MO Skeeters Mutated by Climate Change

I went down to the Steinberg Memorial Prairie last nite to commune with my deer buddies. The park service burned the prairie last fall and the blackberries are coming in like gang-busters. So we will have lovely blackberry cobblers this summer!

But the mosquitoes down there clouded me. And they are BIG! These new global warming induced critters are as big as birds and faster than a speeding bullet. I was down a pint of blood before I could even say "ouch!" They don't seem to be deterred by 100% DEET so there's not much hope of repelling them with some wussy peppermint/tea tree oil "natural" concoctions.

The only thing to do is harvest them. I'm working on a device that is a gel-filled sleeve to be worn on the arms, containing the scent of human blood. When the giant skeeters stick their snout in the gel, it will firm up and keep them from flying away. And that means dinnertime!

GIANT MISSOURI MOSQUITO FRITTERS

Ingredients:

• Three medium-sized Giant Missouri Mutant Mosquitoes (approx. 8oz apiece)
• Flour
• Salt
• Pepper
• Rosemary
• Canola Oil

Preparation:
Field-dress the mosquitoes, removing the beaks and wings. Sprinkle salt, pepper and rosemary in the body cavity and close with poultry trusses. Dredge the insects in flour. Bring canola oil to full heat just short of smoking. Fry the mosquitoes for approximately 5 minutes per side. Serve with sweet potato french fries and field greens. Serves 3.

Disturbing News from the Missouri Wilderness

I just spent the last weekend in March deep in the Mark Twain National Forest, nestled on the banks of the upper Courtois Creek. I became depressed as I observed the radically incorrect climate. Year after year I've spent many hours in the deep woods in all seasons and the relentless climate warming has continued to accelerate.

On the first evening, I was amazed to see that the fireflies have come out in droves. I don't recall fireflies before late May - until this year. June beetles are out as well, and as their name suggests they are considerably early. The mosquitoes were swarming in clouds, not like in Missouri but like Canada or Alaska where a swarm of mosquitoes can drain a man in minutes. And the seed ticks are so thick they're immune to DEET.

Two days of foraging for mushrooms and other wild things led nowhere. Not a single morel was to be found. The soil is moist, but the leaf mast is dry as a bone and crunchy underfoot. The daytime temperature was 88F and it barely dropped below 80F during the evenings. Again, March 31 in Missouri. Wrong as a three headed billy-goat.

The only bright spot to my journey was the quality of water in the Courtois Creek. The river is abundant and teeming with crayfish, darters, snails, minnows, and all sorts of fish. An otter surfaced during the day when I was setting up camp. His family continued to show themselves for days as if they graciously allowed me to share their corner of the world. But this will be scant consolation when the atmosphere boils off the surface of the planet and the Courtois goes bone dry.

But at least America had a good run plundering the natural resources, living comfortably at the expense of every other living creature and modifying the environment to suit her greedy children. And now the atmosphere has been ruined.

Just fucking ruined.

Remember the Cicadas?

I was just thinking about the cicada event this summer. They were so prolific, so busy. And so beautiful. At one point I heard rumors that cicada wings were a valuable commodity, supposedly used to decorate tiny fairy figurines with crystalline wings. Or something to that effect. The anticipated eBay gold rush never came.

they emerged from holes in the ground ...


and filled the trees and sky ...


after leaving the husks of their former forms behind ....

Break the Fever!

There's just one way to break a bad case of cabin fever, and that's to get out of the cabin and on to the ground. Despite warnings of wet weather, I'll be heading to Peck Ranch Conservation Area and backpacking in to the Rocky Creek area north of Stegall Mountain.

Who's in? I'll be headed south on the OT near Rocky Falls at 8AM on Saturday, March 5. Join me for a trip to the top of Stegall Mountain, then down into the hollows for a deep-woods evening camp. There'll be plenty of grub and libation. Join me? Leave a reply and let me know to expect you. I'll leave the proverbial string out.

Jewels In the Night

If you're lucky enough to be in the bitter cold ice-bound midwest tonight, it will do you well to shed your cabin feverish state and go outside for a bit. The trees are covered with ice and the available ambient light illuminates them. To me, it's as if the goddess Gaia has chosen a unique moment in time to freeze the glory of evolutionary continuity and allow mere ascendents like me to grasp the crystalline reality of our beauty and fortunate majesty.

Go outside. There's not much of a moon - a mere sliver of a slice of light - but the stars are out tonight and the cold has dropped the moisture in the air as tiny fragments of snow. Clear. Cold. Quiet. Crystalline. Sacred. Yours. A delight of light. In the dark. Reach for it. Savor it. It's for you and you alone.

I love being here on this glorious planet. I can't very well thank the Great Clock Maker but I will thank you all for being here with me. It's just lovely.

Winter Ozark Float Trip

Gosh, I need to get out on a river! This time of year, the algae and sediment drop out of the Ozark streams, leaving it amazingly clear and blue. Every rock, every fish, every living thing in the stream is exposed to view. Mind you, it can be a bit chilly, especially if you go overboard. I always bring a fluffy sleeping bag packed in two layers of waterproof bags in case I dump and need to warm up. Just find a nice gravel bar, build a big driftwood fire, and crawl into that warm bag.

Big Piney, Little Piney, Gasconade, Courtois, Huzzah, Meramec, Current, Jacks Fork... take your pick. You won't be crowded out by hordes of drunken party-goers - for all their hubris and volume they just can't hang with the field hippies.

Gunsight Politics

Well, Sarah Palin's clearly shown what thoughtless and violent insinuation will precipitate. Gunsight politics. What did we expect, after all.

Ms. Palin, I'll see your gunsight analogy bet, and raise you. As a big game hunter there are a couple of approaches; hunting for trophies or hunting for meat.

As far as hunting Ms. Palin is concerned, I'd mount it - but I wouldn't eat it. She's just too bitter for my palate.