work best. My
mother has been experimenting
with pawpaws in place of bananas
in breads. She discovered that to
obtain a desired “moist” result
an additional portion of pawpaw
pulp is required.
with Kevin Griffith
Notice the tropical look and color of this native fruit. These pawpaws are perfect,
delicious and ready to enjoy! - Photo by Kevin Griffith
Pictured here are pawpaws on the tree, still in their ripening stage. They’ll
lose their firmness when ripe, giving slightly, when squeezed like a peach or
nectarine. - Photo by Kevin Griffith

I have to admit that my preferred way to con-
sume pawpaws is right off the tree! I determine
their ripeness like I would a peach or a nectarine. I
slightly squeeze around the body of the fruit. If it’s
firm, the pawpaw’s not ready. If it gives slightly,
you’re in store for a treat! The taste is very unique
and refreshing. I especially recommend it!
Pawpaws are a special gift found within God’s
creation and can be found right here in west Ten-
nessee! Discovering them on our farm deepened
my family’s connection to Fyrne Lake. Not only
does it remind us of my Mamaw Fyrne’s southern
Indiana roots, but it also touches our Native Amer-
ican and early American settler’s blood. Don’t be
left out! No matter what your background, tasting
a ripe pawpaw off the tree can be a gift you won’t
soon forget. And when you do, you’ll be sharing a
treasure that nourished explorers, was enjoyed by
settlers and connected the Griffith family’s heri-
tage to Fyrne Lake, Tennessee.
My mother has been experimenting with pawpaws for years. Here,
she replaced bananas with pawpaws in this delicious bread!
- Photo by Kevin Griffith
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abbit hunting remains one of
the most popular small game
hunting pursuits across the nation.
Certainly, numbers of rabbits
and the numbers of hunters who
chase them have declined from
historic peak levels, but interest
still remains strong throughout
the southeastern United States.
Luckily, we are blessed with
plenty of good habitat, lots of
variety in locations to hunt and a
fairly long rabbit season providing
plenty of days afield.
Looking at statistics on hunter
effort from various states, it is
interesting to note how that effort
ebbs and flows throughout the
season. There is some variance
from one report to another, but
they generally follow a predictable
pattern. There is a peak of interest
at the beginning of the season then
it tapers off. Hunting effort picks
back up a little later, especially
taking into account traditional
Thanksgiving Day hunts, and
then tapers again. Another bump
in hunter interest usually happens
late before the season concludes.
There are some obvious reasons
for some of these bumps in
participation and then some a little
more subtle. Seasonal openings
and closings, holidays, weekends
and other factors contribute to
the obvious peaks. The openings,
closingsandpeakopportunitiesfor
other hunting seasons also play a
part. However, weather patterns,
habitat changes and rabbit hunter
success also contribute to the ebbs
and flows and these are not as
easily broken out of the stats.
With the season running long
as mentioned, there are many
changes that take place throughout
the course of four months that
alter hunting success. These
include habitat changes that affect
where rabbits are found. It also
includes hunter pressure, rabbit
numbers and weather impacts.
All of these combine to determine
where success will be found and
which tactics to use.
Weather and seasonal changes
This pack of beagles races through the brush, willingly busting through briars and thorn bushes, as they are born and bred to hunt rabbits.
- Photo by Rob Somerville.
Time for Rabbit SeasonByPaulE.Moore
R
play as big a factor as anything. At
the beginning of the season, there
is still plenty of greenery and
all the vegetation is upright and
thick. There is an ample supply of
food sources. This bodes well for
the rabbits, but not necessarily for
the hunters in some cases.
Obviously there are more
rabbits at the start of the season
than at the end. However, with so
many food choices and so much
available cover, the rabbits can be
most anywhere and are sometimes
scattered. Nonetheless, there can
be some fantastic early days of the
season.
As winter wears on, the elements
take a toll. The vegetation dies
off and becomes less substantial.
Rain, snow and wind cause much
of the available cover to fall
over or just generally become
less available. This lack of cover
forces rabbits to move to seek
heavier and thicker shelter, not
only from the elements, but from
predation.
