I live an easy canoe portage west of the Mississippi.

My loved ones think I'm nuts, and I think they're all wimps, but mostly I live in such a way as not to trouble them. Unrewarding as that is.

It's a mile and a half to the nearest canoe landing.

The wife insists that we drive. I'm going to have to start sneaking out before sunrise on Saturdays.

In the summer, I mean. It's about 20° out now and we're expecting a real live snowstorm tomorrow night, so I don't think I'll try it this weekend.

Oh, crap! I need to get the canoe licensed.

They don't require that in Wisconsin, which reminds me of that guy who wants to get cats delisted as a protected species in Wisconsin. I think his activities have primarily serve as a notice to Cheesehead hunters that it's actually illegal to shoot feral cats in that state. News to me. It's not in Minnesota, and I never heard such a thing when I was growing up in Wisconsin.

Of course, all the cats I saw in the woods growing up were ours. Between our cats and the giant German Shepard, Sunshine, there was absolutely nothing to hunt within a half mile of our house in NW WI. Not grouse, not squirrels, not rabbits, not deer... and even the bears stayed away. Sunshine was about 110-120#. [50-55 kg, for those of you who use that system. Does anybody know what that is in stone?]

I used to wander those woods with my .22, or Mom's 12-gauge, double-barrel shotgun, or Dad's .30-30 Winchester. [I got the necessary licenses; the rangers were out there too.] Once in a while a grouse or pheasant would scare the hell out of me, but it seemed that I was always carrying the wrong weapon. I mean, the .22's no good for birds. I never saw anything big, so the .30-30 was just generally useless (and it's too small for bear, so you just pray that you don't see any of them - and that license is too expensive for a kid anyway), and, as I said, the cats and dog chased away anything you'd want to bring down with buckshot.

So, I never became a hunter, really. Although, I enjoy wandering around the woods holding a powerful weapon. Where I grew up, it was the only way to take a walk outside during deer season; and you'd better not forget to wear your blaze orange.

The blaze orange will keep the smart people from shootin' at ya, and you have the rifle to stop the dumb people from shootin' at ya.

Generally, we laid low during deer season.