Post by Scott McCray on Apr 14, 2006 20:29:59 GMT -5
The Future of the Industry
by JC Desclos
(aka - swampstalker)
I was knuckle deep in a bag of Cheeto’s and a little more than halfway through my fourth beer as I was clicking my way through T-man. My keyboard had taken on a orange hue from the nacho cheese but at the moment it was of no concern, since the wife wasn’t expected home for another couple of days. I had replied to a post on muskrat trapping and it wasn’t long before another hotshot followed close behind with a blatant contradiction to the advice I had just given. A few weeks prior, I would have been spittin’ profanities but I had gotten accustomed to the onslaught of his contradictions and have now grown to expect them. I clicked on a few posts from the newbies, to welcome them aboard and then went to check out the status on the Duke bashing. From what I could gather it was running about 75/25 with the majority in defense of the Dukes. When I became a member there, my first post (aside from my initial greeting) was a question about the pros and cons of Duke traps. I asked for opinions and I certainly got them. I got the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between. Some of the heavy hitters despised the Korean made tools of the trade - while others stepped forward in their defense and then got trampled by the heavy hitters once again and the whole ball of wax turned into a bonafide pissin’ match. Like a lot of other posts - it was downright entertaining.
I returned to my laptop with another beverage and continued to navigate my way through the forum. I saw some pretty impressive catches on fox and coyote and some not so impressive biceps. Looks like Jsavell is up to his antics again and it appears that another sucker surrenders to the ongoing temptations of the oatmeal cake. The Grizzly Man documentary is back in the limelight again and the keyboard gets a spray of Coors light as I read the ballad of Timothy Tredwell while taking a swallow. “To Alaska went Timothy Tredwell - with his galpal who thought she was lead well - they set up a camp in the cold and the damp - but the bear didn’t care he was fed well. I had read it before on a previous post but this time it really took me out and I had to take a short recess to sop up the orange mud that was proceeding to seep into my keyboard. I was on my second day of bachelorism and I was deteriorating rapidly with yet another two days before the return of the missus. So far I had been subsisting on Coors Light, hot wings, Stouffers mac-n-cheese and an occasional Nathan's hot dog, which I kept burping and the backlash was overriding the remainder of my delicacies. The wife certainly wouldn’t approve of my choice of sustenance.
It was evident that trapping season was winding down in most parts of the
country, as the majority of the topics on board were heading in a downward spiral away from the hard core trapping stuff of the early season. The trapline photos were being replaced with puppies, pickups and pictures of ATV’s. I myself had a hot topic on board. My “what’s your favorite beer” post was fast approaching its third page of replies - my hardest hit post to date. It was only launched out of fun but like usual there were the few complainers trying to get it deleted. I began to second guess my decision about posting it in the first place but then the “what’s your favorite tobacco” post followed close behind and my cloud of complaints drifted to the tobacco fields of the south. I had a swallow of beer, the dog had a good fart for herself and onward I surfed into my cyber-world of camaraderie.
I dropped in on a few more posts and gave my advice to the best of my ability. I clicked to view some more of the season catch pics and then went to investigate a topic that had been hovering up near the top of the page all evening. When I opened it up I had found that the hot topic of the night was about a young trapper on the site that started his own trapping forum. I took immediate interest in this because I became a member of the new site just a few weeks prior. I have to admit that I was a bit surprised and disappointed in the contents of the topic at hand since there was a good deal of negative feedback targeted at the young mans endeavor. Luckily there was also a counterbalance of positive feedback thrown into the mix and I quickly replied with my two cents in support of his behalf. I never did see what comments flowed in behind me because the post got deleted shortly there-afterwards. I minimized the screen and shot off to the new trappers forum and found it a buzz of activity. Apparently there was a similar hot topic on another trappers forum that was also bashing the young man. I clicked on the link provided and there floating at the top of the page was another boatload of negativity. Here were grown men, some of them well seasoned trappers, and others of professional status, boasting about how the young trapper shouldn’t be “meddling where he don’t belong” and he was gonna cause more harm than good to the industry... I muttered a profanity.
When the young trapper first posted that he was starting his own trappers forum, I joined up without hesitation. Maybe it’ll go somewhere, maybe it wont - but I might as well support him in his endeavor because the way I’ve always heard it was: “The future of the (industry) lies in the hands of our youth.” It was evident that there were those who thought otherwise. But to be honest, I was eager to support him because in a way his youthful ambitions were reminding me of myself when I was his age, and for some strange reason... I liked that.
Thirty some odd years ago, when I was just beginning to catch myself some fur, my ambitions exceeded my knowledge and my only form of guidance didn’t extend much further than a few tattered issues of Fur-Fish & Game magazine. Computers, cell phones and microwaves hadn’t yet worked there way into my vocabulary. There were no trappers in the area that I knew of and I had no-one to lean on for advice. Having T-man and trapping videos to learn from certainly would have shortened my long and discouraging introduction into the fur trade.
