Speaker 1: Welcome to This Country Life. I'm your host, Brent Reeves
Speaker 1: from coon hunting to trotlining and just general country living.
Speaker 1: I want you to stay a while as I share
Speaker 1: my experiences in life lessons. This Country Life is presented
Speaker 1: by Case Knives from the store More Studio on Meat
Speaker 1: Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you the best outdoor podcast that
Speaker 1: airways have to offer. All right, friends, grab a chair
Speaker 1: or drop that tailgate. I've got some stories to share.
Speaker 1: Coon Claude Jake and Philip Worm. We're living off the
Speaker 1: land this week, two similarly themed stories that highlight the
Speaker 1: willingness to make a go of it in the wild,
Speaker 1: one of them for a few days, in the other
Speaker 1: for a lifetime. I think you'll like them both. Join
Speaker 1: me at the fire. Let's get started. This story comes
Speaker 1: from This Country Life listener Jacob Clark. Jacob's a fellow
Speaker 1: Arkansas native and making tracks with his family up around
Speaker 1: ash Flat, the sole county seat of government in Sharp
Speaker 1: County since nineteen sixty seven, with a portion of it
Speaker 1: poking over into Fulton County. It is one of eighteen
Speaker 1: cities to reside in more than one county. I learned
Speaker 1: that today anyway, Jacob shared the following, and here it is.
Speaker 1: I grew up with a deep love and respect for
Speaker 1: the outdoors, particularly those arcs. My forefathers hunted and trapped
Speaker 1: to feed their families. Lucky for me, my father could
Speaker 1: afford a few extra groceries to go with our deer meet.
Speaker 1: Over the years, we still needed to meet and often
Speaker 1: hunted justice up on protein in the freezer. But I
Speaker 1: was blessed to grow up with a different perspective than
Speaker 1: my grandfather's, which was surviving. I was just able to
Speaker 1: enjoy the many aspects of hunting and enjoy it all
Speaker 1: with my father, my grandpa, and my uncles. Many years ago,
Speaker 1: some friends from up north came down to hunt with
Speaker 1: my dad and I. I was twelve. One of them,
Speaker 1: Eper was his nickname. He was a bona fide north
Speaker 1: Woods trapper. He took me under his wing and told
Speaker 1: the wildest trap line stories. I had used dog proof
Speaker 1: traps before on the farm, but never anything like what
Speaker 1: youper talked about. In that fall, I dug out some
Speaker 1: old night of Victor, wanting to half cold springs that
Speaker 1: belonged to my great grandfather, and I started trapping. Fast
Speaker 1: forward about two years and I was running my own
Speaker 1: trap life. Being homeschooled allowed me some flexibility with my schedule.
Speaker 1: I was getting up at daylight, walking a mile to
Speaker 1: the Strawberry River and running a dozen or so set
Speaker 1: targeting red fox. We also had a four hundred acre
Speaker 1: farm in southern Missouri that my grandpa built a cabin on.
Speaker 1: I wanted to go trap on that farm so bat
Speaker 1: and finally he let me do it. The plan was
Speaker 1: fool proof. My dad would drop me off after church
Speaker 1: on Sunday morning and come get me before church Wednesday afternoon.
Speaker 1: I had three cold mornings to catch as many coons
Speaker 1: and cowoats as possible, and we lived about two hours
Speaker 1: from the farm. I didn't have a driver's license, just
Speaker 1: my uncle's old side beside he left there for deer hunt.
Speaker 1: Dad made it clear that I was to keep that
Speaker 1: thing on the farm. I have no idea who preached
Speaker 1: that Sunday or what they preached about. I was mentally
Speaker 1: already in the woods. After church, I went and I
Speaker 1: got a loaf of bread, a gallon of milk, and
Speaker 1: a dozen eggs and some bacon to get me by.