Food sources begin disappearing
too. Gone are the lush grasses and
plants rabbits thrived on during
summer and early fall. Gone also
are most of the waste grains from
farm fields. But, rabbits are very
adaptable eaters and when their
preferred diet is not available,
they will forage on leftover buds,
stems and other remnants from
the summer growing season. Tree
bark and small saplings are also
staples in their diet, especially
in winter. In fact, examining the
bases of small trees and saplings
looking for signs of chewing is a
way to actually “scout” areas for
rabbit hunting potential.
Do not underestimate the effect
huntingpressurehasonrabbitsand
subsequent hunting success either.
Deer hunters and others often
talk about how hunting pressure
moves the animals around, makes
them nocturnal or more alert
and just generally makes them
tougher to hunt. Rabbits may not
be as subject to this as whitetail
deer, but hunting pressure will
definitely play a part.
Rabbits may not have the brain
capacity of say a chimpanzee, but
that does not necessarily lump
them in the category of just a
dumb animal, with no clue as to
what is happening around them.
True, they may not have the
ability to reason as do we humans,
but their instincts have guided
them through the ages and they
have adapted and survived. They
Rabbit hunting offers an excellent opportunity to introduce the youth of today to hunting.
- Photo by Paul Moore.

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will react to
pressure with
i n s t i n c t u a l
m o v e m e n t
and survival
methods. It
is not just
from hunter
pressure. As
the habitat
thins out,
rabbits become
easier pickings
for predators
such as hawks,
owls, bobcats
and coyotes.
This is yet
another reason
rabbits will
seek heavier
cover.
Recognizing
the fact that rabbits will move
around is an obvious key to
success later in the season, but one
must also pay particular attention
to what cover is available and
concentrate hunting efforts on the
best locations. In some locations,
there will be no choice for rabbits,
as to where they seek food and
shelter. In better habitats, rabbits
will seek out the places that offer
the best of shelter and hiding, but
yet have the most diversity of
food choices.
Most hunters do not have the
luxury of time to hunt as much as
they would prefer. Work, family
and other factors limit the amount
of time spent in the field. To make
the best use of that available
opportunity, hunters want to key
in on the spots most likely to
produce a fun and successful day.
Finding those late season spots
that hold good numbers of rabbits
can be a challenge anywhere, but
is especially daunting on public
ground, where the competition for
and pressure on the best locations
is great. The most successful
hunters are willing to literally
go the extra mile to locate those
hotspots others overlook or
simply are not willing to put forth
the effort to reach.
Spots closest to road access are
obviously hit hard by hunters.
Many people are not willing
or are not able to walk to reach
hunting areas far from parking
locations. The hunters who are
able and willing to trek back
deeper are often rewarded with
some excellent hunting. Many
wildlife management areas and
other public hunting lands have
maps available and they can be
studied to find out of the way
places others might miss. There
are also other great sources of
research and mapping such as
Google Earth, MyTopo and more.
Although it is a lot more trouble
on the hunter’s part, leashing
up the dogs and walking them
farther away from the parking
areas before turning them loose
can be very rewarding. It really
is no different than deer hunting
on public lands. There have been
studies showing how far the
average deer hunter travels from
a parking area before putting up
a tree stand. Rabbit hunters are
no different. True, rabbit hunters
may walk all day once they begin
hunting, but they most usually
park where they can dump their
dogs right out and start hunting.
This brings us to the final

equation in late-season hunting.
Dogs play a very important part in
rabbit hunting these days. This is
especially true on public ground
and most anywhere during the
late season. In the past, rabbit
numbers were at peak levels, there
was great habitat everywhere and
coyotes were hardly ever seen in
this area. Good numbers of rabbits
could be brought to bag simply
by walking through cover and
“kicking them up.”
Those days are mostly gone.
Sure, there are areas and times
when walking and kicking the
brush will produce, but nowhere
as consistently as with a few good
dogs.
The optimal word there is “good”
dogs. In the late season, most
rabbit hunting areas have been
heavily pressured. Rabbits will be
in the thickest cover available and
will often sit very tight and not
jump unless they absolutely are
forced to do so. Dogs that skirt the
edges of cover
will pass up
lots of rabbits.