After a season or two of sporadic success, my buddy Roger and I thought we were well on our way to the big time. We started buying road-kills from friends and it wasn’t long before the word got out and we found ourselves in the fur business. It still warms my heart a bit when I think back on our backyard shed with the crude little sign that read “J&R Raw Furs” - right there in the middle of the city. Looking back, I can assure you that none of it would have ever taken place if my father had decided to nip it in the bud and throw discouragement at our endeavor. We didn’t know what we were doing, we weren’t even teenagers yet and probably made a mess of the furs but what harm were we doing? It was better than having us occupy our time on the streets - my father knew it and therefore let us proceed. So when I stumbled upon the young trapper starting his own trapping forum I couldn’t help but reflecting back on the past and my own youthful endeavors. I think it’s fantastic what the young man is trying to accomplish and it’s with no uncertainty that with all the information and resources that are available to those that have the ambition to seek them out, he will capitalize on his ingenuity and succeed beyond his own expectations. I most likely would have never evolved into the trapper I am today if my elders had dampened my ambition from the get-go. I was dumbfounded by all the negative attention the young buck was getting over this but was also elated to see that there were others out there offering their help and encouragement.
I was typing a reply to one of the trappers until “Smile for a while and lets be jolly - love shouldn’t be so melancholy” started sawing its way through my concentration, forcing me to get up and shut the radio off and I lost my train of thought I never promised you a rose garden was I song I couldn’t stand back in the day it was a so called hit and I can stand it even less now. A remake to me was like the reintroduction of bellbottom pants... what were they thinking? I plunged back into my bag, took another slug of beer, wiped my hands on my orange finger printed sweatpants and regained focus of my keyboard. The new trappers forum was a slurry of activity now and buzzing with about a dozen members and nearly as many guests on board. It was hitting record highs while the bad flack was backfiring and propelling the young buck’s website into stardom.
The members list continued to climb and some pretty creative animations were beginning to appear in the signature box of some of the new members. I hadn’t yet added a photo to my profile but decided to give it a go, figuring it would add a personal touch to my post. Not being very clever with these computers, this would be a major achievement for me if I could pull it off.
I navigated my way through the Photobucket registration without any hang-ups and chose a good trapline picture of myself standing next to a boatload of critters from a successful day on the waterline. I clicked submit but I must have clicked on something else too soon and stopped the upload because all that appeared was my head. It was a good photo mind ya, with good expression and good lighting but it’s not what I had in mind and would have been better suited for a personal ad. I tried uploading it again to the forum but it came out ridiculously huge. Hmmmm. I gave it another go and it appeared as a click-able thumbnail and then on the next try it appeared only as a jumble of text. I gave up in frustration and logged off for the remainder of the evening, with a blank space left in my signature box. So in this case the old adage holds truth ... I should of quit while I was a head.
by JC Desclos
(aka - swampstalker)
I was knuckle deep in a bag of Cheeto’s and a little more than halfway through my fourth beer as I was clicking my way through T-man. My keyboard had taken on a orange hue from the nacho cheese but at the moment it was of no concern, since the wife wasn’t expected home for another couple of days. I had replied to a post on muskrat trapping and it wasn’t long before another hotshot followed close behind with a blatant contradiction to the advice I had just given. A few weeks prior, I would have been spittin’ profanities but I had gotten accustomed to the onslaught of his contradictions and have now grown to expect them. I clicked on a few posts from the newbies, to welcome them aboard and then went to check out the status on the Duke bashing. From what I could gather it was running about 75/25 with the majority in defense of the Dukes. When I became a member there, my first post (aside from my initial greeting) was a question about the pros and cons of Duke traps. I asked for opinions and I certainly got them. I got the good, the bad, the ugly and everything in between. Some of the heavy hitters despised the Korean made tools of the trade - while others stepped forward in their defense and then got trampled by the heavy hitters once again and the whole ball of wax turned into a bonafide pissin’ match. Like a lot of other posts - it was downright entertaining.
I returned to my laptop with another beverage and continued to navigate my way through the forum. I saw some pretty impressive catches on fox and coyote and some not so impressive biceps. Looks like Jsavell is up to his antics again and it appears that another sucker surrenders to the ongoing temptations of the oatmeal cake. The Grizzly Man documentary is back in the limelight again and the keyboard gets a spray of Coors light as I read the ballad of Timothy Tredwell while taking a swallow. “To Alaska went Timothy Tredwell - with his galpal who thought she was lead well - they set up a camp in the cold and the damp - but the bear didn’t care he was fed well. I had read it before on a previous post but this time it really took me out and I had to take a short recess to sop up the orange mud that was proceeding to seep into my keyboard. I was on my second day of bachelorism and I was deteriorating rapidly with yet another two days before the return of the missus. So far I had been subsisting on Coors Light, hot wings, Stouffers mac-n-cheese and an occasional Nathan's hot dog, which I kept burping and the backlash was overriding the remainder of my delicacies. The wife certainly wouldn’t approve of my choice of sustenance.
