Bear Grease - Ep. 139: THIS COUNTRY LIFE - Kids and the Outdoors (Part 1)

Episode Date: August 25, 2023

It’s all about kids and getting them out of the house this week. In Part 1 of “Kids and Outdoors”, Brent shares some simple recipes for what he calls, “Getting the youngins off the couch and out of the house”. It’s easy to do and fun for everyone. He’s also going to tell you a story about his son’s first deer from 20 years ago that defies any explanation. You’ll want to be sure and listen to the end where he quotes his 11-year-old daughter, Bailee, who gives the best reason of all for getting the kids outdoors. Connect with Brent and MeatEater MeatEater on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and Youtube Shop Bear Grease MerchSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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Welcome to This Country Life. I'm your host Brent Reeves. From Coon Hunting to Trotlining and just general country living, I want you to stay a while as I share my stories and country skills that will help you beat the system. This Country Life is proudly presented as part of Meat Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you the best outdoor podcast the Airways have to offer. All right, friends, pull you up a chair or drop that tailgate. I think I've got a thing or two to teach you.

Kids and Outdoors Summer's coming to an end and just about all the kids are back in school. I know it's a relief for some, but with my 11-year-old Bailey back in the schoolhouse, I am fresh out of folks to play with during the day. It got me to think about all the stuff we've done over the summer and that brought back memories of what I used to do with my family.

We're going to be talking about the kids in the outdoors, but first, I'm going to tell you a story. My son, Hunter, was six years old, and it was gunned deer season in Arkansas. We've been practicing his shooting with a youth model single barrel 243, and he'd become very proficient and safe using the scope, holding steady aim, thumb-cocking the hammerback, and keeping his finger off the trigger until he was ready to shoot. Safety, safety, safety.

It was our constant mantra, and he dry-fired that rifle 100 times before he ever squeezed the trigger on a live round. With hearing protection in place, he watched me shoot several rounds, and I'd explain to him beforehand that it was going to be loud, and he knew what to expect when it came his turn, and he never missed a beat. I was confident in his abilities out to about 80 yards,

but we'd drawn the line at somewhere around 50, just to be on the safe side. The night before the season opened, we'd all gathered at the B&R deer camp for our ritual, supper. We had a fire going outside and everyone gathered in a circle laughing and talking and anticipating the hunt that was kicking off in the morning. Big folks and little folks alike. Hunting season was here and we were all excited and none more so than the kids and Hunter was one of them. It was his first time staying at the camp and it was his first time being a trigger man.

And he couldn't wait or stop talking about it or anything else. That boy has never been shy about talking. He loved to talk, and I've said it a hundred times when he was little and couldn't think of anything to say. He'd just pick up a stick and whoop it on something and holler just to make some racket. We'd like to have never got him to be quiet when it came bedtime. But he wasn't the only one talking when we cut the lanterns out. My brother Tim, his brother-in-law Joe, who we all counted as a bonus brother,

Tim's boys, Matthew and Will, and Joe's son Daniel were all making their share of racket when it seemed like we'd never get to sleep. Joe's alarm clock was going off and waking us all up. Opening day. Somebody stoked that fire. It's freezing in here. I'll tell you all about the deer camp we built out of rough oak lumber, a hammer, a square, and a chainsaw, but that's a story for another day.

There was no electricity, and we heat. it with a barrel stove and cooked on an old gas stove. Joe had a couple of lanterns going and he was making breakfast and Tim was putting wood on the fire while the rest of us got ready. Hunter couldn't get dressed fast enough. He was excited and talking up a storm already. I did not see a change in that coming anytime soon. I'd already figured that we were more or less going deer looking instead of deer hunting and that was okay with me. however long he wanted to be there was how long we were going to stay.

And I might coax him into staying a little past the golden hour of the morning if he wanted to leave early, but I decided that I wasn't going to make him stay any longer that was fun for him. After all, when it stopped being fun for him, it wasn't going to be fun for me neither. We parked my truck at Tim's house and walked by flashlight and not silence to the Widowmaker. A big plywood box stand that sat on four cross ties overlooking an old patch that we'd planted for deer about three quarters of an acre in size. The stand had a short tin roof and camo netting draped over the open areas above the four-foot walls. Joe or Tim One had put an old easy chair in there that was perfect for sitting and resting your rifle on top of that wall. Unless you were about the height of hunter at age six, his legs barely.

