Tag Archives: historical trekking

Hacked Away Years Ago

Posted on April 17, 2013 by Dennis Neely: Traditional Woodsman

Morning sun reflected off the tiny creek. The shiny silver band curled close to the big swamp’s edge, then disappeared in the matted canary grass. Unseen cardinals whit-sued to the south, this side of the watering hole. My moccasins crested … Continue reading →

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“Okay, Junior…”

Posted on April 10, 2013 by Dennis Neely: Traditional Woodsman

“Gob-obl-obl-obl-obl-obl!” “Kla-whoosh-BOOM!” Silence hung over the clearing for as long as it took the white, sulfurous stench to drift down range and dissipate.  Before I got close, there was no question the fourth turkey was dead. I knelt beside the … Continue reading →

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The Powder Horn Blew Up!

Posted on April 3, 2013 by Dennis Neely: Traditional Woodsman

“I was very fortunate,” my friend said. His voice betrayed the emotional aftermath he was trying to contain. “You heard the powder horn blew up? I always stress safety. I can’t believe it happened, but it’s got a lot of … Continue reading →

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Perhaps Another Time

Posted on March 20, 2013 by Dennis Neely: Traditional Woodsman

The neighbor’s rooster cackled. A slight easterly breath pushed the morning’s fog. A crow cawed, off to the west, near the nameless creek that meanders through the big swamp. Jerry’s rooster cackled again and again. “Caw, caw.” What sounded like … Continue reading →

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What’s That Bird?

Posted on March 13, 2013 by Dennis Neely: Traditional Woodsman

Standing corn bordered the swale hole. Tall cottonwoods flourished in the outer edges, amongst the sedge grass and raspberry tangles. The oldest tree, at the swale’s southernmost tip, was dead. Two upper branches tented against the trunk. Slabs of bark … Continue reading →

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“Testify to what you did…”

Posted on March 6, 2013 by Dennis Neely: Traditional Woodsman

A young doe ran by, its white tail up. It did not appear alarmed, just in a hurry. A pleasant breeze caressed my face, coming out of the south, same as the deer. The faint scent of oak leaves and … Continue reading →

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Feeling Small

Posted on February 28, 2013 by Dennis Neely: Traditional Woodsman

November’s last day broke with a violent rainstorm. A steady drizzle and a high wind rendered a morning hunt impossible, but by late afternoon the tempest subsided. The air was late-March warm; the mixed stench of night crawlers, stale urine … Continue reading →

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A Joyous Chorus of Hound Music

Posted on February 20, 2013 by Dennis Neely: Traditional Woodsman

Seven woodsmen trudged up the long grade. The blazed trail cut through a young, regenerated forest. At seventy paces, the tight-growing maples, beeches, cherries and oaks looked like an impenetrable gray palisade. Before the first pause, the ragged column strung … Continue reading →

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