Also, hunters
should be
prepared for
longer runs
and turns
t h r o u g h
the most
difficult and
impenetrable
cover to be
found.
Asconditions
c h a n g e
throughout
the season,
savvy hunters
r e c o g n i z e
these changes
and adapt
their hunting
methods to
match. The season is long and
provides lots of opportunity.
Success is not always measured
in the number of game bagged
though, but in experiences,
learning and camaraderie.
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- Photo by Paul Moore.
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never know what we will say to each other. Now,
they start on me and that is a whole book by itself
on what they harass me about. Finally, we have
Mason. We harass him about his younger sister be-
ing tougher and cooler. He took it like a trooper and
quickly learned one of the lessons of coon hunting
…. the good natured, give and take in kidding with
one another.
I was thinking during this enjoyable time that I
had been with four generations of the Blalocks coon
hunting, in some form or fashion. Coon hunting re-
ally is a family tradition. Needless to say, we were
having a blast, when all of a sudden lightning was
getting closer and the wind was picking up. Decid-
ing to get out while the getting was good, we called
in the dogs, loaded them up and left.
It was a real thrill to be able to take Mason on
his first coon hunt and enjoy the camaraderie with
a coon hunting family. That night we did not fill our
game bag, but there will be other times. It is ironic
that Rusty was on my first coon hunt 32 years ago
and now I was on Mason’s. Maybe if I live long
enough I will be on Mason’s son’s first hunt or Ma-
son’s will be on my future children’s first hunt. The
best memory of the trip was when Mason looked up
smiling at his dad and asked Rusty, “When can we go
again?” That made this old coon hunter feel good.Family Tradition
ello to all you great readers of STO Magazine. I
hope luck and good fortune have shined on you and
yours. By the time you read this article, most hunt-
ing seasons will be open, or about to open. I hope
your game bag will be full all year long. “Coon”
season opened in the middle of September and it is
my time of year, with the weather cooling (fat boys
do not like to sweat), leaves turning color, Christmas
around the corner and the realization that the Good
Lord gave me another year to enjoy the great out-
doors.
As you know by now, I am always trying to get
kids involved, safely and ethically, in
hunting. Well this one hunting trip even
surprised me. My “brother” Rusty
Blalock was eating lunch with me at
my café, and bought up the subject of
his grandson wanting to go hunting, I
said, “Sure Rusty let’s do it.“ You see,
his grandson - Mason is six years old,
but I think if you start them young they
will keep going. We decided the when
and the where and were set. I got ev-
erything ready and met Rusty, wife
Angela, and his grandson Mason at his
house. Storms were looming, but we
still decided to go. Let me take you on
this memorable hunting adventure.
With a thunderstorm forecasted and
it being a muggy night, we released
the three hounds (Money, Sassy and
Whiskey River). Quickly, they strike
and move the track through the woods
and tree, but no luck tonight on this
big, leafy, oak tree. We release the dogs
and a quick strike happens again. This
time we have time to harass each other
and the laughter starts. First we start
on Angela, who has been with us once
before, and her pink pony boots. Listen
dear readers, if your wife or girlfriend
{hopefully for you not both at the same
time} goes coonin make sure she isn’t
wearing “pink pony rubber knee boots”
because your hunting partner/brother/
friend will not let her or you live it
down. Then, we start picking on Rusty
and after 30 years of hunting together you
By Shawn Todd
H
Mason and his granddad, Rusty, are pictured here enjoying a traditional night of coon
hunting. - Photo by Shawn Todd
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Collector’s Corner
ho would have thought that everyday hunting
items like hunting licenses, patches and pins, or even
duck or goose leg bands would ever be collectible,
much less worth anything?
Well, my name is Rob Hurt and I am an avid col-
lector of vintage hunting related items. In this article
of “The Collectors Corner” I am pleased to share
with you a few of the items I personally enjoy “hunt-
ing” for.