to reach from his butt to the ground, so he was sitting in my lap, talking up a storm, and waiting on daylight, which wasn't that far away. It was cold, but I had hunter bundled up and looking like the Michelin man. His rifle was broke open and propped up in the corner. I had the shells in my pocket, and my job was to help him look for deer, load and hand him the rifle when it came time if it came time. I remember the sun coming up and a decent frost on the ground and the camo curtains that hung over the windows. We talked about. about how you could see our breath when we talked and we smoked imaginary cigars, taking puffs from limbs I'd broke off the tree behind us and blowing imaginary smoking the air like a freight

train. Time had passed quickly and we were laughing, giggling and talking and making more racket than the chicken house when hunter whispered, Daddy, there's a spike. Well, I'll be a dang sure was, and he was standing broadside right in front of the stand closer than we'd practiced. How that Joker got there without me knowing, or more importantly, without us scaring him off, it's still a mystery to me. But there he stood, and Hunter had gone from bumping his gums to a laser focus watching that deer. I'm not sure he ever blinked. I eased forward and grabbed his rifle, loaded it, placed it on top of the wall.

The barrel was poking out far enough that it wouldn't be loud in the stand, but I had his earmuffs on his head anyway, just like we'd practiced. He had a tough time finding him in scope at first due to his excitement, and because he was so close, finally he said I seen. I told him whenever he felt comfortable, to cock the hammer, wait for his crosshairs to settle like we'd practiced, then put his finger on the trigger,

remembered to breathe, and give it a squeeze. It was like waiting on water to boil. That spike was slowly feeding the low, along the middle of the food plotting heat, and he wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere, and Hunter wasn't in a hurry to pull the trigger. It was a beautiful morning. It was cold, crisp, zero wind, the birds were singing, and that deer was so close I could hear him biting off the green oats he was munching on.

I could also feel Hunter's heart beating in his chest with the rhythm of a singer's sober machine. And when I thought I was going to pass out with anticipation, bam he pulled the trigger that deer dropped into his tracks and never flinched all the hugging and high-fiving started and we got our plundered together and more or less bailed out of that widowmaker to go look at his deer he'd practiced and practiced he'd learned everything he could about being safe proper shot placement and then demonstrated it when it came time to do so i was proud of him and he was proud too We looked at that deer And we said a little prayer of thanks That was something that we'd started that day And continue now

It was the end of an incredible morning of firsts Or so we thought We walked back to Tim's house And got his four-wheeler And went and got the deer He grabbed a leg And helped me as much as a six-year-old boy can Load his prize on the rack

We got back to Tim's house he was waiting for us and so was my dad. Tim heard Hunter shoot and had come off the stand to see what he did. My dad wasn't hunting. He was just there waiting on everybody to come out of the woods to see what they got, especially the kids. Tim went back in the house and brought out his video camera. And if he hadn't, I'm not sure I could even tell the rest of this story.

But Tim starts recording and Hunter starts telling the story, beginning pretty much from the dawn of time and leading up to where we all found ourselves at that moment. Tim, me, and dad, standing shoulder to shoulder, watching and listening to the longest story that has ever been told on camera. It was like the script reading for the Ten Commandments. There was a lot to get through. At one point during Hunter's defense of his doctoral presentation, I heard my brother say, come on, man, like dadgum, breakfast is getting cold. And then my dad said, look at that deer. Hunter looked over at the one he was standing beside,

but we were looking at a yearling doe that was behind Hunter bounding about 60 yards away at the edge of Tim's yard next to the woods. Tim raised the camera and followed that doe. She made a big loop around the yard and circled back toward the house and where we were standing and then turned and headed right toward us. Nobody moved. Nobody said a word. There was three feet between where we stood,

looking at hunter and where he stood beside the four-wheeler with his dead deer facing us. That dough split the difference between us and jumped higher than hunter stood, kicked like a bucking horse, hit the ground, and loped back into the woods from whence it came. Nobody but hunter said a word when it happened, but you can hear him on the tape as that deer was in mid-air say, whoa, about as nonchalant as I just did. It was absolutely hilarious. One of the most outrageous things I've ever witnessed, and I've seen some crazy stuff.

I have no explanation for it, but it remains a special memory nonetheless. One I shared with my late father, my brother, and my son. All because we were outdoors, and that's just how that happened. Last spring, Clay Newcomb and I collaborated with Jason Phelps at Phelps Game Calls

and building each of our own favorite turkey diaphragms called prime cuts. Now, I'm going to tell you, I love mine because it's easy to use. I'm not going to go, I'm not going to win a turkey calling contest. It's just not going to happen. But when I run this call, I get the sounds that gobblers are looking for. I have a great turkey hunting track record. If you go listen to real turkeys out in the woods, they're not going to win calling contests, right? That's who I listen to.

