Adversity

I have never been big in the art of studying from books. Rather I like to learn all that I can from real life. Not
the black and white scratchings found on the dying tissue of some poor tree or its relatives. Now don’t
get me wrong, I did very well in school. Mainly because I wanted to have the latitude given those with
good grades to do what they want without parental interference. Or for that matter, a teachers
interference. The adversity of being trapped for too many hours each day behind the walls of a classroom
only made the freedom of the outdoors that much sweeter.
With good grades, teachers although cruel and very wise in the ways of torture, namely the giving out of
homework, seemed to accept the excuses given by the outdoors student when said homework did not
appear on time. Excuses such as…… "Ms Cruelhardy, I would have turned in my homework but I needed
a few more Rag decoys in my Snow goose spread the other day. The white sheets of paper the homework
was on seemed to fit the bill so I laid them out carefully among the other decoys planning to pick them up
later. The problem was they looked so good that my dog picked them up and ate them." … "Yes Ma'am it
does sound bad and unbelievable, but I assure you it is true. In fact, I was wondering if you could
recommend a good book I might find in the library   ( emphasis here to be put on library) on Retriever
training." ……" And Ma'am, Do you like goose pate'?"....….." You do!" ….."Yes Ma'am, next time I will use
something different instead of my homework." "One last thing Ma'am, could you recommend another
book on Gourmet cooking!"
What teacher could resist the cry for help from one her best students? Especially when one is offering
such a delicacy. Or for that matter knowledge above and beyond that that she herself had achieved up to
that time. Adversity had taught us each something new that day! She learned a new and exciting use for
the common sheet of paper, and I gained the knowledge and complete understanding of what made Ms
Cruelhardy so mean. Goose Pate! Yuk!
When I got to college I took an Animal Behavior class because it covered so many requirements and
seemed an easy class for the adventurous explorer. Animal and aquatic life has been a big part of the
studying I had done to that point in my life. If you are to hunt, you need to study. Every outing is a
learning experience. Especially those that involved adversity! I for instance know a horse trail I will not
take the next time I am in Wyoming hunting. I learned new things hunting every time I went out. Things
even my PHD Professor had not learned in all of her studying between the four stuffy walls of a college
room. The discovery of new animal species was not beyond the grasp of the outdoors student. Exciting
new discoveries for all the world to see or at least for my college class to enjoy.
The problem was that we were really expected to study there. As Professor Blankmind read off the course
plan as she envisioned it, the members of the class became less. Adversity and homework had caused the
rats to start leaving a sinking ship. So many left in fact that it almost became necessary to cancel the
class. Having spent so much time in the outdoors in the study of animal behavior, and having survived a
real wild west horseback hunt, I had thought the class would be easy. My survival skills as an
outdoorsman should have kicked in and saved me from Mrs. Blankmind, but they failed me.
My concept of the study of animal behavior and that of the Professor began at opposite ends of the planet
and proceeded in different directions. She wanted us to learn the various parts of the brain in order to
understand why animals do what they do. The brain! Yuk! I had a hard time helping my father harvest the
brain for eating from the various animals we had shot. I did not want to study the brain nor did I want to eat
it. My fathers theory though, was that every part strengthens a part. Hmm!
That reminds me of something! My father can eat some strange things. On a scout trip one time into the
High Sierra wilderness, we were digging in old tree stumps and logs for pine beetle larvae, to use for bait.
We were going to hike up above tree line and try for some golden trout. I am not sure who had the idea
that the thumb thick, wiggling worms were edible, but my dad proved the point by downing a few. During
the same trip he got several participants in the hike, to become members in the "Eyeball club." I will not
describe the process only saying that it involved the catching of a trout and, swallowing the…..well I guess
you get the picture. Or maybe I should say see the picture. I wish my father was younger now because he
would be perfect for that reality show where they have to eat so many strange things.
My father also liked to do experiments on his family members. One time at work while eating a tasty roast
beef sandwich that my father had made for me, it came to me that I could not remember seeing any beef in
the refrigerator. The sandwich was good though and I tried to put what it was I might be eating out of my
mind and just enjoy the sandwich. But I could not, and threw half of the sandwich away.
Later that day when I got home I looked in the refrigerator to see what it might have been on my sandwich.
Nothing caught my eye except the scrambled eggs that were left from the morning's breakfast. Come to
think of it, those eggs were a little funny also. Seemed they had a gritty texture like some sand had been
spilled in them. Nonetheless, I had eaten all that was on my plate but did not go back for seconds. The
least I could do since dad had gone to the trouble of cooking it, right!
Tense hours were spent waiting for dad to come home and at last find out what I had eaten. Not to worry
