Grouse Hollow Journal for October 11, 2012

Grouse Hollow Journal for October 11, 2012 by Greg Koelker

Ellen and I and Scout just got back in from hanging a new tree stand up on our ridge in what we call the "Corner Woods."  I am at the iMac tapping this out before I forget what went on, mostly, and so I can take some time to read the paper and cool off after the Packer debacle in Indianapolis.  Anyway, we drove the pickup loaded with two new tree stands, El's geared limb lopper, and the long handled tree trimmer, as well as a drill and wrench to make sure the bolts on the new stands were set tight.  It was gray and windy, but the color in the woods is still very satisfying and attractive.  After a short walk to decide where to put the first stand, I drove the Ranger down in the woods nearby and we drug the ladder parts and seat over to a wind twisted hickory that was sturdy and, I think, positioned well for setting up shooting lanes.  I am sure glad El offered to come along as I know I wouldn't have gotten the stand up, nearly as quickly at least, by myself.  The ratchet strap hanger tangled up before it was tight enough and I found myself clinging to a tree fifteen feet up while pulling at the nylon knot with my teeth for twenty minutes.  It is up and opens for business now, maybe later this week.

Before the tree stand expedition, I hauled a load of metal, old windows, an EZ boy chair/photo prop that had been up at the fire pit for over a month and Vince's old electric stove to large item at the dump day.  Okay, it's not really a dump anymore, like all garbage collection places, but most everyone calls it that.  Terry Levendoski eyed up our load and pulled the town's end loader up next to the trailer and we loaded 'er up, twice.  Vinny and I also got rid of our garbage.  On the way home, I watched two guys in a fishing boat down on the Mississippi pulling up panfish.  They looked like two very cold guys as the wind was roaring in from the west at the time. 

El and I drove down to rural Burton on Saturday evening to be ready for the Squirrel Picnic on Sunday.  (Plus any time I can sponge a great supper off of my brother-in-law Chuck, I will.)  We listened to the Badgers finally dig in and pound Illinois and then to a Garrison Keillor "A Prairie Home Companion" to pass the time on the trip.  We saw gasoline at $3.75 a gallon in Patch Grove - explain please?!? when it is $3.86 in Stoddard.  Regardless, we made it in time for cocktails and a grilled pork loin dinner and lots of time to play with Barb and Chuck's grandkids and visit with niece, Marissa, from Phoenix, as well as watch Ohio beat up on Nebraska.  Ouch. 

It seemed like only a couple of minutes after I went to sleep that Chuck was knocking on the bedroom door, telling me it was time to get up to go help fry the squirrels for the feast.  I managed to move about and pull on some Under Armor, jeans, and a couple of shirts before I bid El "Sleep in a while."  Charlie had a cup of coffee in a travel mug for me and off we went.  We hadn't gone far when his phone rang and we went back for onions and some mushroom soup, staples of the final fry.  Barb was up to do chores and had noticed the forgotten staples on the kitchen counter.  After a cup of coffee, she and El were soon out to do chores. 

At Burton, we went into the machine shed and started moving stuff around to unearth a heavy wooden table we have used to put the heavy fryer on.  Brother-in-law Dave Fure came in and said there was a change of plan, and that we were going to fry in Bill's garage this morning.  Bill was there setting up his gas-driven fish fryer, a 2 x 3-foot or so device with long burners that will heat up a deep frying pan big enough for commercial use, I think.  He hooked up the gas and we were in business.  The oil, cold from a night in a truck, was on the solid side, so we had to heat it up with hot water before we could pour it in the frying pan.  They had a breading basket (basically two plastic bowls with a red plastic divider with holes in it).  You put the Fry Magic or whatever breading you want for your fish, or, er, squirrel in one bowl, snap in the red divider and put the meat to be breaded in the other, combine and turn and shake until covered.  The breaded legs and thighs and front shoulders were then placed gingerly into snapping hot oil to fry.  While the boys were frying  squirrel, I sipped coffee and told jokes.  Did you hear the one about the drunk and the . . . ; okay, actually, I also cut up some big white onions for the mix.  As they layered the browned chunks of meat in a roaster pan, I added layers of onion.  Dave poured cans of cream of mushroom and cream of chicken soup over the layers.  Keep in mind it was still too dark out to see beyond the garage door.  Bill refilled my coffee mug, thank goodness.  We talked about hunting, and fishing, and the weather, and farming, and broken down combines and such.  We heard a little about the night before when Lane White, a youngster taken out by one of the Deer Hunters - Jesse Sahr, killed his first buck; it was hanging in Bill's walk in cooler - another reason to get together this week I suspect.  Anyway, nephew Nick Hauk showed up with some more squirrel that he and his sons had shot, leading to more stories and more kidding.  When the roaster was full of fried tree rat parts, we covered it with tinfoil and Bill took the pan in to the kitchen to put it in the oven to simmer until dinner time up at Barb and Chuck's.

Back at the ranch, the girls had finished the chores (feeding a hundred and fifty or so feeder calves mostly), so Chuck fried bacon and eggs and fixed toast. Then we all started helping set up for the party.  There were tables and chairs to set up, a tent to put up, electric hookups to be set, desserts and potatoes to mix or heat up respectively.  Little ones to be taken care of, and of course, my favorite part - taste testing.

The crew started pulling in for what may be the 100th Squirrel Picnic.  They found that we were set up in the "man cave" on the side of the house that looks out over the Grant River valley because of the cool wind.  The Packers were playing, if you could call it that, on the big screen, but more alluring were the desserts and main dishes and of course, our squirrel.  There were scalloped potatoes, hot beef in gravy with cheese for sandwiches, ham sandwiches, cocktail wieners, cheesy potatoes, brownies, cake, peach cobbler, pumpkin dots, El's peanut butter cup treats, whipped cream - for use on everything!  Dips and chips, including Barb's hot tiger dip and more that I forgot that I ate, no doubt, oh yeah - a roaster full of falling off the bone tender and tasty squirrel.  Around all this gustatory delight, there was lots of catching up and ribbing and stories. 

At half-time Ellen and I and cousin Cindy, sat with Uncle Jerome "Peck" Hauk as he went through an old album of newspaper clippings and photos and explained a lot about them to us.  Peck is in his 90's I believe, but even some of the pictures and articles were too old for him to remember.  We did discover an old obituary for Ellen's great grandpa William Hauk who came over from Germany, fought in the Civil War with a unit from Wisconsin, moved here and caused the entire clan.  In the article it said what town in Germany he came from, a mystery to all of us - including Peck, until today.  I exclaimed, "Kunta Kinte, I have found you!"  I don't think too many people got the analogy.  Anyway, I asked Peck how Squirrel Picnics he had been to and he said that off hand at least 50.  I surmised that this could be close to the 100th one when he started telling me what he recalled about it, "We used to have down in the pasture at the Harry Bossert  place.  Before that they had it down in the Grant River bottoms, and down in Haas Hollow; we've had at this place (Chuck and Barb's) for a while and before that it was at Dick's (Hauk) for quite a while."  Peck is quite a fisherman.  He told me that he took one of his grandsons, Chris who lives in Washington, DC, and Christ girlfriend, Kristen, originally from Chicago, fishing last week.  Kristen had never been fishing and she caught a nice northern pike and was so thrilled.  "We cleaned and ate it for breakfast the next day," said Peck.  We met the Chris and Kristen and his brother, Eric and his new wife Mary Ann at their wedding reception in Potosi a couple of weeks ago.  Mary Ann is from Beirut, Lebanon.  Eric and Chris are architects, while Mary Ann and Kristen work for international concerns promoting green energy and clean water in third world countries.   Nice kids.

Until next time, get out - we switched off the post-game commiseration on the way north and enjoyed a University of the Air story on a new book about the history of bars, saloons, and breweries in Wisconsin called Bottoms Up: A Toast to Wisconsin's Historic Bars and Breweries (Places Along the Way) by Jim Draeger (Author), Mark Speltz (Author), and Mark Fay (Photographer) while taking in what might be one of the last great days of color on the river bluffs this season.  We hope to hear from our mountain kids on safari that they are back home in Colorado this week after nearly a month of trekking in Africa.  Our last email said that they were headed for Zanzibar and the beach.  Enjoy.

I will post some pictures and video taken with my LG HD smart phone.