It was evident that trapping season was winding down in most parts of the
country, as the majority of the topics on board were heading in a downward spiral away from the hard core trapping stuff of the early season. The trapline photos were being replaced with puppies, pickups and pictures of ATV’s. I myself had a hot topic on board. My “what’s your favorite beer” post was fast approaching its third page of replies - my hardest hit post to date. It was only launched out of fun but like usual there were the few complainers trying to get it deleted. I began to second guess my decision about posting it in the first place but then the “what’s your favorite tobacco” post followed close behind and my cloud of complaints drifted to the tobacco fields of the south. I had a swallow of beer, the dog had a good fart for herself and onward I surfed into my cyber-world of camaraderie.
I dropped in on a few more posts and gave my advice to the best of my ability. I clicked to view some more of the season catch pics and then went to investigate a topic that had been hovering up near the top of the page all evening. When I opened it up I had found that the hot topic of the night was about a young trapper on the site that started his own trapping forum. I took immediate interest in this because I became a member of the new site just a few weeks prior. I have to admit that I was a bit surprised and disappointed in the contents of the topic at hand since there was a good deal of negative feedback targeted at the young mans endeavor. Luckily there was also a counterbalance of positive feedback thrown into the mix and I quickly replied with my two cents in support of his behalf. I never did see what comments flowed in behind me because the post got deleted shortly there-afterwards. I minimized the screen and shot off to the new trappers forum and found it a buzz of activity. Apparently there was a similar hot topic on another trappers forum that was also bashing the young man. I clicked on the link provided and there floating at the top of the page was another boatload of negativity. Here were grown men, some of them well seasoned trappers, and others of professional status, boasting about how the young trapper shouldn’t be “meddling where he don’t belong” and he was gonna cause more harm than good to the industry... I muttered a profanity.
When the young trapper first posted that he was starting his own trappers forum, I joined up without hesitation. Maybe it’ll go somewhere, maybe it wont - but I might as well support him in his endeavor because the way I’ve always heard it was: “The future of the (industry) lies in the hands of our youth.” It was evident that there were those who thought otherwise. But to be honest, I was eager to support him because in a way his youthful ambitions were reminding me of myself when I was his age, and for some strange reason... I liked that.
Thirty some odd years ago, when I was just beginning to catch myself some fur, my ambitions exceeded my knowledge and my only form of guidance didn’t extend much further than a few tattered issues of Fur-Fish & Game magazine. Computers, cell phones and microwaves hadn’t yet worked there way into my vocabulary. There were no trappers in the area that I knew of and I had no-one to lean on for advice. Having T-man and trapping videos to learn from certainly would have shortened my long and discouraging introduction into the fur trade.
After a season or two of sporadic success, my buddy Roger and I thought we were well on our way to the big time. We started buying road-kills from friends and it wasn’t long before the word got out and we found ourselves in the fur business. It still warms my heart a bit when I think back on our backyard shed with the crude little sign that read “J&R Raw Furs” - right there in the middle of the city. Looking back, I can assure you that none of it would have ever taken place if my father had decided to nip it in the bud and throw discouragement at our endeavor. We didn’t know what we were doing, we weren’t even teenagers yet and probably made a mess of the furs but what harm were we doing? It was better than having us occupy our time on the streets - my father knew it and therefore let us proceed. So when I stumbled upon the young trapper starting his own trapping forum I couldn’t help but reflecting back on the past and my own youthful endeavors. I think it’s fantastic what the young man is trying to accomplish and it’s with no uncertainty that with all the information and resources that are available to those that have the ambition to seek them out, he will capitalize on his ingenuity and succeed beyond his own expectations. I most likely would have never evolved into the trapper I am today if my elders had dampened my ambition from the get-go. I was dumbfounded by all the negative attention the young buck was getting over this but was also elated to see that there were others out there offering their help and encouragement.
I was typing a reply to one of the trappers until “Smile for a while and lets be jolly - love shouldn’t be so melancholy” started sawing its way through my concentration, forcing me to get up and shut the radio off and I lost my train of thought I never promised you a rose garden was I song I couldn’t stand back in the day it was a so called hit and I can stand it even less now. A remake to me was like the reintroduction of bellbottom pants... what were they thinking? I plunged back into my bag, took another slug of beer, wiped my hands on my orange finger printed sweatpants and regained focus of my keyboard. The new trappers forum was a slurry of activity now and buzzing with about a dozen members and nearly as many guests on board. It was hitting record highs while the bad flack was backfiring and propelling the young buck’s website into stardom.
The members list continued to climb and some pretty creative animations were beginning to appear in the signature box of some of the new members. I hadn’t yet added a photo to my profile but decided to give it a go, figuring it would add a personal touch to my post. Not being very clever with these computers, this would be a major achievement for me if I could pull it off.
I navigated my way through the Photobucket registration without any hang-ups and chose a good trapline picture of myself standing next to a boatload of critters from a successful day on the waterline. I clicked submit but I must have clicked on something else too soon and stopped the upload because all that appeared was my head. It was a good photo mind ya, with good expression and good lighting but it’s not what I had in mind and would have been better suited for a personal ad. I tried uploading it again to the forum but it came out ridiculously huge. Hmmmm. I gave it another go and it appeared as a click-able thumbnail and then on the next try it appeared only as a jumble of text. I gave up in frustration and logged off for the remainder of the evening, with a blank space left in my signature box. So in this case the old adage holds truth ... I should of quit while I was a head.