HUNTING & FISHING LICENSES
Every hunter is legally resposible to have a hunt-
ing license. Collecting vintage hunting licenses is an
easy and fun way to keep track of the trends of that
era in which each license was issued. You can collect
licenses by the state it was issued in, by the year it
was issued, or even by the style of the license. If you
are collecting by state you will find that every state
in the United States has its own unique hunting/fish-
ing license. Collecting all 50 states can not only be
fun, but extremely challenging. If you pick a certain
decade to collect, such as the 1920’s or 1930’s you
will find that these licenses were fabricated of metal,
or made in the form of a pin.
This brings us to the next category of the style of
the hunting/fishing licenses. Hunting licenses come
in different variations such as metal pins, metal
square plates, stamps, plastic licenses, paper licenses
and even early licenses made of wood pulp or cloth.
Most states have a residential hunting/fishing license,
a residential trapping license, and a non-residential
hunting/fishing license. The non-residential hunting/
fishing licenses are usually the most valuable. The
reason for this is that fewer non-residential licenses
are usually issued than residential license each year.
by Rob Hurt of Feathered Finds
The value of each license is determined by the con-
dition, age and rarity of the license. Some hunting
licenses are worth as much as $1500.00 each! If you
have interest in collecting vintage hunting/ fishing
licenses or stamps, a great book to read is Sporting
Collectibles by R. Stephen Irwin MD.
HUNTING PINS & PATCHES
Other fun items to collect are hunting or firearm
pins and patches. Hunting patches and pins are a
great way to stay in touch with the sport you love.
Collecting pins and patches has distinct advantages
I like. They are easy to find. They do not take up a
large amount of storage or display space, like decoys
or calls do. They also can be extremely valuable, if
you find the right ones. Most pin and patches will
fall in the $5.00 to $20.00 value range, but with a
little luck, you may run into that rare game warden
badge, or a coveted vintage firearm pin or patch that
is worth hundreds or even thousands of dollars. Do
your research and start putting pins and patches into
your 401K retirement plan.
DUCK & GOOSE LEG BANDS
The last collectible I would like to inform you
about, in this article of The Collector’s Corner, is
what I like to call jewelry. Jewelry, or the {coveted
by all waterfowl hunters} duck or goose leg band,
can be highly collectible and valuable. There are
many different kinds of leg bands out there. You
have federal, state, and even private club leg bands.
All of these bands are placed on one of the duck or
goose’s leg for the sole purpose of collecting infor-
mation on the flight pattern of that banded duck or
goose. Each leg band will have a number or address
for the person that harvests the bird and obtains the
leg band, for them to call in the information of where
and when it was shot.
One of the most desired leg bands is the Jack Miner
band. Jack Miner was one of North America’s lead-
ing conservationists. He started the Jack Miner bird
sanctuary in Kingsville, Ontario in 1904. Jack was
one of the earliest and most successful developers
of waterfowl refuge habitat, and is considered the
father of bird banding in North America. Most of
his bands were stamped with verses of scripture. He
started banding birds in December of 1909 and con-
tinued up until the early 1920’s. All of these sought
after bands were hand stamped by Jack Miner him-
self. The earlier, hand-stamped bands are most de-
sired by collectors and some are worth as much as
$600.00 each. Even the most common Jack Minor
band is worth $75.00.
Collecting hunting licenses, leg bands, or those
allusive hunting patches or pins is a great way to
W

BUSINESS PROFILE
Wacky Quack Duck Calls was established in 2013, after many hunting friends pulled me aside to complain about
the high cost of duck calls in general. I am the owner of a plastics company and an avid outdoorsman, so the fit was
natural. The original idea was to provide label calls for other companies, but for me to be motivated I had to have my
own line of calls. A few days later Wacky Quack Duck Calls was born, then our Logo “Drives Ducks Crazy!”
Once the Cad Drawings were complete, it was off to the tool shop for the mold to be built. I never considered any
other resin other than Polycarbonate, because I wanted the call to be super tough and take the kind of punishment
only a duck hunter can dish out including extreme cold, water, ice and just plain old getting kicked around. I could
use any resin I wanted to: ABS, Acrylic or Nylon, but Polycarbonate was the only one that is nearly bullet proof.
