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Trapping with my dad, was truly a series of tests, and set-ups, for failure. he would more often than not let me make mistakes, in order to teach me. Necessity being the mother of invention, he taught me to think the next step ahead through, in its entirety, without my being aware of it at the time. Here’s one example.  On a frigid January  morning, we were snowed in at our rural Washington co Ga residence,,so trapping was the only income,,it didn’t stop. There was a trap we had set on a log,,in fairer weather. ice was predominate now. Me being the lightest, and more than gung-ho, I said dad, I can walk it, let me get that coon. A big boar, and quite mad. So with a grin, he handed me the  old Remington semi auto 22 that was twice my height in length,,and said there’s one in it,,do it right.Well, for the inexperienced,,large boar coons, generally  don’t just, “comply” in these situations.  After a brief and tense(for me) moment of struggle for  position, I placed the one round, RIGHT  between his eyes. At that moment, I thought it was over, I  had  done what dad thought i couldn’t and I was beaming. looking up to smile and give a healthy  crow, the “dispatched”  coon, grabbed my pantlegg,  and he, myself and the rifle all hit the ice, which was nowhere near as thick as id assumed. Several lesson were all compacted into that one, I’ll leave it to you all to deduce them. Cold and wet, I toted that coon out proud, also had a cat a little farther down. it was a good morning, and one ingrained in my memory forever. Man what id give to sit at a campfire back in the day and just listen to some of them old timers. Most gone now, but the ones I met ill never forget, aside from my dad, a old man in particular  named,  Ellis Ednifield, a true master outdoorsman  taught a me a great deal and refined much of what i already knew. Golden nuggets of wisdom, available to most any  green horn youngun’s with a mind, and the respect necessary to listen. Mr.Ellis, is no longer with us,,but was renowned and awarded, as a trapper,on the national levels. And will always have a special place in my heart and memory. Trapping was also instrumental in the founding of our great country. The fur trade was the fuel for the fires of commerce that shaped those early days. Beaver,,was all the rage in Europe,,and here as well for that hat trade. And of course decorative fur coats and boas, shawls, of the aristocracy,,that even had remnants on social standing here in the U.S.A. were the demand for most all fur bearers. .Also, instrumental in the not so well noted  cases of good trade relations with the native Americans, were the  independent freelance, and truly free “mountain men”. of various nationality, English, French, Irish,Swede’s and many a half breed Indian mixed with the aforementioned. Lately there has been a resurgence in popularity,or at least interest in the art and tradition. And we applaud that, not only for its historical preservation,but preservation of the art. And we would love to see it grow. Take a kid hunting,, take them fishing,,,and by all means devote some time to tracking and trapping skills. Not only of historical importance,,but god forbid the worse scenarios,,and possible means of survival,for sustainment, and or fortifications.