_las Piedras Recipes

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• Campfires evoke memories from anyone who has ever sat around listening or telling stories by nature's own light. It is not uncommon for stories bordering on the bizarre to be told and re-told, but while camped at the river put-in on the Bruneau River in SW Idaho, a truly bizarre story unfolded before our eyes.Anyone who has ever floated the Bruneau River in Idaho's Owyhee County already knows that a big part of the adventure is just getting there! Mile after mile of rutted, kidney-jarring road across a seemingly endless plateau of sagebrush erodes the patience of all in the party. Suddenly what moments before appeared to be a sea of sagebrush is parted by the Bruneau River Canyon, just as the Red Sea parted for Moses and his followers in the Bible story! Though the float trip begins on the river, which twinkles at the canyon bottom, the adventure by road is not yet ended! Now the road descends through a lava escarpment. Chiseled and blasted from solid rock, this road challenges any who dare drop off the canyon rim! Rusted, burned-out hulks lying among the jumbled rocks below the escarpment bear mute testimony to the fate of careless drivers before us.After successfully making this first descent, my two pards, Jim Van Ark and Mike Brogliatti, and I watched our shuttle drivers attain the rim before starting to rig our boats. We had two days to burn while waiting for the rest of our party to descend the Jarbridge River in canoes and a kayak to where we were. The Jarbridge enters the Bruneau about a mile upstream from the put-in. We pitched our camp near an old bridge that is no longer safe for vehicles to cross. After getting the boats rigged, we checked out nearby Indian Hot Springs and rustled up some firewood for camp. Rather than set up a firepan, I chose to grill our elk steaks over an open fire in a rock fire ring made by previous campers. At one point I thought about relocating a couple of rocks in the fire ring to better balance my grill, but managed to get it steady enough that it wasn't worth the bother. But because I didn't move those rocks, I'll never know the answer to a question I ended up asking the next day. That evening the three of us sat around the fire telling stories, remembering other river trips, and wondering how our pards were faring up on the Jarbridge.The next morning after rolling out of bed, we immediately congregated around the fire again to ward off the late April chill. After warming my bones, I headed to Indian Hot Springs for a soak and a bath. Jim Van Ark followed minutes later taking photos. As an aside, it was at this time that Jim took the photo of me in the bathtub that appears on the back cover of this book.When camping, most folks expect some privacy or solitude as part of a camping experience. While camped at the Bruneau River put-in at the end of a dead end road, which almost defies description, 'isolation' better defines our campsite! Being mid-week and early in the floating season, we were not expecting to see anyone else that morning as we sat around drinking coffee. All of a sudden we heard a vehicle approaching and figured another party of floaters were coming in. For a couple of minutes before the rig came into view it almost sounded like an off road motorcycle. In all my years of patrolling and driving back roads in Idaho and other western states imagine my surprise when a two-wheel drive sedan of foreign manufacture came into view.Our surprise only increased when two fellows, one in his twenties and the other middle-aged got out of the car. Surprise turned to apprehension as these two characters approached us. Had we been in a movie theater I would've thought two characters from "Deliverance" had come to life. My officer safety training kicked in as both guys began to advance after just saying 'Hi'! The older fellow stopped when he reached the fire ring and bent down and rolled over one of the rocks. From underneath the rock he picked up a wad of bills folded in half. Even with a twenty-pound river rock setting on them this wad of bills was almost two inches thick. Before he pocketed the money I could see only the bill on the outside of the roll and it was larger than a twenty!After backing off a couple of steps the older guy said, "We left this here last weekend and decided to come back and see if it was still here!" He went on to tell us they'd been camped where we were and had hid their money under the rock before walking up to the mouth of the Jarbridge to do some prospecting. Even though I knew it to be a tacky question, I asked how much money was in the roll. He replied, "Just some pocket change." Pocket change my foot! Even if they were all one-dollar bills, these two guys had a bit more than pocket change hidden under that rock! I guess even in the woods folks hide their valuables in odd places! Although a bit bizarre but true, I still tell this one around the fire!Spiced with More Tall Tales - Meats

