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You Don't Have to be Cold and Wet
I sit on a sloped area overlooking a wooded bench in about
6-inches of snow wondering when the buck from last night’s,
smoky-camp, dream would show himself. I didn’t have a watch but
I know it was an hour after Dad dropped me off before the first
dull light peeked through the leaf-barren oaks. Every little
sound, like that chipmunk digging leaves under a stump or
distant rifle shots so far away—made my 12-year old heart beat
like a drumming grouse. The boots I wore were two sizes too
small—hand-me-downs from an uncle, and that Navy Pee-coat was
too large, so holding heat was a job. I didn’t have good gloves
but mom had tucked her church-going, hand knit gloves into my
pocket the day before we left Portage, on our way to a cabin
near Sinnamahoning, PA—and that made me smile.
The evening before was
still fresh in my mind as dad and my uncles set before that
malfunctioning, pot-belly stove, talking about deer seasons
past—and the war. I was in a squeaky top bunk covered with an
itchy, wool, military blanket. I could hear some of their talk,
especially when dad was bragging about how well I shot guns and
“nothing scares him” stories. He was taking a little gruff from
one of the uncles about me punching a kid in the mouth and being
sent home from school. Dad, a Pacific Island Marine survivor,
shut him-up with a few words I best not repeat—and then
explained that someone had said something “bad” about our
down-syndrome sister and “my sons had better protect their
sister.”
I snapped-to when I heard a nearby rifle shot and lifted my old,
military 30:06
Springfield rifle, with peep sights, to my Pee coat thick
shoulder—but I just could not keep from shaking, a combination
of buck fever and 10-degree temperature. I fired a shot, and
even got another shot off, but that buck had nothing to be
worried about. I was so angry with myself that I cried—and I
never cry.
I never forgot that day, and vowed to never allow weather to
defeat me again. That was a silly promise because it seemed that
every year I would come to the brink of freezing to death from
some hunting or fishing adventure. Raising five boys was a
clothing challenge also. We learned that wool was great until it
was heavy-wet. We learned that the new-phase goose down was a
God-send—until it got wet. We learned that traditional rain gear
was a Band-Aid, not a “gully-wash” comfort plan. Air boots, big
socks, bad gloves and “bulk” were not the answer.
Fast forward through a construction career, but always a hunter
and angler.
I’ve been an
outdoorsman all my life—a professional outdoorsman the past 35
years, and jot-down-this-statement: “the
best this avocation/vocation/profession has to offer accelerates
on wet days, cold days, snowy days, windy days and downright
nasty days.”
It’s not crowded on those great days either.
My past year/years goes something like this: deer and goose
hunting in January for a few weeks; Coyote hunting in February;
7 weeks in PA from mid-March through April smallmouth fishing—in
some of the nastiest weather on record; lots of rain during
spring and fall; five weeks in PA deer/bear hunting; last few
months of winter in MD deer hunting. Total outdoors days—about
300.
I’ll never forget the day that President Bush fished the
He wore a skimpy baseball jacket and cap and the wind just
shredded him. I found clothing in my boat including a Lowrance
jacket that Mark McQuown had sent for him. Later in the day, I
did ask why he was so underdressed and he explained that he had
walked his dog on the south lawn and it didn’t feel all that
cold.
The KP Rules of
Weather Engagement:
·
Never, never believe a weather report. Never
·
Every mph of wind is a minus-1 in temperature.
·
You can always “take extra clothing off.”
·
Protect your head, hands and feet.
·
Your outer shell must repel wind and rain.
·
If you are a born-sissy, stop reading this. Just move to
·
Cabelas, RedHead, Under Armour, Gortex, Grapper
warmers & ThermoCELL
Heated Insoles—and occasionally, a heated pickup truck will get
you through most any situation.
Now, for example, I will be packing for a 6-7 weeks stay in
mid-Pa, where I will fish the Susquehanna/Juniata Rivers for
trophy smallmouth bass. This is not unlike the 5 weeks hunting
winter bucks and bear. I headquarter in
I’ll dress partially in my motel before going to the Ranch House
for breakfast where I generally meet my clients. My base-layer
will be: Under Armour, Cabelas or RedHead “Expedition” long
underwear; virgin wool socks; jeans, street boots, Cabelas wool
sweater and down vest. Don’t overheat before the cold.
At the Campground, I put Grabber Toe Warmers on the second pair
of socks; pull on my Cabela’s Gortex, Guide Wear bibs,
Insulated, Gortex boots or Mucks; windproof pull over and
Cabelas Guide Wear, Gortex jacket. I’ll wear an Under Armour,
pull-over, or Mercury/Carhart wool cap—over my billed hat. For
face protection, My buddy “Coop” bought be a “baklava.”
You need gloves to ride with and gloves to fish with. I like the
Under Armour and Cabelas under-gloves because you can “feel the
bite.” The outer glove must be Gortex and one size larger than
normal. For “warm-up” periods, nothing beats those Grabber
10-Hour hand warmers with a set in your gloves and another in
your fleece pockets or mid-riff hands pouch.
Tips for outerwear:
·
Don’t try to use the same Gortex outer gear for warm weather as
you do for cold. Your foul-weather gear must be large enough to
build a good base under—but never too bulky. Dress Smart—is my
slogan, and now it’s not so expensive as you may think.
·
Short top boots allow rain from your outerwear to run into your
shoes. You will not like that. Bibs far outpace pants because
it’s another layer over your core. Wet gloves are cold gloves.
Those hand warmers become useless when wet. There is nothing
wrong with a hood on your jacket—unless it isn’t pulled over
your head and neck. By the way, nothing angers a boat-owner with
a carpeted boat than a guest that wears aggressive-sole
boots—and pivots or twists on the carpet, seats and boat finish.
·
Wear something around your neck.
A thermos of coffee, tea or combination of tomato juice and beef
broth is really a good idea. Don’t be dumb and think alcohol
helps. That’s trailer-calories.
I know that last, late winter and early spring was a brutal test
of manhood and womanhood. I had three ladies that were outfitted
in Johnny’s trailer by he and I, and those ladies were awesome.
We had the good stuff to protect them and “look be damned.”
Outdoorsmen have a choice: you can stay in the house and watch
men do things on TV; you can slink off to southern climates or
you can “just do it like we do.” I can live anywhere I want to
at this stage in my life. I do just that. An airline ticket for
a few weeks at the Big O is just an interlude. I love where I
live and “work.”
Ken is a member of the Fresh Water Fishing Hall of Fame as a
Legendary Guide and can be reached at 240-447-2206 or
kenpenrod@comcast.net.
Visit the website at
www.penrodsguides.com
for lots of valuable information including Ken’s weekly fishing
report;
Stay warm, but stay involved in our tremendous resources. Zip up
that man suit. Call us.
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