It took eight weeks to build the mold. During that time we were building the Reed Holder Mold in house. Again, the
reed holder had to work in extreme conditions, so the specs were important. We wanted it to be soft enough to hold
the reed, yet still have a high tensile strength. After several tests, we settled on a Thermoplastic Elastomer. Now for
the reed ... same song, third verse. Luck would have it that we already did precision cutting of membrane materials in
our Syringe Filter Operation, so reed cutting was a non-issue. With a precise die, every reed would be the exact same
dimension and we could also offer different reed thickness {.010, .014 or any other available thickness}.
Last, but not least, we designed two different reed lengths.
By this point, it had become apparent to me that no two duck callers could settle on exactly what perfectly tuned
meant. I can’t tell you how many of them sat in my office and gave their advice on tuning, so it was apparent we should
just offer reasonably priced reeds to tune your own call. The great thing about having complete control over a product
line is you can make changes quickly and without approval from anyone. We make lots of colors, even a glow-in-the-
dark model, which I believe is a first. At present, we can produce 4000 calls per week and if we wanted to, we could
produce 10,000 per week.
Of course we do not work on weekends, God reserved weekends for hunting and fishing.
Editor’s Note: For more info on WACKY QUACK DUCK CALLS go to www.omnitechmanufacturing.com or call them at
731-286-4795.
- Rob Somerville
WACKY QUACK DUCK CALLS
How it all got started by owner & president: Jimmy Deese
Jeff, can you give our readers a brief overview of the history and future goals of First Citizens?
First Citizens is a $1.5 billion, two bank holding company serving 10 counties across the state of Tennessee. First Citizens
National Bank is proud to be celebrating its 125th birthday this year. From the merging of First National Bank and Citizens
Bank, established in 1889, First Citizens National Bank evolved and has been a strong community bank, surviving even the Great
Depression in the 1930’s. When the “skyscraper” was built and opened its doors in 1924, it had grand aspirations. Through the
years, those aspirations have exceeded expectations. First Citizens now has 24 locations across the state of Tennessee, with the
recent opening of the Jackson branch and the acquisition of Southern Heritage Bank in Cleveland, TN. FCNB is an award win-
ning bank recognized #5 “Best Bank to Work For” in the USA. We are growing but our goal is to keep that small town, communi-
ty bank feeling and personality in all our locations. First Citizens is deeply rooted in all counties we serve.
Please give me your views as a father and the outdoor lifestyle you share with your son.
John Eldredge wrote a book called “Wild at Heart” and he stated men have a desire to explore, hunt and connect to God’s cre-
ation. Hunting, fishing and the great outdoors have always been part of my life. My father started me with rabbit and dove hunt-
ing. My love for the outdoors grew as I became a teenager duck hunting with my long time friends, Tim McCraw, Tom Mathis, Joe
King and others. I am fortunate to have a young son, Franklin, who loves to fish and hunt. The great outdoors has always been a
way to reclaim your heart and connect to God by getting away from daily noises and distractions.
Thanks Jeff.
Editor’s Note: I highly recommend First Citizens Bank to our readers. We have all of our magazine business there and I have my
personal accounts there as well. In all of my 57 years, they are the most professional - yet friendly bank I have ever dealt with. They
truly understand the meaning of Southern Hospitality!
- Rob Somerville
FIRST CITIZENS
NATIONAL BANK
An interview with
President & CEO
Mr. Jeff Agee
extend your hunting season.
Whether I am hunting for them
at yard sales or buying them
from a reliable seller, the feel-
ing I get when I find one of
these items is the same as when
I am pulling the trigger of my
Browning A5 on a big mallard
green head, fanning into my
decoy spread. There is some
great information out there on
collecting all of the items de-
scribed in this article. If anyone
has question or comments, or
wants to buy, sell or have me
appraise their items please feel
free to contact me {Rob Hurt}
through my web-site at www.
featheredfinds.com.
Next issue, we will discuss
collecting other hunting memo-
rabilia. Until then, good luck
this waterfowl season … and
I’ll see you at the duck blind.
Dyer County Animal Hospital
Dr. James A. Crisp
Dr. William T. Dickerson
Dr. John Harris
410 Hwy 51 By-Pass West
Dyersburg, TN - 38024
741-285-2043
www.dyercountyanimalhospital.com

QUALITY SERVICE AT REASONABLE RATES!
