David Smith David Smith

Carl Akeley Was A Legitimate Badass

The amazing things that Carl Akeley accomplished during his life of adventure will make you wonder why you've never heard of him before.

Carl Akeley

The name Carl Akeley is likely to be unfamiliar to most of us, despite some of the lasting impacts he has made on science and conservation.

Akeley not only made his mark as a successful inventor, biologist, conservationist, author, hunter, sculptor, and nature photographer, but he was also the man responsible for elevating taxidermy to a previously unknown level of realism. He turned a profession into an artform.

A nature lover with diverse interests, Akeley found himself within the circle of friends of another legend, Theodore Roosevelt. More on that relationship in a minute. Akeley was responsible for establishing several nature preserves and national parks, including the first wildlife sanctuary in Africa. He influenced the Hollywood film industry with a motion picture camera he invented. He was also one of the first humans to study mountain gorillas and the first to film them in the wild. He was a master of all his chosen trades, dedicated to science and preservation, and an adventure seeker.

His life was indeed a wild ride. He was stomped into the ground by a raging elephant, used a crocodile carcass as a raft to cross a deadly river, and was charged by three enraged rhinoceros at the same time. Oh, and he killed a revenge-seeking 80-pound leopard with his bare hands.

All in a day's work, right?

"Badass" only hints at the character of Carl Akeley. The man was as close to Superman as a mortal can get. Author Hawthorne Daniel described Akeley as "one of the most remarkable Americans of his time. No man that I know of can equal his amazing versatility."

Carl Akeley - Field Museum.
fieldmuseum.org

In the Beginning

Carl Ethan Akeley was born May 19, 1864 in Clarendon, New York. He was a skinny farm boy who took an obsessive interest in nature and wildlife at an early age. He saw an exhibit in Rochester that sealed his fate: the display contained several dozen stuffed critters by taxidermist David Bruce. He was enamored.

At 18 Akeley apprenticed with Bruce in Brockport, but Bruce quickly recognized his mentee's talent and recommended that Akeley return to Rochester to study under the preeminent taxidermist of his day, Henry Ward, at Ward's Natural Science Establishment.

Ward took the young Akeley on for a measly $3.50 a week, which was next to nothing even back then, with the stipulation that Akeley work from 7:00 am to 6:00 pm, with no sick leave or holidays.

Akeley found the work disappointing and unsatisfying, and he received no formal training working under Ward. He was basically nothing more than a manual laborer for Ward, who didn't care about the kind of realism or artistic expression that interested Akeley. Akeley complained that "the profession which I had chosen as the most satisfying and stimulating to a man's soul was neither scientific nor artistic as it was practiced at Ward's."

Back in those days taxidermy provided the source material for all of those comical 'Bad Taxidermy' photos we see online today. The mounted specimens they produced can generously be described as horrendous, or a thing of nightmares. They bore little resemblance to actual living animals.

Basically, taxidermists stuffed animal skins full of straw or cotton - the 'upholsterer's method' - and roughly formed the body to more closely resemble a pre-adolescent child's drawing of an animal. Your average stuffed animals exhibited buggy eyes, obvious seams and stitching, and awkwardly positioned legs. They were abysmal curiosities and had practically zero educational impact on their audience.

Carl Akeley’s taxidermy. A quantum improvement over what came before.
American Museum of Natural History

Jumbo the Elephant

Ward ultimately fired Akeley for falling asleep on the job. It's little wonder Akeley was tired; his contract stated that he could only work on his own advanced taxidermy skills at night. But Ward later realized that he wouldn't find an employee who worked as hard as Akeley - for as little money - and hired him back. It was during his second round with Ward that Akeley got his big break.

Ward assigned the task of mounting Jumbo, P.T. Barnum's famous elephant, to Akeley and William Critchley. Critchley was a caring and competent taxidermist who took Akeley under his wing. A train accident had killed the prize elephant, and the project took five months to complete. It earned Akeley a certain measure of notoriety.

Akeley also made friends with another fellow taxidermist while at Ward's, one William Morton Wheeler. Wheeler advised Akeley to apply at the Milwaukee Public Museum.

Akeley did just that, and for six years he refined his revolutionary taxidermy method. Milwaukee was where Akeley also developed his idea to show his lifelike animals in their natural settings, a natural complement. He gave his dioramas as much attention and effort as he did the actual creatures he was mounting.

"Muskrat Group" - one of Akeley's early dioramas for the Milwaukee Public Museum.
Wikipedia

After leaving Milwaukee, Akeley did a few years as an independent contractor (doing work for, among others, the Smithsonian Institution). Then, in 1896, he joined the Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago. It was then that his career really took off, and his taxidermy methods truly became astounding.

A Revolutionary Method of Displaying Wildlife

Where others before him had done questionable work literally 'stuffing' animals, Akeley decided that his creatures must educate and inspire the public in ways they had never seen before. He dedicated himself fully. He studied the anatomy and biology of his creations, to the point that he became a legitimate scientist of wildlife biology.

Akeley developed a complicated method of crafting forms around which the animal's skin would be attached. He used clay, wire, and wood, and sometimes even the animal's own skeleton to create forms from which he then molded papier-mâché mannequins. The mannequins showed the animal's musculature and veins, and were posed in extremely natural, lifelike postures.

The forms we see taxidermists use today are a direct result of Akeley's creative genius. Additionally, Akeley developed a method of skinning that hid the seams when the hide was sewn back together over the form, always going the distance to bring life back into the animals that had lost theirs.

Carl Akeley modeling an elephant for Hall of African Mammals in 1914.
AMNH

As mentioned, he put tremendous care into the displays he built, just as he did in his working restoring his subjects. Akeley brought realism to the animals he worked on, so it only made sense that he would bring their environments to life as well. He developed methods to reproduce natural-looking flora, such as grass and leaves, and did so using beeswax, wire, thread, and other materials. He labored tediously to create the natural settings specific to each species where they would be mounted.

Akeley eventually left The Field Museum and began working as the chief taxidermist for the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH) in New York City in 1909.

The AMNH financed Akeley's expeditions to Africa, where he hunted for specimens to fill his dream of a hall of taxidermied African wildlife. He felt that African game was quickly going the way of the dinosaur. Fearing extinction, he wanted to build something that would allow future generations to be able to see those beasts in their natural habitats, before they were all gone.

Akeley began work on his massive project, collecting the animals himself during his African expeditions. Unfortunately, he died before getting the opportunity to finish the project. After his death, his work was continued by others. The AMNH christened it the Akeley Hall of African Mammals. It is a monumental achievement and a legacy to the man rightly called the Father of Modern Taxidermy.

The iconic elephant diorama in the Akeley Hall of African Mammals.
AMNH

At the center of the African hall is a freestanding diorama of eight cow, yearling, and bull elephants, surrounded by 28 habitat dioramas displaying the diverse landscape and wildlife of the continent. Included are ostriches, rhinoceros, giraffes, a pride of lions, warthogs, mountain gorillas, and more, all in their natural habitats. The animals are posed to exhibit behaviors observed in the wild.

Audiences flocked to see Akeley's dioramas and lifelike mounts. It is just as awe-inspiring today as it was when it was fresh and new - a timeless contribution to science.

Akeley's Camera and Cement Gun

While he was busy setting the taxidermy world aflame with productive change, Akeley also finished quite a few other unique projects. He authored articles for National Geographic and wrote several books, including a children's book. He also authored In Brightest Africa, which told of his hunting experiences and getting up close and personal with gorillas.

He also achieved critical artistic acclaim as a sculptor. Several of his pieces are on display in museums today.

With an imaginative mind like Akeley had, it seems only natural that he would also be an inventor. He received more than 30 patents for his inventions, which included the unique and highly adaptable Akeley Motion Picture Camera.

The camera was, like other things Akeley put his hands to, transformative. It had the ability to smoothly pan and tilt, and capture fast action sequences fluidly and seamlessly.

Akeley’s “Pancake Camera.”
The Magnificant Mile

Akeley used his "pancake camera" (so-called because of its shape) to film the first-ever motion pictures of gorillas in the wild, in what is now the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The camera became a favorite of explorers around the world and was employed on countless famous and noteworthy expeditions. It also became the favored camera for World War I correspondents who preferred its light weight and mobility for producing newsreels of the war.

Hollywood also exploited the advantages of the camera, using it in several famed motion pictures, including Nanook of the North (1922), Simba (1928), Frank Capra's Flight (1929), Howard Hughes' Hell's Angels (1930), the chariot races in the 1926 film Ben Hur, and William Wellman's Wings (1927), which won the Academy Award for Best Picture.

It became such an indispensable piece of equipment that scripts actually called for "Akeley shots," signifying that Akeley's camera was the one for the job.

In addition to the camera, Akeley also invented a search light used in WWI and, notably, a tool that sprayed a concrete mixture like a firehose. His "Shotcrete" invention was (and still is) a viable tool to repair and build walls, pools, and other structures. President Teddy Roosevelt actually adapted it for use in building the Panama Canal.

Almost Getting Killed . . . the First Time

It was Africa that truly thrilled Akeley's soul. He made his first expedition in 1896, and it was during this trip that Akeley had an encounter that would make him the subject of adventure magazines and pulp fiction.

Popular Science article, Dec. 1925.

Akeley was out in the Somaliland bush one day, hunting for specimens to bring back to America for mounting. He had little success, but he did shoot a nice warthog. He left the hog where it lay and continued hunting, intending to retrieve it on his way back to camp.

Upon his return to the spot where he shot the warthog, he saw only a spot of blood and drag marks in the dirt where the warthog's carcass should be. Suddenly, he noticed a shadowy blur in the nearby brush. He lifted his rifle and fired. A pain-maddened snarl greeted Akeley.

Accounts of what happened next vary, but ultimately Akeley fired several more times, missing multiple times and finding his mark at least once. But that one time only served to enrage a maddened 80-pound leopard that leaped for Akeley's throat.

Akeley instinctively lifted his right arm to defend himself, and the bloodthirsty cat bit down hard. The scene was a whirlwind of teeth, claws, and desperate human limbs trying to fend off the feline cyclone.

If you've ever tried to hold a house cat that didn't want to be held, you might get a weak idea of what Akeley was going through. He was caught in a life and death struggle with 80 pounds of leopard intent on killing him.

"I felt no pain," Akeley recounted, "but I certainly never thought for a moment that I was going to come out alive. I was rather calm, as a matter of fact, except for a tremendous and wildly pleasant thrill I felt, knowing that I was battling for my life. I remember very clearly thinking of a conversation I once had with a friend when, at the World's Fair at Chicago, we had seen a statue of an Indian fighting a bear, very much as I was fighting this leopard. We wondered if the man felt any pain. 'Well,' I thought, 'I could tell him now. But I won't have a chance'."

While his right arm was being mauled by the leopard, Akeley grabbed the big cat by the throat with his left hand. He desperately tried to strangle the beast and keep the slashing claws from ripping open his belly.

Carl Akeley with the leopard that nearly killed him, 1896.
Rare Historical Photos

This was life or death, and things did not look good for Akeley. There are very few instances where humans have overtaken a beast like a leopard with their bare hands.

But Akeley had the advantage of his free left hand. Plus, this cat didn't know it was trying to devour Carl Ethan Akeley, a man with more grit and determination than your average titan.

"With my left hand at the animal's throat I pushed him down my right arm, for he was chewing all the time," he said. "I dragged my whole arm through his jaws, and finally I got my right fist in his mouth." Akeley shoved his bloody right hand and arm as far down into the spotted buzzsaw's gullet as he could.

"We were both getting weak, and at last we went down," Akeley continue. "Luckily the leopard was underneath, and as we fell my knees struck his chest, and I heard a rib snap."

That was all Akeley needed. "So I jumped up and down on his chest with my knees, while I still had his throat with my left hand, and held my right hand in his mouth. I caved his ribs in, and finally he gave a gasp and released his hold."

Whether through skill, luck, or a combination of the two, Akeley finished the beast off with a knife and made it back to camp. His men pumped his shredded arm full of antiseptics to stave off infection from the cat's many bite marks. They brought the leopard into camp where it was discovered that Akeley had hit it twice with superficial bullet wounds.

Akeley became the subject of several adventure magazines and comics. Please check out Ken’s Corner for some fantastic imagery of Akeley’s encounter as told in comicbook form.
Ken’s Corner

Adventurers around the world thrilled at the photo of a bandaged Akeley standing next to the hanging leopard. Depictions of the attack, some taking more artistic license than Akeley would likely approve of, accompanied magazine articles with overly dramatic headlines.

The photograph is deceiving, as the leopard looks smaller than its 80 pounds. But the grim look on Akeley's face was surely enough to give any of the leopard's feline relatives second thoughts about revenge; he's even tougher than he looks.

Almost Getting Killed . . . the Second Time

The second time Akeley stared death in the face was even more severe than his encounter with the leopard. It happened in 1911, while hunting elephants in the forests of Mount Kenya.

Following a large track with his gun bearer, Akeley heard a rustling behind him and turned. Suddenly a massive, enraged elephant burst through the foliage and bore down on him.

Before he could lift his rifle the beast slammed into Akeley like a battering ram, slicing him across the face with its sandpaper-like trunk. Akeley quickly came to his feet and wiped the blood from his eyes, only to see the maniacal pachyderm bearing down on him with a deadly six-foot long ivory tusk.

Akeley showing his camera to a group of Turkani natives.

Immediately deciding that he'd rather not be a bloody ornament at the end of an elephant tusk, Akeley grabbed the tusk and swung himself in between the two long ivories. The maddened mammoth then used his tonnage to headbutt and drive Akeley straight into the earth, attempting to flatten him like a pancake.

"...I saw a great tusk aimed directly at my chest," Akeley retold the tale. "I grabbed it with my left hand, and grabbed the other tusk with my right, and swinging in between them, I went down on my back."

The force of the blow shattered Akeley's rib cage, and his body looked like a rag doll abused by the Incredible Hulk. Before he lost consciousness, Akeley recalled the elephant's shark-like eye staring back at him with apparent glee that he had pulverized this puny human.

"So there I was between the great tusks," he said, "which he plunged into the ground on both sides of me, with his curled-up trunk against my chest. I have a clear recollection of that instant. I had the sensation of being crushed, and I remember looking up into what seemed to me a very small and wicked eye, just a little above me, and I knew I could expect no mercy from it. And then he gave a sort of wheezy grunt as he plunged down, and that is all I recall."

Akeley following his elephant attack.

The natives believed Akeley was dead. They left him lying in an elephant head-shaped depression for several hours as it rained and turned the shallow pit into a mudhole. Akeley eventually moved, and the surprised natives got him back to camp and then to civilization, where he spent six months convalescing.

Apparently the elephant's tusks had hit a rock while trying to drive Akeley through the earth, which stopped his pile driving effort and probably saved Akeley's life.

More Near-Death Incidents

Elephants and rhinos charged Akeley at least 20 times during his career. One time he was charged by three rhinos from three different directions at the same time. When recounting this incident, he replied simply that rhinos had bad eyesight and were usually more interested in charging than in killing.

Another time a herd of elephants stampeded through his camp, the resulting earthquake causing a scene of pure chaos and some fine gymnastics by Akeley as he rolled out of the way of rumbling pachyderms and falling trees.

Theodore Roosevelt accompanied Akeley on an expedition in 1909. Akeley dedicated his book In Brightest Africa to Roosevelt.

Akeley and his wife Mary, on his final safari, 1926.

Throughout Akeley's career he made five expeditions to the continent. His last was in 1926, where he traveled to the Belgian Congo with his second wife, Mary Jobe Akeley, a noted adventurer in her own right and 20 years Akeley's junior.

It was on this trip that Akeley contracted malaria and dysentery, and ultimately succumbed. He was 62 years old, but had the stamina and carriage of a man in his twenties.

Akeley's expressed his interest in hunting and collecting animal specimens was for purely scientific reasons. He felt it was his duty to try to preserve these creatures for future generations to appreciate, in dioramas showing their natural habitats and behaviors, before they were all gone.

Towards the end of his career, his viewpoint shifted and he started to question the morality of killing the animals he mounted. It was after this perspective change that he threw himself into preservation and conservation work, and as with everything else he did, made lasting impressions in that field.

He advocated for the preservation and protection of many species by convincing world leaders like Roosevelt to establish national parks and wildlife preserves. Akeley persuaded King Albert of Belgium to establish what is now called Virunga National Park. It is a place where his beloved mountain gorillas are protected. Virunga is also Africa's first national park.

Akeley lies where he fell in east Africa, between the volcanos Mikeno and Karisimbi. It took two-dozen porters three days, working in 12-hour shifts, to carve his gravesite in the hard volcanic rock. He lies only a couple miles from where he encountered his first gorilla in 1921.

It was Akeley's last wish. "I want to die in the harness," he told his wife. "I want to be buried in Africa."

Read More
David Smith David Smith

Chicken of the Woods

The other day I found a couple of Chicken of the Woods mushrooms growing down by the boat launch. This is one of my favorite wild muchrooms, maybe my favorite (yes, even more than morels). They usually show up in a sizable quantity, are easy to spot, easy to identify, and have a wonderful meaty texture and outstanding flavor. Since I found these two, I’ve been on a mushroom-eating binge the last few days, eating them pretty much for every meal.

Normally I dry mushrooms for long-term storage, but I decided to freeze these. Have three ziplock bags full of Chicken of the Woods in the freezer now. They are such a beautiful mushroom, I just had to share pictures of them with you here.

Read More
David Smith David Smith

Arbogast Sputterfuss

Today I read Bill Sonnett’s story on the Bass Fishing Archives website, “The Arbogast Sputterfuss.” It’s a great story; Bill’s a good writer and an undisputed expert on vintage fishing lures and tackle. I happen to have a couple of vintage Sputterfuss lures, aka Hawaiian Wigglers. So, after reading Bill’s story I grabbed one of them and hit the lake. It’s a surface lure, but you have to reel mighty fast to keep it on the surface. I honestly don’t know how anglers back in the day cast this lure for more than a short time - the reels were slower back then, so I imagine you’d get pretty tired out reeling those low ratio reels. I was using a new St. Croix rod and an Abu Garcia Revo X reel.

After around 20 minutes of throwing the Sputterfuss I finally got a surface blow-up, and quickly netted the keeper bass in the photo. I was glad I was using a modern rod and reel combo, with a high ratio reel. It’s so cool catching fish on antique baits.

Give Bill’s story a read. It’s good.

Read More
David Smith David Smith

The History of Sportfishing

My friend Terry Battisti has been involved in an exciting project over the last couple years, titled “The History of Sportfishing.” Well, all 12 episodes are now out. Terry has written two 1-hour episodes of the 12. Readers of Bass Fishing Archives will know Terry as the creator and primary writer of that historical archive (it’s one of the places where you can also find my own writing on the subject). He’s also a co-host on the video channel Big Bass Podcast and a frequent guest on the Bass After Dark video show.

The group of individuals who have produced and created The History of Sportfishing is second to none, with a solid track record of award-winning series for television and theater. But you can read all about them and the documentary film series at the History of Sportfishing website, as well as subscribing to or purchasing the series.

Here’s are a couple video snippets from the History of Sportfishing YouTube channel:

I encourage everyone to go the project website and YouTube channel, watch the video snippets, and think about purchasing either individual episodes or subscribing to the entire season. If you love fishing, you’re sure to love this series.

Read More
David Smith David Smith

2024 Antique & Classic Outboard Motor Club Tomahawk National Show

Yesterday I drove up to Tomahawk, Wisconsin and attended the Antique Outboard Motor Club National Show. I saw several beautiful vintage boat and motor displays, and visited all of the booths of vendors selling old outboards, parts, manuals and other paraphernalia. I just love the look of old wood boats and outboard motors. The craftsmanship that went into these objects is unparalleled.

I picked up a couple of old manuals, a 1927 Hunting & Fishing magazine (full of awesome old fishing and hunting ads), a tee-shirt and a hose for my 1956 Mercury outboard. Next year I’m thinking I might buy another old motor or two. Here are a few photos from the show.

Read More
David Smith David Smith

Sea to Summit Camping Cook Pots

Sea to Summit has hit a home run with at least two of their Camp Kitchen line of cooking pots. The Frontier UltraLight Pot 1.3L size, and the Detour Collapsible Pouring Pot 1.8L size. I gave these pots a good workout, cooking several meals or dishes while camping, where they performed very well. But my enthusiasm for them is bolstered by the fact that I continue to use them at home, especially the Frontier UltraLight Pot. That little kettle has become my favorite all around cooking pot, both when out in the field and at home on the stovetop. 

First, the Detour Collapsible Pouring Pot. The clever feature of this pot is that it collapses to less than half its full size, thanks to a rubber center gasket that folds in on itself when the pot is not in use. It works like those collapsible plastic travel cups you probably saw when you were a kid. This is fantastic for camping storage, and Sea to Summit has wisely made full use of this technology by producing more full cooking and dining sets that are collapsible. I plan on changing out most of my camping kitchen gear to these sets. Just thinking of the space I’ll save when packing makes me smile.

But the Detour Pot has more to recommend it than just its compactness. The handle is another big benefit. The handle can be used as a regular pot handle, and then once you’ve finished cooking and are ready to store the pot, the handle can be reversed, locked into place and will securely hold the pot lid in place. They call it a Dual Click-Safe handle. Darn clever. I had no worries about carrying a full pot of soup with the handle locked in place.

The metal portions of the pot are stainless steel, which means that it’s durable and easy to clean. The rubber collapsible gasket is BPA-free and food safe. Honestly, I had my doubts about this pot. The collapsible rubber side in the center of the pot had me wondering how it would take the heat of a camp stove, but cooking was as straightforward as with any other pot, and cleaning up was just as easy. But what I really like is the compact stowaway benefit.

Next, the Frontier UltraLight Pot. This has become my favorite in-home pot. Sure, it performed quite nicely while camping, but I found it to be so serviceable and convenient that I continue to use it in my home kitchen. The 1.3L size is perfect for one person, but Sea to Summit also makes a 2L and 3L size with the exact same features. The 3L pot is on my personal Christmas wish list. 

This is a light-weight anodized aluminum alloy pot with a ceramic non-stick coating that makes for easy clean-up. The Dual Click-Safe handle functions the same as in the Detour Pot, and secures the lid when you’re not using it. I store some small items in the pot itself when camping, and the lid stays tight because of the handle. The inside of the pot has measurements so you can be precise when adding water or broth to a dish, but frankly I never paid any attention to those. 1.3L is a small pot and I had no need for internal measurements. But if I get the 3L pot those might come in handy.

What really sold me on this light-weight little pot, however, are the strainer holes in the lid. Man, that is a great feature. If I’m cooking pasta, boiling eggs, or any other liquid dish where the liquid needs to be drained after cooking, this feature is well appreciated. 

My only complaint is that the top, silicone lid handle could be just a bit larger on both pots. My fat fingers could have used another half inch of handle to grab onto.

Overall, these Sea to Summit cook pots are impressive, and are a welcome addition to my camping kitchen kit (and my home kitchen). Good job, Sea to Summit.

Read More
David Smith David Smith

How to Sniff Out the 'Knife Crazy' Person in Your Life

Do you know someone who is a bit obsessed with knives? Here's a case study of that knife-crazy person in your life.

I’m guessing that a lot of us have at least one knife-crazy person in our family or list of friends. Shoot, you might even be a knife-crazy person yourself. There's no shame in being enamored or even obsessed with edged weapons. There are many other things that folks fixate on and collect that could arguably be worse.

But I do find these folks interesting and their obsession oddly compelling. You see, I have some intimate knowledge of this kind of person. My brother is that knife-crazy person, or as I like to say, a crazy knife person.

Let's face it, these folks can be a little irritating. That's the case with my brother, at least. There's even a word for their affliction. It's called aichmomania, which is an obsession with sharp, pointy things such as knives. My brother would undoubtedly be considered an aichmomaniac. I'm not sure he likes being called one, but that doesn't stop me.

But seriously, there are a few traits that describe the aichmomaniac fairly well. First, they always seem to have a small duffel bag full of knives with them. Whenever my brother comes over for a visit, he's inevitably carrying a small duffel bag. He either sets the bag dramatically on the table as though he's about to unveil something mysterious, or he subtly sets it off to the side, in which case I know he's got some "old" knives that have either been newly sharpened or have new sheaths. It just depends on how quickly he wants to get to the knife demonstration.

Whether it's a new knife or an old one that's been modified, he always has something to show me.

If he has a new one, he's sure to fill me in on every single piece of information regarding its construction. He can go on and on about the most specific details. But even though I tend to glaze over at times, it is interesting. He looks at knives much like I look at different types of fishing line or .308 loads.

Next, he's able to discuss both the pros and cons of different knife sheaths, whether they're kydex, leather or a combination of the two. This is where I perk up a bit. I love a good sheath, and can appreciate both the aesthetic and practical qualities that go into one. I love the combination of form-fitting kydex covered in tooled brown leather.

Source: Peter Kohler - Dark Timber Brotherhood

Next, he performs the paper-cutting demonstration, usually by grabbing whatever paper happens to be within reach. More than likely, it's one of my bills, tax forms or something else important to me. Before I can protest, he'll neatly and slickly slice it into ribbons with a knife he's sharpened to a razor's edge, as if to validate everything he's said up to that point.

"Just look at this baby," he'll say. "Like butter, man, like butter!"

Finally, he'll allow (force) me to hold the knife and, if it's a folder, nag me to open it with one hand in one quick, smooth motion.

"Flick it like you mean it!"

If it's a fixed-blade knife, he demands that I move my hand around on the handle.

"How's that feel?" he'll ask. "Choke up on it and put your thumb on the jimping. Feel the weight and heft of it. You can see how this one would be good for batoning."

"Yes, yes. It would be great for batoning or whittling feather sticks," I'll say, trying to impress him with my experience.

This is the routine we'll go through with every knife in his bag, of which there are usually four or five, including at least one new one.

My brother, the knife-crazy…or crazy knife person.

Of course, my brother has his favorite makers, for both production and custom knives. Peter Kohler's Dark Timber knives are his current favorite, which I'd have to admit I'm quite impressed with myself. You can't help but fall in love with Kohler's beautiful, hand-forged blades.

Finally, you can also identify that knife-crazy person by their Instagram page. Where most folks will display photos of their kids, travels or fishing pics, your knife aficionado will have his page peppered with images of blades. If you know someone who displays any of these traits, there's a good chance they're a legitimate aichmomaniac.

If I'm not careful, I might be headed that way myself. There are worse things a guy could be.

Read More
David Smith David Smith

Creative Sustenance to Stumpjack Outdoors

I’ve begun updating this website/blogsite again in recent months. Creative Sustenance began as a purely foraging/hunting/fishing/cooking blog and image site, with an emphasis on the foraging and cooking. Over the last few years I’ve become more interested in vintage fishing (collecting and using old lures and tackle), as well as expanding this and other platforms to include those interests.

I also get contacted regularly to review outdoors-related products, which I enjoy doing. But I don’t publish my opinions on everything that comes my way because, frankly, some of it doesn’t merit a positive review. And since I don’t get paid to review things (other than receiving the product, which I suppose is some form of compensation) I feel no obligation to any company one way or the other. So, if I do publish a review and share it on my Stumpjack Outdoors Facebook page (50k followers as of this date) you can be sure it’s a product I like and am happy to give a thumbs up to.

We’ve also moved to northern Wisconsin again, which has opened up more outdoors-related opportunities for my wife and I. All of this is to say that Creative Sustenance is changing, changing focus a bit to include other interests like vintage fishing, fishing lure making, leather work, photography and video production. I’ll be changing the name of the site from Creative Sustenance to Stumpjack Outdoors, to connect it thematically to my Facebook page, Instagram account and Youtube channel, all of which are named Stumpjack Outdoors.

So, thanks for following. And please check out my other Stumpjack Outdoors platforms:
* Stumpjack Outdoors facebook page.
* Stumpjack Outdoors instagram account.
* Stumpjack Outdoors youtube channel.

Read More
David Smith David Smith

'The Greatest Gun Designer in the World' - The Remington Model 12 and John D. Pedersen

The beautiful plinker and small-game rifle was engineered by a man John Browning deemed the best to ever design a gun.

"Long time ago, when I was 11 years old, there used to be a park in Kansas City called Fairyland Park," one person recalled on a shooting forum. "It had a wood roller coaster and all the other rides. Tucked into one corner was a shooting gallery.”

"The guns were Winchester pump .22s cabled to the counter, and for, I think, 25 cents you would be given a rifle with 15 .22 Shorts to shoot at all the moving targets. You even reloaded them yourself. They had the ducks, the pipes, the stars, the cowboys, everything you've ever seen in movies and old cartoons. It was the most fun I ever had."

It would be fair to say that the success of the Winchester Model 1890 directly influenced the development of the Remington Model 12.

Eager to get a piece of the sales that the 1890 was earning—almost 850,000 units sold from 1890 to 1941—Remington enlisted the aid of John Douglas Pedersen to design a similar pump-action rimfire rifle.

Pedersen and the military

Pederson was a gun-designing contemporary of famed firearm designer John Browning. But Browning mistakenly thought Pedersen would be better remembered than himself.

In fact, Browning told U.S. Army Major General and noted firearms expert Julian S. Hatcher that Pedersen "was the greatest gun designer in the world." Browning's assessment of Pedersen may have turned out to be true had fate not intervened to deal Pedersen some serious spotlight-stealing blows.

John D. Pedersen

However, Pedersen is remembered for a few highly noteworthy firearms innovations and designs. His attempts to gain military contracts for his gun designs were marred mostly by bad timing and bad luck.

For example, his .45 pistol design was approved by the U.S. Navy but it ultimately lost out to the M1911 pistol already being manufactured for the Army. His semi-auto rifle design also lost out to the now iconic Garand rifle.

His Pedersen Device was perhaps his most ambitious design and could have made a significant impact during WWI. It was an invention attached to a M1903 Springfield bolt-action rifle that allowed the rifle to operate as a semi-automatic. Unfortunately for Pedersen, the device was approved for production just as the war was ending.

But as something of a moral victory, General George S. Patton owned one of Pedersen's pistols, the Remington Model 51. Patton was thought to have favored the pistol as his personal sidearm and it can be seen in many photographs of the General.

Pedersen also attempted to mass produce M1 carbines for the military during WWII, via his own company, the Irwin-Pedersen Arms Company, but that endeavor also failed.

Civilian market

Pedersen actually collaborated with Browning, when Browning made the principle design for the Remington Model 17 pump-action shotgun. Pedersen altered Browning's design before production by the Remington Arms Company in 1921. The 20-gauge shotgun featured a tubular magazine, bottom-loading and bottom-ejecting portals, and it was hammerless. The Model 17 later became the Remington Model 31, Ithaca 37 and Browning BPS, all very successful shotguns in the civilian market.

Pedersen either designed directly or had a hand in just about every firearm that Remington produced from 1903 to 1940. He was prolific, earning at least 69 patents for his firearms designs. These included the Model 12, 14, and 25 pump-action rifles, and the Model 10 pump-action shotgun.

It could also be fairly said that Pedersen had an indirect hand in the design of the famous Remington 870 pump-action shotgun, in that several of his design elements are present in that famous gun.

Remington Model 12

Pedersen died of a heart attack in 1951 while traveling through Cottonwood, Arizona. He was 70 years old.

Over the course of his career, Pedersen designed many firearms that were popular with hunters and shooting enthusiasts. His designs were lauded for their workmanship and efficiency, although they were sometimes criticized for being more mechanically complicated than they needed to be. Today, his guns are highly regarded by collectors and shooters.

The Model 12 Remington

While the Model 12 design was undoubtedly influenced by the Winchester 1890, Pedersen engineered it to have a much sleeker, less clunky appearance. It's a trim, more modern-looking long rifle than the 1890, but with enough antique features that make it beautifully distinctive compared to today's rimfire rifles.

Winchester Model 1890

Remington Model 12

For one thing, the Model 12 dispenses with the exposed hammer of the 1890. Featuring an internal-hammer receiver, the rifle looks sleek and efficient. This profile undoubtedly appealed to shooters, and Winchester eventually began producing pump-action rimfire rifles replicating the internal-hammer design.

The Winchester Model 61 .22 WRF was released in 1932 and appears to be, with a few notable exceptions, almost a carbon copy of Remington's Model 12.

Remington Model 12 (top)
Winchester Model 61 (bottom)

Another identifying component of the rifle is the unique teardrop-shaped ejection port on the right side of the receiver. Chambered for .22 Short and .22 LR, the cartridges are loaded in an under-barrel magazine tube.

Interestingly, the forestock is attached directly to the magazine tube, unlike in other slide-action guns where the magazine remains stationary and separate from the forestock.

Both the Model 12 and the 1890 have a straight grip stock, but the comb on the 1890 is less pronounced on the model 12. The metal butt plate is also gently concave, lending a cool, old-timey appearance to the gun.

But the feature I love the most on this Remington rifle is its octagon barrel. Nothing says vintage long gun to me quite like an octagon barrel.

The safety is located at the right rear of the trigger guard. There is also a small button at the top inside of the trigger guard that can be depressed to release the pump should it become locked in place.

The rifle can be broken down into two parts by removing a screw knob on the left side of the receiver, for ease of transporting or cleaning.

Remington issued a number of variations—Model 12A, Model 12B, Model 12C and so on—that differed in barrel length and ammunition caliber variations, had round barrels and pistol grip stocks, as well as a few customizable features. As you went up in the alphabet—model 12D, 12E and 12F—you could special order one of the pump rifles with higher quality wood, gold or silver inlays and deluxe embellishments, such as special front and rear sights.

I've looked at several lists of the various models and their corresponding features and none of those lists exactly matches the others, so until I can find an actual record from the Remington Arms Company specifically outlining what each variation entailed, I can't say for sure what exactly is what.

I’m pretty sure my rifle is either a 12A, 12B or 12C, probably a Remington 12A standard model, although there's some uncertainty regarding that. According to its serial number, I believe it was manufactured in 1913.

Remington Model 12 (top)
Winchester Model 61 (bottom)

All good things must come to an end

The Remington Model 12 was discontinued in 1936. The sleek little rifle saw impressive sales from 1909 to 1936, with more than 830,000 units coming out of the factory. The Model 12 was replaced by the Remington Model 121 Fieldmaster, a beefier pump-action .22.

The Fieldmaster was designed by C.C. Loomis and G.H. Garrison, though it clearly recalled some of John Pedersen's influence. The Model 121 was produced up until 1954, selling nearly 200,000 units.

Carrying and plinking

I love to carry this light, easy-shooting rifle. It's almost as light as carrying a heavy revolver. I haven't shot it much, to be honest. For small-game hunting I prefer to use my Marlin Golden 39A .22 lever-action. Mostly I just like looking at it and holding that old Model 12. But when I do feel like taking it out, maybe once a year, I'll load it with .22 Shorts and do a little imaginary carnival plinking at soup cans, bottle caps and plastic dinosaur toys. It's surprisingly accurate, given its age and barrel wear.

But most importantly, it takes me back to a time I imagine was simpler...a time where you could have a lot of fun for only a quarter.

Read More
David Smith David Smith

I Tried Incubating and Hatching Snapping Turtle Eggs. Here's What Happened.

After deciding to rescue a clutch of snapping turtle eggs from persistent predators, this is what happened as I tried to incubate and hatch the tiny terrapins.

I've long been fascinated by and attracted to snapping turtles. They are possibly my favorite wild critter. They're ornery, individualistic, secretive, prehistoric, and very delicious. And they just look cool. No matter what their age or sex, they always strike me as the wizened, grumpy old men of the lake or pond. So when we found a big female snapper laying her eggs in the yard earlier this spring, I was excited for the prospect of eventually witnessing lots of tiny snapping turtles scurrying back down to the lake.

The mother snapper dug the hole and laid her eggs on June 12. Snapping turtle eggs normally incubate for around 90 days, but they can, depending on the average temperature during that time, hatch anywhere from 80 to 120 days after being laid. In rare cases I understand that they can also overwinter and hatch the following spring.

I kept an eye on the spot throughout the summer, hoping that no hungry predator would dig up the nest and devour the eggs. Approximately 90% of all turtle egg clutches are lost to predators such as skunks. And of course, many turtles are also killed on roads during their spring egg laying period.  

I began to pay closer attention to the nest area as we approached the 8o day mark, checking the site at least twice a day. Then, around day 85, I went out one morning and saw that a raccoon had tried to dig up the clutch. Its prints were all over the place and a hole was dug that fortunately missed the nest by mere inches. I covered the hole the raccoon had dug and kept my fingers crossed. But the next morning when I went out I discovered that a skunk had done the very same thing. His identifying scat was outside of the hole he had dug, but he too had just missed the clutch, though only by an inch or two.

Now I was worried. I figured that if these nocturnal predators were determined to keep attacking the area where the eggs were hiding it would only be a matter of time—perhaps a night or two—before they hit pay dirt and consumed all of the soon-to-be-hatched little snappers.

I was desperate and decided to take matters into my own hands. I dug up the nest. Understanding that turtle eggs are very delicate once they begin to develop, and are sensitive to their positioning, I carefully brushed the dirt away from the eggs and marked the top of each egg with a Sharpie as I pulled it out and set it in precisely the same position in a large bowl full of sand that came directly from the nest area.

Then I covered the bowl of turtle eggs with sand and brought it into the house. I reburied fortysix eggs in all. But before I covered it I took a single egg and tried to candle it. I held a strong flashlight up to it in our darkened bathroom, but could see nothing. As I prepared to replace it I must have squeezed it a little too hard and it suddenly burst open. Inside was a small turtle still attached to its yolk sac.

It was alive, though it moved very slowly indeed. I knew that the rest of the eggs were close to hatching, and could only hope that my handling them had not upset their delicate biology. Several days went by and nothing happened. No turtles hatched and crawled out of the sand. I was worried that bringing them into the house had mucked things up.

Then one morning—day 92 of the incubation—my wife called me into the living room. She pointed to the corner of the room and there was a small turtle looking up at us. It was covered in sand and was several feet from the bowl on the table. She said that she checked the bowl and saw a small depression in the sand and a tiny pencil trail running across the surface of the sand. During the night the little turtle had hatched, crawled out and off of the table and fallen to the carpeted floor. We were lucky we found it. I added the little terrapin to a bowl where I had its first sibling.

That second turtle would be the only one that hatched for several more days. I decided to brush away the sand from the upper layer of eggs in the bowl (I have to admit, I was getting impatient). I watched them closely, and waited...and waited...and waited. I had always thought that turtles hatched together or within a very short period of time from one to the other. These eggs were certainly taking their time.

Finally, around day 96, more turtles began to break from their shells. It was an extremely slow process, as they would crack the shells with a tiny "hen's tooth" that was visible just under the tip of their snouts. Then they would seem to tire and would slowly poke their heads from the shells, before ever so slowly emerging. This process could take hours.

The turtles would continue to hatch over the next several days. But unfortunately not all of the eggs were viable. Many began to collapse upon themselves, appearing indented. These I gently cut open to find that no turtle was in them at all (only a yolk) or the turtle was small and deformed.

Sometimes the deformed turtle would be alive, but only briefly before it expired.

One time two baby turtles hatched at around the same time, both appearing quite strong. I placed them in a bowl with a little water. I came back to check on them a few hours later only to find one of the two on its back and apparently drowned.

I removed it from the bowl and checked it carefully for any signs of life. It moved! I was heartened and hoped that it would recover, so I placed it in a bowl with only a damp bottom, and checked it several times a day. It seemed to recover but appeared to have some sort of nerve damage, as occasionally it would become listless and appeared to be dying again. This went on for about a week, until finally it succumbed to its injuries and died.

I kept the turtle eggs until around 102 or 103 days, when there were only about six left and nothing had happened with them for a few days. I assumed that most of them were not viable, so I gently cut them open. All but two were undeveloped yolks, with two that were still viable and alive. I peeled away the clear membrane and placed them in a bowl, being sure to keep them upright and on top of their attached yolk sac. They ultimately survived and joined the rest of their siblings in a large bowl where I had placed everyone.

I kept the baby turtles for a few days, until they had each absorbed their attached yolk sacs and it appeared that they were all going to survive and be in good shape. I fed them some commercial turtle food, but they didn't appear to be interested in the food at all. From the time of the first turtle egg hatch on day 85 until the final egg hatch at around day 103, both of which were "forced" hatchings, it took 18 days for the entire clutch of eggs to hatch, or at least those that would hatch.

This surprised me, and I wonder what, if any, impact my digging them up had on the incubation period.

Of the 46 eggs recovered, more than a third of them hatched and survived into healthy, viable baby turtles. Around a third of them were completely undeveloped eggs with no sign of embryonic development, and slightly less than a third were deformed and died shortly after hatching. I don't know if this is a typical survival percentage for snapping turtles or not. My gut tells me it's not, but I don't know for sure.

What I am fairly certain of is that none of the turtles would have hatched had I not secured them from the nest and allowed them to hatch in relative safety. The clutch was being targeted by predators for two straight nights and it seemed highly unlikely that they would last long with that kind of predatory attention being paid to them.

Here's a video and some photos of the release of the baby turtles.

I took 18 baby turtles down to the lakeshore and released 15 of them into the shallow, weedy water. I kept three and they seem to be doing fine up to now. I'll likely keep them through the winter and then release them come spring of next year if they're still alive. It was a great, enlightening experience, and I like to think I did a small part in ensuring that a few more snapping turtles made it into the wild.

Read More