Friday, January 7, 2011

Death of A Friend, Birth of A Legend

Gunisson (April 2001 - January 2011)



As we travel down lifes' path we encounter dark tunnels and it becomes hard to see the trail.  Friends are like candles that help illuminate the way.  My dog Gunnison was one of those candles in my life.  As a boy, like most boys, I dreamt of having that loyal companion, that dog that would follow me anywhere with a canine grin.  Ofcourse, books like "Where the Red Fern Grows" and movies like "Old Yeller" just added a little fuel to the fire.  We have had a couple family dogs and each one of them burned a special place in each one of our hearts.  "Buttercup" was our first dog, a minature schnauser who fit right in with the family.  She was a cute little pistol that could bring a smile to anyones face.  Later on, "Damsel" became part of our family.  Damsel was an absolute canine angel.  She was named after a Damsel Fly, which is a pattern we use fly fishing.  The name fit too. That dog racked up some serious fly fishing hours!  I think she fished with my dad and brother more than I did!  Damsel loved going on trips with the family.  We never needed a leash with her.  We would fish for hours and she would explore but always keep us in hearing distance.  Gunnison got alot of his adventurous loyalty from his mother.  I recall the day he was born.  I had just gotten home from GCC where I was taking classes at the time.  Mom met me at the door and said Damsel was ready to deliver and had been waiting for me to get home.  As soon as I walked over to her, she settled in to her welping box.  The first puppy got stuck and had to be hand delivered.  That stuck puppy was Gunnison. (I named him Gunnison after the Gunnison River, Colorado where the family would spend a couple weeks each summer.)  He came out backwards and completely snow white.  I hadn't really planned on keeping any of the pups, but I was melted by that snowy little fur ball.  As a puppy he was the biggest goof.  He loved to tear up paper towels and then just give me his signature goofy grin.  Gunny went with me everywhere I could take him.  Like his mother, he was truely an outdoorsmans' dog.  One of my favorite early memories of Gunny is fishing Lime Creek in Colorado.  Gunny was having a blast getting in my way as I was trying to cast or trying to figure out where the heck that chipmunk went.  There were alot of deadfalls and rocks we had to navigate going down stream.  Fishing was good and I had stopped paying attention to Gunny.  After releasing a fish, I turn and look for Gunny. No sign so I call his name a couple times knowing he'll be by shortly.  I return to fishing a productive white water run.  As I was casting I notice a white fuzz ball struggling in the white water and rapidly heading downstream.  I dropped my rod and ran downstream and into the frigid water.  I waded up to my chest and my waders filled with water as I grab the neck scruff of a rafting canine.  Apparently Gunnison decided that climbing logs was too much effort and thought the creek would be more efficient. Goof.  Gunny also loved bird hunting with me.  I remember shooting a dove quite a ways out in some really tall grass.  Gunny took off for the retrieve at mach speed.  Just before he got to where the bird went down I saw all the grass and bushes lay down.  Gunnison had run right into a wire fence at full speed!  He picked himself up and gave me what I thought was an embarassed look and continued after the bird.  Goof.  I've been through some tough times and that is where Gunny would truely shine.  He was always by my side.  He always pried a smile from me.  He will always be my boy.  I'm finding it hard to continue writing.  Sometimes there just aren't enough words.  I am so thankful to have had Gunny in my life.  I believe even a dog can mold and shape a persons character.  Gunny helped me see the lighter side of things.  Perhaps the candle has burned out but Gunnison still continues to illuminate my life.  I miss you so much Gunny Boy.  You will always be a legend like in the books or movies to me.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

A Carnivorous Start for 2011



Preparing Our Lethal Injection


 



"You're gonna feel a pinch..."



This New Year's eve I was reflecting on this past year and what 2011 might bring.  I thought about goals I achieved, goals I didn't, goals to set for 2011, memories of friends and family, and the places I've been this year.  I planned on making one more great memory of 2010.  My best friend Taylor & I decided to have our first pig roast (properly refered to as a Pig Pikin').  Now I was born in North Carolina and some of my earliest memories are of a pig pikin' at our family reunion.  I remember the smells and the smiles on the faces of relatives as they caught up with each other or laughed remembering past hijinx. And who could forget all that great food!  I wanted to bring back those unforgetable Carolina smells and make new memories with my friends and family to bring in the new year.  Taylor was excited as was I.  We researched technique and recipes for days.  Roasting a 60 lb pig is no small undertaking.  I was surprised at the pressure I felt to make this a success, not only for everyone who would attend, but for Taylor.  Taylor provided his backyard for the event and we both worked very hard getting prepared.  We secured a 52.1 lb pig and a motorized spit.  I don't mind  a little hard work, but I couldn't imagine turning that spit for 6 hrs with a 50 lb pig on it.  Much respect to the carnivores of old! The night before new year's eve we injected the pig with Taylor's secret marinade.  (It's a secret recipe because we can't remember what we put in it!)  After injecting the pig with 1/3 gallon of marinade we put it on ice for the night.  I could hardly sleep, excited thinking about the task ahead of us.  Taylor and I woke up very early and made a fire to keep coals going through out the day and did some final chores.  We put the pig on the spit and over the tray of coal at 10:30 AM.  I'm not the most patient guy, so I've never really been a good cook.  I can't wait!  It turns out Taylor and I are a perfect Pig Pikin' duo.  I would get anxious and want to up the heat and get that thing cookin' and Tay would pull the riegns reminding me that we needed to start  with low heat and gradually kick it up.  On the otherside, I'm pretty well versed in butchery and breakin' down critters to their basic components.  We are a dangerous pair :)   About 3 hours into roasting I added apple and hickory wood chips ( a hand full every 1/2 hour) that had soaked in water for an hour to give the pig that awsome smokey taste.  Taylor's wife Jenny was just as excited as us and helped all day getting the house ready and kept us on task.  Jenny's family also helped in making this a monumental occasion by providing side dishes, beverages, and desserts. And boy did they provide! I've never seen so much food!  Just about 2 hours before it was time to pull the pig from the glowing coals,  those unmistakable, mouth-watering smells began to permiate the house and soon the whole block.  That smell transported me back to my youth and seemed to create an atmoshpere of celebration and a general warm, content feeling as Taylor and I joked around and recalled stories of the past year.  Our guests started arriving around 6 PM just as we pulled the pig from the flames.  I was nervous just before I made my first cut in to the meat.  Was it done?  Will it taste as good as I remembered?  These questions were answered as I cut into that juicy white meat. It was perfect!  Our guests left with full bellies, and hopefully a little taste of Carolina tradition.  Most of our friends had gone by the time the new year made its arrival.  We spent the rest of the night and into the early morning hours joking around  by the fire until our cheeks hurt.  As I sat staring into the embers that twinkled like the stars above, I was happy as my best friends and I put 2010 to rest.
The Butcher

Taylor & Jenny