I can make those sounds on my cut. I also hunt with Phelps's cut, and I hunt with Clay's cut because they're all three great cuts. Check out Prime Cuts at Phelps Game Calls.com. I think you'll be glad you did, and you'll find out that the Steve Ronella cut is an easy-to-use cut for beginning callers who just want to start making good turkey noises and getting action. Kids and outdoors. Kids and outdoors is like biscuits and gravy. It's hard for me to think about one without thinking about the other. And growing up, if you had time to hang around the house,

somebody, namely my mama, would find something for me to do that wasn't nearly as fun or treacherous as the things I could come up with on my own. So when the opportunity arose, either by finishing my chores or climbing out the window, I was gone. Deuces, I'll see y'all at suppertime and deal with whatever fate awaits me then. but right now, I got to go.

Now, where I was escaping to wasn't town or most times not even any of my friends. I didn't have any that lived very close. Besides, I had a dog, a horse, a bicycle, a pair of shoes that I wore sometimes, and my playground was only limited by how far I felt like walking or riding that day. But times have changed, and a childhood like mine, for the most part, has faded away. I couldn't imagine not knowing where my kids or grandkids were like when I was a kid. My parents weren't neglected me.

They knew I was safe wherever I was. The times they were just simply different then. So, guess what? It's up to us to get those little tax deductions of hours off the couch, out from in front of whatever hypnotizing screen that they're staring at and into nature. All these grown-ups that fight against everything, everything we all hold so dear were once impressionable children, and I wonder if those folks had grown up like I had and like those I grew up with,

would they still have the same thoughts and ideas? Let me say this. I'm a steadfast believer in choosing your own path and doing what trips your trigger, but it's hard for me to understand the way some folks think about how we should interact with nature. My wife, Alexis, the quintessential city girl, who before we met had no preconceived ideas or beliefs about hunting and fishing. She didn't grow up around it and had no exposure. It's a testament to her parents, my mother and father-in-law, both of whom I love is my own, each had minimal exposure to those past times in their lives as well.

But through common sense, they know that we are stewards of nature, and while they're the they each choose to abstain from participating in the legal taking of any type of game, they understand that it's necessary for the overall good of the nature and fully support my efforts. Alexis is the same way. She doesn't care one thing about doing it, but loves to see the joy I get from it and fully supports our daughter's participation because Bailey, she likes it too. That's fine with me and Bailey. that's three last folks we have to beat to our favorite hunting spots.

The first thing you need to remember when taking the little folks is to try and see what they're seeing and how they see it. Darkness is especially concerning to most kids and a few adults I know, but reassuring them if your activities occur at night is a big plus. I remember a coyote hunting with my dad, and we weren't hunting them to shoot as much as we were letting the dogs run them. And if you're unfamiliar with this practice, allow me to give you a brief description.

My dad had a pack a running Walker foxhounds. They look just like their cousins, the tree and walker, which is what my dog Whalen is. Anyway, they usually have a leaner build because speed is their game. And they don't have the tree instinct, which is to bark along while trailing the center of a coon until the hound finds which trees climbed and sets into treeing. And it's usually a totally different kind of barking.

We'll get to that in the future when they'll get to that in the future when the weather cools off, and we start talking about treeing walkers, but running walkers would rather run the scent of a game, trailing it over the countryside or through the woods, barking as they went, which sounds exactly like a bunch of dogs barking to folks that don't get the allure, but to those that do, it's a literal symphony of sound, and my dad was considered a maestro of the sport. Coyotes are most active at night, so when the weather allowed,

we'd be down on the potlatch timber company roads looking for sign where they'd either crossed or left their calling card in the middle of the road in the form of a well-digested sample from last night's supper. With fresh sign, we'd cut the dogs loose and the race would be on. Then it could go on for a few hours, and my dad would name each hound as it barked in his position in the race while we sat or laid down on top of the dog box. Sometimes it was cold and we'd build a fire Sometimes other folks would hunt with us and bring their dogs And that was it