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• If you like to eat, taking off on a back country trip with someone you don't know well who says he will do the cooking, presents the same chance for success as going on a blind date arranged by your sister. But...as an old boss of mine used to say, "Life is nothing but a series of missed opportunities!" You have to take the chance, but it's unwise to let your expectations get too high. Anyway...In late August, 1983, my boss passed some information on to me about two fellas who had drawn permits to hunt bighorn sheep along Idaho's Middle Fork of Salmon River and were allowing two other guys to go hunting in their place. Such a transfer is, of course, contrary to Idaho Code. Al told me to put together an operation which if successful might educate these guys and generate a little income for the state judicial system at the same time. I enlisted Russ Kozacek and Paul Valcarce to help with the operation. The plan went something like this. Paul and I would fly a float boat into Indian Creek and float down to the mouth of Loon Creek and meet Russ with his pack string. Russ and Paul would head up toward Norton Ridge where our informant said these guys planned to hunt. I would set up surveillance on a trail junction should they miss the guys up on the mountain. Russ and I split picking up the camp groceries and cooking duties. I would take care of everything along the river, and Russ would provide for Paul and him while on horseback. No problem!?!?!Russ readily admits that he and I come from different camp cooking schools. Russ graduated with honors from the school that teaches folks to fix the simplest, quickest recipes that result in the fewest dirty dishes. The ability to boil water is high on the list of criteria required to graduate from this particular school that shall remain un-named here! The grub in his camp isn't fancy but there is always enough. That is, until this trip.At the appointed time we met at the US Forest Service tent frame located about a half mile below the confluence of the Big Loon Creek with Middle Fork.Let me digress here and tell you a little more about where we met. At this time the USFS stationed a person at the tent frame during the summer float season. The fireguard had pulled out just a week before we arrived. Among other duties, this person kept the one-hole outhouses located at float camps supplied with toilet paper. More than once I'd stopped to re-supply when my own stocks of this vital commodity ran low.While Paul and I sorted his stuff, Russ started putting things in two different piles. One pile they would take with them on the trail, and another pile to leave with me at our base camp. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Russ pick up some of the "Woodsy Owl" drawstring garbage bags to stow stuff in out of the tent frame. Coincidentally, the fireguard kept his extra TP in the same bags hung on a nail next to the door. With all three of us working, it didn't take long to get the pack stock loaded. After agreeing on radio codes and check-in times, Russ and Paul pulled out.I squared my gear around after they left, then pulled a paperback book out of my duffel and began the surveillance. I fixed a chicken and pasta dish in my 10" aluminum DO and sat on the porch maintaining surveillance as long as I had reading light. Then it came time to light a lantern and move inside. I reached into the "Woodsy Owl" bag for a roll of TP prior to taking a stroll up the hill to the privy. Only when we compared notes several days later did we determine that we'd made simultaneous discoveries! I reached in expecting to grab a soft round roll, not a foil wrapped package containing freeze-dried beef stroganoff! Meanwhile, up on Norton Ridge, Russ ended up being the one to grasp what I was looking for! Later, there was considerable confusion over WHO was responsible for the switch! In my case I substituted a copy of the previous year's fishing regulations for what I needed, while Russ and Paul split a can of kipper snacks and a couple of granola bars found at the bottom of a saddle bag.If there is a moral to this story it's this. Even if you're not the cook, at least check to make sure the cook packs the grub!Spiced with More Tall Tales - Meats

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• Though someone, somewhere other than in Idaho, coined the phrase, "meat and potatoes", growing up in SE Idaho pretty much guaranteed one saw plenty of "taters" at meal time. Being a native Idahoan who happened to be born on the same day Idaho gained statehood, I'm duty bound to include a special section on spuds.(Actually I entered the scene sixty years after statehood).Besides having eaten enough spuds in my life to say I've done my share to make "Idaho Famous", as a kid growing up I worked on several large potato farms. After graduating from college (as I related earlier in this book), I spent some time driving truck, long haul for my Uncle Harold. While doing so, I continued to do my part to make "Idaho Famous" by hauling 20 ton loads of spuds to areas not known for their tuber production!In camp or in the kitchen, spuds are considered a staple world wide. The list of things spuds don't go well with is so short I'm not going to bother. Conversely the list they do go with is so long it would be prohibitive to list here. Besides having countless uses as a side dish, or as an ingredient in various recipes, spuds make great menu extenders. On those occasions when company comes unexpectedly, or your brother-in-law, without your knowledge, invites all of his in-laws to your deer camp, an extra sack of taters cooked any way you want will at least get you through meal time. My dad, who spent more time than he cares to remember on KP duty in the army, could easily write a book just on peeling potatoes. However, the folks who count calories, grams of fat, and list all the nutrients in our chow tell us we're short changing ourselves nutritionally by peeling our taters. As camp cooks, anything which saves time fixing a meal means a little more time to spend fishing before heading back to camp to cook! Unless I'm making mashed potatoes for a formal dinner (which is rare) I save the hassle.Fixed fancy or simple, spuds should be a staple in your grub box. I prefer fresh potatoes over all the other ways one finds them packaged in stores. However you fix them, always plan for seconds all the way around.A Back Country Guide to Outdoor Cooking Spiced with Tall Tales - Vegetables in Camp

