Читать книгу Backlash: A Compendium of Lore and Lies (Mostly Lies) Concerning Hunting, Fishing and the Out of Doors - Galen Winter - Страница 6

Foreword

Gathered around the campfire on a cool October evening are four drowsy grouse hunters. Slouched on lawn chairs, chins on chests, they’re yielding to the day’s hunt, evening cocktails and plattersful of Grouse Breast Villa Louis. Soon they’ll trudge off to tents and sleeping bags. For now, however, they quietly savor the final moments of a perfect day afield.

Beyond the shadows, busying himself with after-dinner kitchen chores, is the camp cook and self appointed poet laureate.

He stacks the last dish and, honoring a personal tradition, commences reciting “The Cremation of Sam McGee” with a booming eloquence. It is the first of a series of grouse camp poems he customarily recounts.

After several verses, however, he pauses to consider his inattentive audience. The oldest among them is his junior by ten years. Yet to a man they’ve caved in before the shank of the evening.

He pours himself another dollop of The Macallan and quietly approaches the ring of reposing comrades. Reaching into the pocket of his brush pants, he withdraws a handful of 20 gauge number eights and casually tosses them into the campfire. He sips his scotch and waits.

At the pop of the first primer, four heads snap erect. The following explosions send sparks and hunters flying in a confusion of shrieks and curses. “Perhaps,” says the poet, “you’d prefer Kipling’s Road to Mandalay?”

The moment was classic Winter. I’ve known the man for over a decade and can attest that his good humor is not confined to the printed page. He’s demonstrated his mastery of the practical joke by making a fool of me from Hudson Bay goose camps to classic trout waters and points in between. Despite his stinging wit, or perhaps because of it, there’s not a finer or funnier companion.

There’s also a professional side to our long friendship. Many of the stories to follow first appeared in WISCONSIN SPORTSMAN - a magazine I owned and edited from 1972 until its sale in 1986. From its debut, Galen’s BACKLASH column was a solid hit among readers. It was immediately obvious that here was a singular talent, not a McMannus or Zern wannabe.

His outrageous tales were usually centered within or near his beloved cabin along the South Branch of the Oconto River. It’s here that Galen still regularly chases trout, grouse or deer. Often he will simply tinker with or relax in his impressive homemade sauna. In fact, I’ve long suspected that his bizarre story ideas are induced by prolonged exposure to steam heat (as I certainly know he is not a drug user).

For those who are reading Galen Winter for the first time, a word of warning: The author tends to dabble in social criticism.

This may be uncharted territory for most outdoor humorists, but Galen roams it freely, taking pot shots at politicians, militant feminists, anti-hunters and other pretentious prey too self-exalted for a little satire. All of this while spinning a package of first class hunting and fishing yarns at no extra charge.

So, settle in, head for the first story and expect the unexpected.

And don’t take any of what’s ahead too seriously. Galen certainly didn’t.

Tom Petrie, Boulder Junction