_pitch In And Pitch Out Recipes

_SOMETHING SOFT FOR DINNER

Steps:

• If you like to eat, taking off on a back country trip with someone you don't know well who says he will do the cooking, presents the same chance for success as going on a blind date arranged by your sister. But...as an old boss of mine used to say, "Life is nothing but a series of missed opportunities!" You have to take the chance, but it's unwise to let your expectations get too high. Anyway...In late August, 1983, my boss passed some information on to me about two fellas who had drawn permits to hunt bighorn sheep along Idaho's Middle Fork of Salmon River and were allowing two other guys to go hunting in their place. Such a transfer is, of course, contrary to Idaho Code. Al told me to put together an operation which if successful might educate these guys and generate a little income for the state judicial system at the same time. I enlisted Russ Kozacek and Paul Valcarce to help with the operation. The plan went something like this. Paul and I would fly a float boat into Indian Creek and float down to the mouth of Loon Creek and meet Russ with his pack string. Russ and Paul would head up toward Norton Ridge where our informant said these guys planned to hunt. I would set up surveillance on a trail junction should they miss the guys up on the mountain. Russ and I split picking up the camp groceries and cooking duties. I would take care of everything along the river, and Russ would provide for Paul and him while on horseback. No problem!?!?!Russ readily admits that he and I come from different camp cooking schools. Russ graduated with honors from the school that teaches folks to fix the simplest, quickest recipes that result in the fewest dirty dishes. The ability to boil water is high on the list of criteria required to graduate from this particular school that shall remain un-named here! The grub in his camp isn't fancy but there is always enough. That is, until this trip.At the appointed time we met at the US Forest Service tent frame located about a half mile below the confluence of the Big Loon Creek with Middle Fork.Let me digress here and tell you a little more about where we met. At this time the USFS stationed a person at the tent frame during the summer float season. The fireguard had pulled out just a week before we arrived. Among other duties, this person kept the one-hole outhouses located at float camps supplied with toilet paper. More than once I'd stopped to re-supply when my own stocks of this vital commodity ran low.While Paul and I sorted his stuff, Russ started putting things in two different piles. One pile they would take with them on the trail, and another pile to leave with me at our base camp. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Russ pick up some of the "Woodsy Owl" drawstring garbage bags to stow stuff in out of the tent frame. Coincidentally, the fireguard kept his extra TP in the same bags hung on a nail next to the door. With all three of us working, it didn't take long to get the pack stock loaded. After agreeing on radio codes and check-in times, Russ and Paul pulled out.I squared my gear around after they left, then pulled a paperback book out of my duffel and began the surveillance. I fixed a chicken and pasta dish in my 10" aluminum DO and sat on the porch maintaining surveillance as long as I had reading light. Then it came time to light a lantern and move inside. I reached into the "Woodsy Owl" bag for a roll of TP prior to taking a stroll up the hill to the privy. Only when we compared notes several days later did we determine that we'd made simultaneous discoveries! I reached in expecting to grab a soft round roll, not a foil wrapped package containing freeze-dried beef stroganoff! Meanwhile, up on Norton Ridge, Russ ended up being the one to grasp what I was looking for! Later, there was considerable confusion over WHO was responsible for the switch! In my case I substituted a copy of the previous year's fishing regulations for what I needed, while Russ and Paul split a can of kipper snacks and a couple of granola bars found at the bottom of a saddle bag.If there is a moral to this story it's this. Even if you're not the cook, at least check to make sure the cook packs the grub!Spiced with More Tall Tales - Meats

_PITCH IN AND PITCH OUT

Steps:

• Two things act as magnets on little boys, mud puddles and pitch. I'm not talking about the card game "Pitch," but sap from coniferous trees. When the folks took us kids camping, despite repeated warnings and dire threats by Mother, I usually managed to get the sticky stuff on my hands, clothes, and in my hair within thirty minutes of getting to camp. I did it to my folks and my son did it to me. As an old cowboy buddy of mine told me when my boy was born, "You don't pay for your raising till you raise one of your own!" That particular saying has proven true on many other occasions! Anyway...Like many situations in life there is 'the easy way' and 'the hard way' to remedy the situation. Normally the first line of defense in most situations requiring cleanup is soap and water. Besides being sticky in the first degree, pitch immediately attracts dirt. Pitch on a kid's hands will just smear and spread with soap and water. Anything the kid touches ends up sticky, which if he handles enough stuff will wear the pitch off his hands! That is an option, but one most mothers would rather not exercise. Unless you take a set of full body restraints to camp, don't even think you can successfully comb a wad of pitch out of your kid's hair!For a quick fix, dig around in your camp box for your charcoal starter fluid. Any other petroleum distillate, such as white gas, kerosene, etc. will dissolve pitch, but charcoal lighter seems to be the least harsh. Just squirt a little bit in your hands and rub the spot, then wash with soap and water. To clean clothes, first change into something clean and soak the spot with the lighter fluid and work it into the fabric. Repeat a couple of times then hang on a limb to dry. Getting the stuff out of one's hair is a little more difficult. Soak a washrag and gently massage the pitch to dissolve and repeat if needed. Soak another washrag with warm water and rinse. Of course, I shouldn't have to say this, but if it's after dark, use a flashlight or other source of light, not firelight or gas lantern!Spiced with More Tall Tales - Breads

_HANK, JACK AND ME

Steps:

• All three of us moved to Challis, Idaho, within a year or so of each other. Hank Ketchie worked for the US Forest Service as a forester and arrived in 1977. I moved to Challis as a rookie game warden in November, 1978. Jack, when he did work, worked for me, and moved there in February, 1979. Jack and I had been acquainted for only a short time and didn't know each other very well before we both moved to Challis. I met Hank within the first week or so and it didn't take us long to become friends. During our first conversation we realized we'd attended Utah State University at the same time. Though we hadn't met there, we did have friends in common from college days. Being stationed in a small central Idaho cow town as a resource manager or a game warden presents its own unique social obstacles. We weren't social outcasts but socially we were cast together!That first fall of '78 went by in a blur. Trying to learn a new patrol area kept me going both night and day. Right after the first of the year the boss called me up and said to get my affairs in order 'cause I'd be spending five weeks at the police academy. Trust me, my social affairs were nonexistent which meant it didn't take me long to get ready and be gone. When I finished up in mid-February, I drove over to Wayan where I'd previously been stationed, before heading home to Challis. Jack had been staying with a friend of mine, Steve Somsen, since I'd left for Challis in November. He wasn't real glad to see me, but with a little persuasion loaded up and headed north with me. The first time I ever saw a horse smile was the next day when I unloaded Jack at my rented pasture in Challis. In Wayan the snow had been up almost to his belly while in Challis bare ground told Jack he'd indeed made a good move!Besides being a forester, Hank was a horseman. Not a cowboy, but a horseman! He did a little horse trading, horse training, and shod horses to support his hunting and fishing habits. A couple of days after I got back with Jack, Hank came by to see him. Hank didn't look too long before he said, "Besides being ugly, what other bad habits does he have?" I told him of the ones I knew but also said there were probably others yet unknown, which would surface soon enough!On several occasions I loaned Jack to Hank for various little chores like packing out an elk or two. In addition we made several rides together both for work and pleasure. It didn't take long to compile a pretty long list of Jack's faults. I don't know who had the most to learn, Jack or me! Any question I asked resulted in a common sense answer that came from experience and not from a book or magazine. Besides sharing his knowledge, Hank built a pair of pack boxes for me, doctored my stock when I was out of town, and showed me the lighter side of shoeing horses and mules. Like the time a two-year old filly getting shod for the first time got touchy and began wrestling Hank for control of a front foot. She won the match but when she set it down she ended up with her legs crossed. Hank didn't cuss or get upset, but simply said, "I like a lady who crosses her legs when she gets nervous!"On the professional level Hank and I worked timber sales together. Hank looked at things from the silvicultural standpoint and I from a wildlife management perspective. On our days off we hunted, fished, and explored the Pahsimeroi Valley, Hank riding Dan or Spot and me on Jack. Whether sitting in a duck blind or the cab of a truck coming back from a horse trip we always found something to talk about. I was the first person who knew that Hank and his wife, Deb, were expecting. Likewise Hank called me first when he killed a bull elk with his bow, or when his dog, Rev, learned a new trick. But, Hank kept a secret from me along with others for nearly three years. He had cancer!Towards the end, Rich Rodgers, Nick Zufelt, and I traveled to Salt Lake City, Utah, to visit Hank. Hank could still get around a little and after the others said their goodbyes and left, he walked me to the elevator. As the door closed Hank said, "Jack has improved enough I'd put him in my string!" Hank said this with dry eyes, but mine were still running when I hit the ground floor. These many years later, two emotions come to mind when I think of Hank! For the short time we spent together I'll always be grateful, but I'll always be sad because of how short the time ultimately ended up being!Spiced with More Tall Tales - Dedications

_PITCH IN AND PITCH OUT

Steps:

• Two things act as magnets on little boys, mud puddles and pitch. I'm not talking about the card game "Pitch," but sap from coniferous trees. When the folks took us kids camping, despite repeated warnings and dire threats by Mother, I usually managed to get the sticky stuff on my hands, clothes, and in my hair within thirty minutes of getting to camp. I did it to my folks and my son did it to me. As an old cowboy buddy of mine told me when my boy was born, "You don't pay for your raising till you raise one of your own!" That particular saying has proven true on many other occasions! Anyway...Like many situations in life there is 'the easy way' and 'the hard way' to remedy the situation. Normally the first line of defense in most situations requiring cleanup is soap and water. Besides being sticky in the first degree, pitch immediately attracts dirt. Pitch on a kid's hands will just smear and spread with soap and water. Anything the kid touches ends up sticky, which if he handles enough stuff will wear the pitch off his hands! That is an option, but one most mothers would rather not exercise. Unless you take a set of full body restraints to camp, don't even think you can successfully comb a wad of pitch out of your kid's hair!For a quick fix, dig around in your camp box for your charcoal starter fluid. Any other petroleum distillate, such as white gas, kerosene, etc. will dissolve pitch, but charcoal lighter seems to be the least harsh. Just squirt a little bit in your hands and rub the spot, then wash with soap and water. To clean clothes, first change into something clean and soak the spot with the lighter fluid and work it into the fabric. Repeat a couple of times then hang on a limb to dry. Getting the stuff out of one's hair is a little more difficult. Soak a washrag and gently massage the pitch to dissolve and repeat if needed. Soak another washrag with warm water and rinse. Of course, I shouldn't have to say this, but if it's after dark, use a flashlight or other source of light, not firelight or gas lantern!Spiced with More Tall Tales - Breads