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• If you're not a duck hunter or married to a duck hunter, just skip this recipe. Personally, I've never tried to cook a coot, primarily because I've never even shot at an "Ivory Billed Mallard". Remember, this is the guy who will eat every thing except grits and green lima beans. In this modern age, it seems to me, too many people blame events in their childhood for the mistakes or failures they make as adults. Some rightly so, but I can't help but feel a lot of it is over done!So where is all this leading, you ask yourself? Yup! you guessed it, my childhood. Since my dad first took me duck hunting at age three, the list of things I've done in life longer than I've duck hunted is fairly short. Memories of those first duck hunts are still vivid. Back in that distant past, I learned that the preferred duck of those who wait at home while others duck hunt, to be mallards. Those of the green headed variety! My dad, being a pretty fair hand with a shotgun, seldom got skunked in those days. He'd been there before, but it was a new experience for me, just four years old. About the only thing flying in the marsh that day were coots, which Dad had several different adjectives to describe. I didn't understand why dad didn't shoot them as they patterned by. At that time I obviously thought-ducks are ducks! Wrong! How long I pestered Dad to shoot them, I can't remember. What I do remember is him saying, "Mother didn't like any kind of ducks except those with green heads" and it wouldn't be very smart to take something home she didn't like. Though I was just four years old, that part I understood! I'm sure Dad first passed this recipe on that day. Over the years, Dad repeated this recipe so many times I've memorized it without ever having cooked it.A Back Country Guide to Outdoor Cooking Spiced with Tall Tales - Fowl & Fish

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• Keeping fresh produce in camp requires some planning, especially if you have to plan for salad hounds. Consider taking cabbage and making coleslaw instead of lettuce. The cabbage will keep several times longer than lettuce. A couple of years ago we shredded cabbage for coleslaw and packed it in resealable bags for a river trip. Squeeze as much air out as possible before you seal it. On day five we popped open the bags and made the dressing and had fresh slaw in less than ten minutes. If soups or stews are on your menu, throw in a few turnips and parsnips. Like potatoes, carrots, and onions they will keep fresh in a cooler or pack box for several days without ice. If you don't grow a garden, stop if you can at the local farmers' market on your way out of town on a summer trip. Farm fresh veggies taste better and are better for you. I try to keep canned veggies to a minimum just to save weight in my garbage sack. Also taking fresh veggies instead of frozen ones will reduce the amount of money you spend on ice. Depending on how long your trip is, many fresh veggies can be peeled, sliced, diced, etc., at home, which also saves preparation time in camp and reduces your garbage to bring out.Spiced with More Tall Tales - Vegetables and Salads

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• For those of you who didn't take high school Spanish this translates to 'The Rocks'. Las Piedras Ranch owned by Dwain and Sandy Riney of Montgomery, Texas, is aptly named. Located in Real County, WNW of San Antonio, Las Piedras Ranch exemplifies the Texas 'Hill Country'! Their ranch, though not large by Texas standards, supports a healthy population of native wildlife and is also host to numerous exotic species. These wild, free ranging exotics escaped from neighboring ranches years ago. Dwain and Sandy recently invited me down to cook for some of their hunters. This particular hunt is a 'special hunt' for both the Riney family and the hunters. Once a year Dwain and Sandy donate a hunt for exotic species at Las Piedras to the Montgomery County Cattle Barons' Ball and benefit auction. The money raised from this annual event benefits the Montgomery County Unit of the American Cancer Society. In the course of my visit Dwain pulled out the 'ranch recipe box' and selected several favorites of his and Sandy's that he thought I'd like. In addition Sandy has since called me with a couple of other old family favorites. We hate to think of family heirlooms disappearing, but it happens when you prepare these recipes. My thanks to Dwain and Sandy for sharing them and inviting me down to share their corner of heaven in the Texas Hill Country!Spiced with More Tall Tales - Appetizers