DIESEL & NON-ETHANOL
TIRES
LP GAS
BRAKE SERVICE
STARTERS
ALTERNATORS
&
ALL TYPES OF MECHANICAL REPAIRS!
520 LAKE RD - DYERSBURG, TN
731-286-2999
OWNER: BART GILLON
213 W. Court St. - Dyersburg,TN. - 38024
731-285-5201 - www.ygafco.com
LET US FURNISH YOUR ...
HUNTING LODGE OR CABIN!

Balin Horton {14-years old} of Henry County (left)
bagged this trophy 10-point buck that tipped the scales
at 217.8 pounds, on the opening morning of the Young
Sportsmen Hunt. His 11-year old sister, Maura, bagged
her first deer on the same hunt!
Photo submitted by Henry County Sheriff’s Dept.
Colton Pollock {14 years old} from Lexington,
Tennessee arrowed this nice buck during the opening
week of archery season in Huron, Tennessee.
Photo submitted by John Latham.
Cayson Adams - Drew Adams’ 46 lb. son, is
shown lying next to two catfish from their pond.
They are huge!!
Photo submitted by Outerlimit Powersports.
Our good buddy, John Latham, is shown here
with some of his relatives and fellow hunters
who shot 58 dove on Oct. 20th of this year.
They said they had quite a delicious feast later
on. - Photo submitted by John Latham.
Jack Weaver, one of Huntingdon, Tennessee’s finest
sportsmen, caught this 15 ounce bluegill in July of
2014. - Photo courtesy of Lankford Taxidermy.
Robert Parker caught this fifty pound amberjack off
Gulf Shores, this past fall.
Photo submitted by Robert Parker.
Drew Smith shot this pintail in
the Weakley County bottoms in
Gleason, Tennessee.
Photo courtesy of Lankford
Taxidermy.
Autry Sartin and Hunter Taylor show off a few of
the stingrays they shot while bowfishing in the bay
at Destin, Florida on Oct 9th. They arrowed over 20
stingrays on the trip. - Photo by Steve Sartin.

824 Reelfoot Dr. - Dyersburg, TN 38024
731-287-0248 sleepinn.com
Dyersburg’s
Newest Hotel!
ASK ABOUT
OUR SPECIAL
HUNTERS
RATES!
NEWBERN SALES
ANTIQUES & COLLECTIBLES
LIVE PUBLIC AUCTIONS
Every Friday Night at 6 pm!
1st & 3rd Friday - NEW ITEMS
2nd & 4th Friday - ANTIQUES & COLLECTIBLES!
RANDY HULME - OWNER/OPERATOR
301 JEFFERSON ST. - NEWBERN, TN - 39059
731-589-9057
rehulme_1963@yahoo.com
BOYFRIEND 4 HIRE
HANDYMAN WORK
ANYWHERE IN WEST TENNESSEE
PAINTING-CARPENTRY-PLUMBING
LANDSCAPING, FENCING, MOWING, ETC.
KARAOKE KARAVAN
DEEJAY FOR HIRE AT
WEDDINGS, PARTYS, ETC.
OVER 200,000 SONGS!
CALL JOHN LATHAM: 731-602-1331
No sale is too large or too small to get our attention.
Whether you are buying or selling, call us for a free consultation.
315 Troy Avenue - Dyersburg, TN - 38024
Office: 731-286-0090
www.fisherrealtyandauction.com
The Sound That Sells!
David Fisher - Principal Broker/Auctioneer
Cell: 731-445-2735
auctioneer@cableone.net
“Fisher Realty and Auction is a full service company that specializes in Residential, Commercial and Farm
Land sales. We do everything necessary to ensure successful sales.” - David Fisher.
Meet Our Team:
Laura Richmond, Operations Mgr.
Eric Maupin, Auctioneer
Bill Stamps, Auctioneer
Bubba Morris, Auctioneer
Shane King, Affiliate Broker
Rebecca Revell, Affiliate Broker
Debra Roberson, Broker

Southern Traditions Outdoors - November - December 2014

Southern Traditions Outdoors - November - December 2014

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