he said upon his return. It was only parts from that deer you got last week. "Yea, I had begun to figure that
out but what parts is what I am asking, dad". "Parts is parts," he said. A squeal of protest from me and he
finally confessed to his treachery. It had been brains in the eggs and tongue on my sandwich.   He
seemed so surprised when I began to get pale and had to sit down after his information. As far as I know
that was the last experiment he tried on me. Although the jerky he gave me hunting this year was strange!
Hmmm!
Anyway back to the animal behavior class. The teacher, as I found out, was a true animal rights
participant. I found this out one day after letting it slip that I was a hunter. The sick and disgusting look on
her face told me that this slip had been a mistake. Her displeasure at having a hunter in her class was
evident.
I received the same look one day after telling her she was wrong during a discussion about evolution, as it
concerned Quail, indigenous to California. She was in a hurry though, and not wanting the flow of her
lecture to be disrupted, only asked me to prepare a paper for the following week on how she was wrong. I
could have the first 15 minutes of that class for my presentation, she hissed. I noticed a slight smirk on her
face as she said this, and wondered what it meant.
Now you might think that this would have been a blow to an avid outdoors person such as I, having to
spend the weekend preparing a school paper. Especially, since it was the middle of bird season. This
would be true if I were normal, but if you have read much of my writing you will already know the answer. I
truly appreciated my Professors kindness and understanding and vowed to do all I could to make this the
best presentation I could.
As the Professor did for many of her class lectures, I had props and slides prepared the following
Monday. I think she was a bit surprised when I walked in early for class with the big box I was carrying.
She was again surprised when I asked if I could remove her slides from the overhead projector to prepare
it for my slides. Beads of sweat began to pool above her eyebrows as she watched the preparations. Was
that the smell of intellectual fear wafting through the air? Or was the smell coming from the box? The box
had been sitting in the hot summer sun longer than I would have liked. Hmm!
When it was time for class to start, I began by covering what the professor had said the week before. " As
you all remember Professor Blankmind stated that there were only two species of quail living in the state
of California. Mountain and Valley quail. There is a third and I will prove this to you now." At this point I
reached into the box and pulled out the body of a male Gambrels quail. Into the box I went again and
pulled out a female. All that could be heard was silence, and some coughing. Was it that I had the classes
undivided attention or was it that everyone was holding their breathe?
"Now just having two Gambrels quail does not in and of itself prove the existence of the bird in our state,
so I direct your attention to the screen at the front of the class." On the screen appeared pictures of a
covey of Gambrels quail feeding around what was obviously a California road sign." "The covey you see
here was hunted by friends and I shortly after this picture was taken." "The two I have here are all that is
left after a tasty dinner that night."
Silence filled the room after I was done. The scary and mighty Mrs. Blankmind had been set back a notch
by a lowly student. As I packed up the box, and to everyone's relief, set it outside the door, Mrs.
Blankmind began to speak. "Dave, it was not necessary to kill the poor birds just to prove your point?" I
countered with, "Yes, but it was necessary to kill them to have the tasty dinner that night and to have the
specimens here for class." "Besides, how about the butterfly display you have there? Was it necessary to
kill the butterflies?" The rest of class was filled with light hearted banter such as this. I was shocked to
find out that I was the only one to venture forth into the wilds in search of food and knowledge.
I was to interrupt the Professor many times during the weeks ahead with my outdoors knowledge. She
always seemed to like our discussions. She even came out the winner in some of them. At last the class
was coming to an end. The final was going to be mostly on the intricacies of the brain.
As it turned out I was moving to another state that very night and had to rush to the class in the middle
packing the moving truck to take the final. I truly was not able to remember all that I should because of my
worrying about the move. I was the last one to finish the test and turn in my paper. Mrs. Blankmind asked
what was distracting me that night and I told her the reason. She told me though, that she was sure I had
done fine. I left, knowing that I had failed the final.
When I received my grades in the mail a few weeks later. With less than enthusiasm, I opened the
envelope. I was surprised to see I had gotten a "B" in the class. A small note was attached. It read:
"Thank you for your participation in class. And thank you for teaching me that maybe not all hunters are
evil demons. We wont talk about that final you took, anyway it seems that I have lost your grade and can
only surmise what it might have been. Thank You, Mrs. Blankmind!"
Could it be that we had learned from each other? I certainly knew more about the brain than I had wanted
to, and it seemed Mrs. Blankmind had learned something about the outdoors she had not known before.
Adversity had changed us both! And for each, that adversity would not let the other be forgotten.

justkeepfishing.com

Adversity