Speaker 1: Plus you had a little deer meat to fry. If
Speaker 1: I wanted to fancy dinner. This was going to be
Speaker 1: awesome easy just three days or so, I thought. That
Speaker 1: Sunday evening I set a few traps, even though I
Speaker 1: didn't have a lot of time before dark, and I
Speaker 1: used the flashlights. At the last one, I had my
Speaker 1: twenty two and my favorite skinning knife. And let me
Speaker 1: tell you, at the Boogeyman so much as sneezed, I
Speaker 1: was sending everything I had in whatever direction he was.
Speaker 1: And once the last one was set, I was skidaddling
Speaker 1: back to the cabin as fast as my legs would go.
Speaker 1: I made eggs and toasting, put on one of my
Speaker 1: favorite John Wayne movies. I was in high cotton. Once
Speaker 1: it came time to go to bed, though, the cabin
Speaker 1: started making making some strange noises that the Boogerman and
Speaker 1: make it back with me. I wasn't sure, but my
Speaker 1: twenty two slip in bed right next to me, just
Speaker 1: in case. Monday morning, I stepped out and took in
Speaker 1: a long breath of fresh Ozark air. That was That
Speaker 1: was it, man, I was. I was pretty much an
Speaker 1: ozark version of bear Claw Chris Lap from Jeremiah Johnson.
Speaker 1: I only caught two coons that day, but I was
Speaker 1: able to set the rest of my traps. I got
Speaker 1: done before lunch, and I went out to cut some
Speaker 1: hickory sticks. That afternoon. A five foot hickory stick sold
Speaker 1: for sixty cents at our local cane factory, and I
Speaker 1: had to save up for a truck, and it was
Speaker 1: a good way to pass the time until dark and
Speaker 1: make a little money while I was doing it. That night,
Speaker 1: it was another simple meal with John Wayne movie in
Speaker 1: lights out. I slept a little better, just a little.
Speaker 1: On Tuesday morning, the trap line yielded nothing. I was discouraged,
Speaker 1: but I persevered. Nonetheless, changed up a couple of my
Speaker 1: dirt hole sets and I cut some more sticks, and
Speaker 1: that afternoon I called my dad to give him an update.
Speaker 1: He encouraged me to continue on and reminded me of
Speaker 1: how blessed I was to be able to get out
Speaker 1: there and do it. So many grown men would have
Speaker 1: given so much to be doing what I was doing.
Speaker 1: It's all about perspective now. Dad informed me that my
Speaker 1: mother and both of my sisters had come down with
Speaker 1: some kind of bug and were pretty sick. I prayed
Speaker 1: for him, and I went on about the day looking
Speaker 1: forward to Mom's cooking the next night. But that night
Speaker 1: it was just another simple meal, another John Wayne movie,
Speaker 1: another day done. The Burgerman never even crossed my mind,
Speaker 1: at least no more than once. Wednesday was my last
Speaker 1: day out in the wild, my last day fending for myself.
Speaker 1: I checked the trapline. I caught three more coons and
Speaker 1: that was it. I got to the end and loafed
Speaker 1: around a while, waiting for the daily call from Dad.
Speaker 1: He called and said, son, the girls are pretty sick.
Speaker 1: I don't feel comfortable leaving them. I'll have to try
Speaker 1: and get up there tomorrow if that's all right. Well,
Speaker 1: of course I was coon clawed J Clark after all.
Speaker 1: Thankfully I didn't pull any of my traps. I reset
Speaker 1: the ones that had coons in them, and I went
Speaker 1: back to the cabin. I had a few pieces of bread,
Speaker 1: a couple of eggs, and a glass or two of
Speaker 1: milk that was left. And after that there was a
Speaker 1: couple of packages of peanut butter crackers and maybe some
Speaker 1: cans of viny sausages in the cabin pantry. I killed
Speaker 1: a couple of squirrels and I had them for supper.
Speaker 1: That night. I went to bed, and I slept pretty good,
Speaker 1: confident that I would be in my own bed the
Speaker 1: following night, Thursday, I got up and I felt well
Speaker 1: rested down some cold water, and I stepped outside to
Speaker 1: relieve myself, and I walked around the corner of the cabin,
Speaker 1: half awake, and ran right smack dab into the Boogerman.
Speaker 1: The neighbor's old dog had wandered over a mile to
Speaker 1: the cabin and thought he was as lone as I
Speaker 1: thought I was. We both jumped about a foot high,
Speaker 1: let out a high pitched yet, and we both went
Speaker 1: our separate ways. I no longer had to pay, and
Speaker 1: I would guess that he probably didn't either. I think
Speaker 1: I'm ready for Dad to come get me. And he
Speaker 1: called and said the girls were still sick and there
Speaker 1: wasn't much hope of being picked up today. I reassured
Speaker 1: him that I was good on groceries and I left
Speaker 1: to go check my sets. I planned to kill another
Speaker 1: couple of squirrels and stretch when I could out until tomorrow.
Speaker 1: And on the very last trap, I couldn't believe my eyes.
Speaker 1: I called an old bobcat, my first one ever in man.
Speaker 1: Was I excited His pelt was worth eighty dollars to
Speaker 1: my local buyer. I couldn't wait to tell everyone about it.
Speaker 1: Made my way back to the cabin in time for lunch,
Speaker 1: only I didn't have much to choose from, and I
Speaker 1: was about to get flat out hungry. I went to
Speaker 1: skinning that bobcat, and right about the time I was done,
Speaker 1: I realized he had some decent sized backstraps, and they
Speaker 1: looked like normal meat. To me, I had some flyer
Speaker 1: and grease left from frying deer. Now he yanked those
Speaker 1: backstraps off that bobcat and I hid it inside. Mama
Speaker 1: taught me how to cook a lot of things, and
Speaker 1: I treated this meat like everything else, A little bit
Speaker 1: of seasoning, a little bit of flyer. Friday on a
Speaker 1: cast iron skille it now. I took a seat at
Speaker 1: the table and dug in, and it was amazing. Who
Speaker 1: would have thought. All I know is I had a
Speaker 1: full belly the rest of the day and went to bed,
Speaker 1: confident that I could do this for as long as
Speaker 1: I needed to. I just didn't want to do it
Speaker 1: much longer. The next day was Friday, and my belly
Speaker 1: was on empty. When I got up, I gathered myself.
Speaker 1: I ate an egg, and I peeked outside to make
Speaker 1: sure no hounds were scavenging around, and I hit the woods.
Speaker 1: Nothing was lighthearted that morning. I was dead serious about
Speaker 1: everything and starting to feel lonely. I'd been gone long
Speaker 1: enough that I wasn't sure Mom and the girls would
Speaker 1: recognize the grizzly looking woodsman they replaced their son and brother.
Speaker 1: Mama had said farewell to her baby boy last Sunday.
Speaker 1: I was a different man. Now. I might as well
Speaker 1: sell all my possessions and head west for the rocky Mountains.
Speaker 1: I was no longer a fourteen year old boy. I
Speaker 1: was a fourteen year old mountain man. Dad called and
Speaker 1: he said the girls were better and he would update
Speaker 1: me after lunch. Hallelujah. That was the best news I
Speaker 1: could have heard at that point. This mountain man was
Speaker 1: ready for Mama's cooking. And I checked the trapline and
Speaker 1: I had another coon. And I couldn't believe it, but
Speaker 1: another bobcat. Only this time I wasn't thinking about the
Speaker 1: eighty dollars in the bragging rights. I was already smelling
Speaker 1: those backstraps being fried up for supper. Dad called that afternoon.
Speaker 1: It wasn't too sure about leaving the girls yet, but
Speaker 1: was also worried about me. Me. I'm doing great now.
Speaker 1: I got my supper a huge boosting morale, and I'm
Speaker 1: doing just fine. Just to come tomorrow. That night, I
Speaker 1: slept better than ever, so good. I left my twenty
Speaker 1: two in the other room. The next morning, I didn't
Speaker 1: catch anything, and I pulled all my traps. I had
Speaker 1: two bobcat pelts and a few coon pelts, and a
Speaker 1: pile of hickory sticks and a couple pieces of fried
Speaker 1: bobcat left over. Eventually, I heard his truck coming through
Speaker 1: the woods, and when he pulled up, all I can
Speaker 1: think to say was, Dad, You're the first human being
Speaker 1: I've seen in a week. And he really got a
Speaker 1: kick out of that, but I was serious when saying it.
Speaker 1: I showed him the hides and offered him the leftover
Speaker 1: fried cat. He wasn't a fan, but also more well
Speaker 1: nursed than I was going into the trying it, and
Speaker 1: I talked his ear off all the way home. I
Speaker 1: was proud, and I could tell that he was proud
Speaker 1: of me. I'm a firm believer that I created designed
Speaker 1: the heart of a man to be wild and dangerous,
Speaker 1: and that week my heart changed. I found the wild
Speaker 1: in it, and I came out with some confidence that
Speaker 1: I can be dangerous when I need to be. I
Speaker 1: tell both of my little boys every day that they're strong,
Speaker 1: they're wild, and they are dangerous. That week in the
Speaker 1: southern Missouri ozarks and made a lifelong impact on me
Speaker 1: and would later influence how I lead my family someday.
Speaker 1: I hope my boys have the same desire I did
Speaker 1: to be outdoors, and I hope I can give them
Speaker 1: the same opportunity that my folks gave me, only I
Speaker 1: won't leave them for too long. Or maybe I will.
Speaker 1: We'll just have to see how my wife feels that week.
Speaker 1: And according to Jacob Clark, the ash flat flash, that's
Speaker 1: just how that happened. Well, Jacob, I appreciate you sending
Speaker 1: that in and sharing it with the rest of us.
Speaker 1: You learned at an early age that you can be
Speaker 1: self sufficient when you want to be, But being put
Speaker 1: in a position to do it when you have to be,
Speaker 1: now that's a whole other level of satisfaction. Thanks buddy.
Speaker 1: In nineteen fifty nine, Philip Henry Worm went to work
Speaker 1: weld and bumpers on buses at the Ward Bodyworks Company
Speaker 1: in Conway, Arkansas. He was earning a dollar an hour
Speaker 1: and was promised a ten cent raise after his first
Speaker 1: three months. It was an agreement between his supervisor and Philip. Philip,
Speaker 1: being a man of his word, expected his boss to
Speaker 1: be the same. He was eighteen years old, and he
Speaker 1: and his new wife pat because her Patsy, were determined
Speaker 1: to make it on their own. Philip was born in
Speaker 1: nineteen forty one. His father was a truck driver serving
Speaker 1: overseas in World War Two, as were all of his
Speaker 1: uncles and relatives who were of age, all of whom
Speaker 1: would come home to Conway after surviving the conflict that
Speaker 1: ended in the fourth year of his life in nineteen
Speaker 1: fifty nine. Fourteen years following that grand homecoming, Conway's population
Speaker 1: had added twenty nine hundred ar Kansas telling to a
Speaker 1: a little over eighty six hundred folks, and Philip Warm
Speaker 1: was three months into a job banking on a promise
Speaker 1: of a supervisor's word, and the week leading up to
Speaker 1: the promised ten centini raised, he reminded his supervisor of
Speaker 1: the agreement they had made. When he collected his check
Speaker 1: on Friday and that raise wasn't there. Philip went home
Speaker 1: and he never looked back. I sat on the couch
Speaker 1: with him a few weeks ago, miss Pat and his
Speaker 1: son Terry, and we talked about his life and what
Speaker 1: he did next. He said. I came home and I
Speaker 1: told my wife I didn't get that raise, and she said,
Speaker 1: you quit, didn't you? And I told her I did.
Speaker 1: She asked me what I was going to do, and
Speaker 1: I told her I didn't know, but I'd have it
Speaker 1: figured out by Monday. Philip took two days to think
Speaker 1: and map out his plan on how he was going
Speaker 1: to support his brand new family. During the time of
Speaker 1: his youth, he became a depth at playing marbles and
Speaker 1: hunting rabbits with a slingshot, two skills that helped to
Speaker 1: keep his pockets full of ammo in Mama's kitchen full
Speaker 1: of meat. Like most folks of the time in place,
Speaker 1: they raised nearly everything they ate, depended very little on others,
Speaker 1: and worked for all that they had. He also called
Speaker 1: rabbits with a trap known as a rabbit gum wants
Speaker 1: a rabbit gum? Well, I'm glad you asked. The name
Speaker 1: comes from the traditional hollowed out blackgum log that the
Speaker 1: traps were made from. They naturally holler out due to
Speaker 1: a condition called heart rod, which is a fungus that
Speaker 1: causes the center to rod away and it leaves a
Speaker 1: wooden pipe of sorts. The outside is still solid, and
Speaker 1: all that was needed to complete the trap was a
Speaker 1: back wall on one end and a triggered trap door
Speaker 1: on the other. The name stuck, and now, at least
Speaker 1: here where I'm from, every trap of that type, even
Speaker 1: the ones built out of lumber, are called rabbit gums.
Speaker 1: But back to that weekend in nineteen fifty nine, sometime
Speaker 1: between Friday night and Sunday night, Philip Worm made his decision.
Speaker 1: On Monday morning, after breakfast, he left the house and
Speaker 1: headed for the northeast corner of Oak and Chestnut Street
Speaker 1: in Conway, where the store entrance tiles steel reads. Grummer
Speaker 1: Hardware Company, a local concern, originally operated as John Grummer's
Speaker 1: Hardware Store starting around nineteen oh five. Walter Massey took
Speaker 1: over the stocking name in October of nineteen forty two,
Speaker 1: and on that day in nineteen fifty nine, the protagonist
Speaker 1: of our story walked inside and purchased a spool of
Speaker 1: nylon line in a box of fish hooks. There was
Speaker 1: a popular local saying that if you can't find it
Speaker 1: at Mass's, they don't make it. They sold everything from
Speaker 1: farm tools, guns and ammo, to fishing gear and cannon
Speaker 1: supplies and hard to find engine parts. Philip Worm walked
Speaker 1: into that store unemployed but singular focused, with a desire
Speaker 1: to depend on only himself to provide for his family.
Speaker 1: He walked out a commercial fisherman, with Lake Conway the
Speaker 1: first place he planned to start working. Lake Conway was
Speaker 1: formed when the down was placed across Palarm Creek, forming
Speaker 1: a sixty seven hundred acre reservoir in central Arkansas, just
Speaker 1: south of Conway, built in nineteen forty eight by the
Speaker 1: Arkansas Game and Fish Commission as the largest lake constructed
Speaker 1: by h State Wildlife Commission. It was there that Phillips
Speaker 1: started fishing out of a wooden boat that he'd made
Speaker 1: in high school, and while doing so, he met the
Speaker 1: man who would become his partner for many years. Afterwards.
Speaker 1: He learned to tie gillnets and hand wove them from
Speaker 1: linen using a net needle and a sheet bend or
Speaker 1: a weaver or not. Mister Philip made his linen gill
Speaker 1: nets in the backyard of his home. There wasn't any
Speaker 1: locally available nylon small enough to use back then, and
Speaker 1: nets would be made from linen and cotton before the
Speaker 1: introduction locally from monofilment small enough to use later in
Speaker 1: the decade, US gill nets to catch and sell buffalo
Speaker 1: on the wholesale markets for seven cents a pound or
Speaker 1: retail at fifteen catfish were more than double that. So
Speaker 1: it's an easy formula comparing commercial fishing to welding bumpers
Speaker 1: as to which one was more lucrative. It's also an
Speaker 1: easy summation as to which one was harder. Fishing was
Speaker 1: every day and you didn't get rained out. You just
Speaker 1: got rained on a simple formula for a young entrepreneur.
Speaker 1: You can't sell fish if you hadn't caught him. So
Speaker 1: that's what mister Philip did. He fished. He first started
Speaker 1: out in Lake Conway, and then he moved to the
Speaker 1: Arkansas River, adding the Mississippi as his business expanded. He
Speaker 1: leased private lakes from landowners and netted buffalo by the
Speaker 1: boat loads all through the cold winter months, net in
Speaker 1: season open in January on the Mississippian on one occasion,
Speaker 1: mister Phillip and his fishing partner were prepping one hundred
Speaker 1: fiddler nets to drop up and down the Big Muddy.
Speaker 1: Once they were set, he said he would take them
Speaker 1: two solid days from daylight to dark to run them.
Speaker 1: He built a portable fish box that could hold a
Speaker 1: ton of fish and traveled with a capper in an
Speaker 1: ice machine. Garfish he sold right alongside buffalo and catfish.
Speaker 1: I've eaten them myself and the good He had a
Speaker 1: good market for all three. But fishing is hard, and
Speaker 1: not just because of the environment. A catfish in buffalo
Speaker 1: fish's metabolism slows down in cold water, and so does
Speaker 1: the catch. They become sluggish and they don't move as much,
Speaker 1: and if they ain't swimming, they ain't getting in the net.
Speaker 1: If they ain't getting in the net, the fisherman doesn't
Speaker 1: get paid. Fortunately, for the growing number of children being
Speaker 1: added to the stringer at the wormhome, the height of
Speaker 1: the fur boom was just getting underway. Add trapper to
Speaker 1: mister Phillips's resume and you'll have two thirds of the
Speaker 1: skill sets that kept the lights on at his house
Speaker 1: over the last sixty years or so. He trapped here
Speaker 1: in Arkansas and out west for weeks at a time.
Speaker 1: Traps were about a dollar each when he started out,
Speaker 1: and we walked outside to a shed behind his house,
Speaker 1: and traps by the dozen sat orderly in boxes and stacks,
Speaker 1: ready to be prepped for the upcoming season, although they
Speaker 1: appeared to have been sitting there for several seas. Three
Speaker 1: hundred dollars bobcats, top priced coyot and coon hides from Kansas, Colorado,
Speaker 1: and Wyoming were what he talked about with the most
Speaker 1: excitement each year from October to December. He stayed in
Speaker 1: campers and cabins in those states and ran his trap
Speaker 1: lines much like the fur trappers did. They were the
Speaker 1: first Europeans to see those places many years before. The
Speaker 1: pictures his daughter Tammy shared with me I'm referring to
Speaker 1: now will be on my social media channels. They're really impressive.
Speaker 1: In a big tip of the hat as proof positive
Speaker 1: to someone who relied on his knowledge of the environment
Speaker 1: and how the animals he was after interacted in it.
Speaker 1: He wasn't just posing with a pile of furs in
Speaker 1: those shots. He and his family were sitting amongst the
Speaker 1: car payment school clothes, Christmas presents, groceries, light bill and
Speaker 1: every other item required to raise a family and live
Speaker 1: a comfortable life. Comfort or lack of it, was the
Speaker 1: only thing that interrupted his trap lines. When the snow
Speaker 1: got too deep, mister Phillip went home. Now, if that
Speaker 1: ain't enough, get a load of this. At one time
Speaker 1: in Arkansas there were six turtle farm permits issued. That's right,
Speaker 1: turtle farm permits. Guess who had one of them, correct again,
Speaker 1: mister Phillip. For decades, Arkansas allowed heavy commercial collection of
Speaker 1: turtles alongside pond bread and raised ones. Between two thousand
Speaker 1: and four and twenty seventeen, one point three million turtles
Speaker 1: were harvested in Arkansas, leading to concerns of the sustainability
Speaker 1: of taking such slow mature in wild reptiles. Commercial turtle
Speaker 1: ponds like mister Phillips filled the void in a market
Speaker 1: that didn't take from the wild population. He raised them himself,
Speaker 1: as many as twenty five thousand a year from three
Speaker 1: small ponds on his property annually. Ponds were inspected and
Speaker 1: kept the codes regulated by the States Game Commission, and
Speaker 1: for nearly twenty years, turtle farming counted as the third
Speaker 1: of three sometimes simultaneous careers. They provided for the worm femily.
Speaker 1: They sold turtles commercially, most of which went overseas and
Speaker 1: locally as well. Now what I'm about to play for
Speaker 1: you now is a story told by mister Phillip about
Speaker 1: his longtime fishing and hunting partner, the late Bobby Alverson.
Speaker 1: This tale is introduced by mister Phillips's wife, Miss pat
Speaker 1: Here it is here's the story.
Speaker 2: Those are leaders thought and wanted the turtle bottle, twenty
Speaker 2: five thirty pound turtle. And Bobby went and got the turtle,
Speaker 2: and he wasn't paying close enough attention, and the turtle
Speaker 2: turned and bit bit the end of his finger roll
Speaker 2: right about the top of the right about the joint.
Speaker 2: And he sacked the turtle up and collected the money,
Speaker 2: and then he went to the doctor and they sold
Speaker 2: the end of it up. And when I got down
Speaker 2: there Monday morning to go round nuts, he was telling
Speaker 2: me about it, and he brought out this jar that
Speaker 2: was filled up with I don't know what he had alcohol,
Speaker 2: I guess anyway, he had the end of that finger
Speaker 2: in his in that jar. So I got it up
Speaker 2: looking at it, I said, my gosh, Bobby, your the
Speaker 2: least cleaned that finger nail out.
Speaker 1: Before you stuck it in that jar.
Speaker 2: That's about the end of the story, all right, he
Speaker 2: laughed at me.
Speaker 1: It is. It's a tough community of folks who run
Speaker 1: around in the commercial fishing and turtle business. Not a
Speaker 1: lot of sympathy passed around. The hazards of the job
Speaker 1: were just the things you dealt with because the job
Speaker 1: had to be done. I got a good friend who
Speaker 1: is a commercial fisherman, and he, just like mister Phillip
Speaker 1: and mister Bobby, didn't complain about the work or how
Speaker 1: hard it was. Work is work, and it's refreshing to
Speaker 1: see someone like my friend who does it now keeping
Speaker 1: this way of life alive in the wake of the
Speaker 1: mountain regulatory costs and sport fishing lobbyists. I've spoken with
Speaker 1: the Arkansas Fisheries biologists and have been assured the catfish
Speaker 1: population in the Arkansas River can easily withstand the amount
Speaker 1: of commercial fishing pressure it's receiving. Catfish of every species
Speaker 1: are thriving, and the regulations put in place will ensure
Speaker 1: that they remain that way. The big ones, the trophy
Speaker 1: class fish, are the ones that get the most attention,
Speaker 1: but they all legal to harvest are almost always released
Speaker 1: by the self policing commercial fishermen. Those are the females
Speaker 1: that keep the fishery stocked. River samplings by the state's
Speaker 1: fisheries teams report that the natural mortality of older fish
Speaker 1: far exceeds any impact brought on by commercial fishing. The smaller,
Speaker 1: more numerous sized catfish, the kind you see laying on
Speaker 1: your plate and restaurants, those are the money fish. And
Speaker 1: there's not a commercial fisherman I know or have ever
Speaker 1: talked to that wouldn't rather have twenty five two pound
Speaker 1: fish over one that weighed fifty Philip Henry worm commercial
Speaker 1: fished for sixty two years while trapping and farming turtles
Speaker 1: a lifetime of stewardship and regulated harvest, which is, in
Speaker 1: its truest working sense, the very definition of conservation. Thank
Speaker 1: y'all so much, Thanks for listening to Clay Lake and
Speaker 1: myself here on the Baggaries channel. That's gonna do it
Speaker 1: for me for this week, So until next week. This
Speaker 1: is Brent Reeves signing off. Y'all be careful