That is coyote hunting Now what filled the gaps when the dogs went out of here And they lost the trail of the coyote Was conversations about everything in the world He'd let me have a flashlight to keep the boogers away And we'd lay back and look at the stars We'd walk up and down the gravel road With me running the light

and looking at tracks and bugs, and he'd hand me a rock and bet I couldn't chunk it and hit something. What he was doing was keeping me entertained and allowing me to participate in a fun way while spending time with him and doing something that he liked to do too. Those times are burned into my memory,

and not just hunting and fishing memories, cutting firewood, having the horse shot, and taking me to work and letting me help him. It was all about the time spent together, and not the activity. I can say with 100% certainty that my endearment towards showing youngans

how much fun can be had without electricity just by looking at the natural stuff around them is because he took the time to show me and so did my brother Tim. A lot of hunting requires stealth and quiet. Two things most kids ain't real good at. So when we include them, we need to think about an activity

that they can do well. Sometimes they're just like that old coon hound pup you're training. You need to find them an easy coon to tree. So you stack the deck in your pup's favor and catch a coon in a live trap and release it for him to see and then put him on the scent and watch him do his thing. It gives him confidence and with praise he'll want to do it again. Same way with kids.

Pick an activity they can win at. Digging worms for fishing bait or how to build a fire and cook a hot dog and if they're responsible enough how to care for and sharpen a good pocket knife now you know what kind but in case you don't remember you should go back to episode one and review i figure if you're still listening you might as well give them a good knife to start with now squirrel hunting with dogs was what i cut my teeth on and that was an activity numero uno at casa day reeves Well, Brent, I ain't got a dog. Ain't got a dog?

Ain't no problem. Take them with you on a sightseeing journey looking for squirrels. You don't even need a gun for that. Make a list of birds to go look for, and then check them off the list as you walk around your neighborhood looking or just sitting in the backyard or just looking out the window. The information available to us to the creatures that inhabit where we live, regardless of where we live, is tremendous.

and there is no excuse for saying you don't know. I don't know about other states, but I would assume they have similar programs like our Arkansas Game and Fish Commission does. We have free admission to nature centers located all over the state with programs and staff with employees whose job is to educate folks of all ages. The displays and activities they host are outstanding.

And if your state doesn't have them, I'm inviting you to ours. We'll be glad to have you. I've got a lot more to talk about on this kids and outdoor subject, so let's make this part one. In part two, I'm going to share some more stories, but I'm also going to give you some information that you can share with your schools

that have a host of great programs to get the kids out of the house and into the outdoors. There's facts and figures in there that are eye-opening. At least they work for me. You ain't going to want to miss it. And until next week, I'm going to leave you with this. I was taking Bailey to school this morning, and I asked her about why she liked to go out in the woods with me,

whether we were hunting, fishing, or just knocking around. Just getting some info for this podcast. She said, I like it when we get a deer and we skin it and cut the meat up to eat. I like to help with that. I like when we go coon hunting with whaling, and I get to drive the side by side and look for the coon that Whalen's barking at?

I like it when we fish. I like to help you cook them, and then we get to eat them. Well, I ask her about the times that we were just messing around the woods, what she liked about that, and she said, I just like being with you,

Dad, and learning stuff. So then I asked her one last question before she hopped out of the truck and that big old school swallowed my baby like a grape. I said, have you got any advice for grown-ups or kids that might

I'd like to start trying to do the things that we do all the time. And she put some thought into it and she looked at me and said, it doesn't have to be perfect. You don't have to get a deer or catch a fish. Just make memories. And with that, she gave me some sugar and hopped out the door. That's pretty good. Thank y'all so much for listening.

I sincerely appreciate all the wonderful feedback we've been receiving and hope you folks will continue to review and share this country life with others you think might enjoy it. This is Brent Reeves, signing off. Y'all be careful. On Blood Trails, the stories don't end when the hunt is over. They just get darker. I've seen something in the road. I instantly thought it was a sleeping bed and there was a full of blood.

Oh my God, he doesn't have a hit. Blood Trails is a true crime podcast born in the outdoors. Where the terrain is unforgiving, the evidence is scarce, and the truth gets buried under brush and silence. Indications were he should be right there, but he wasn't. This season, we're going deeper. From cold case files to whispered suspicions, from remote mountains to frozen backwoods. Each story begins in the wilderness and ends in darkness. Because out here, there are no witnesses, no cameras, just fragments and the people left behind.

trying to piece them back together. He's not an honest person. He's incapable of being honest. Somebody somewhere knows something. I'm Jordan Sillers. Season 2 of Blood Trails premieres April 16th. Follow now on Apple, Iheart, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts.