Saturday, September 6, 2008

Frog gigging at the mental hospital

Know my family, know me.

One the greatest hunting legends in my family is the story of the night my dad and my uncle snuck into the grounds of a secure mental hospital to go frog gigging.

Interestingly enough, my uncle chose to post that story on his blog this week, when I've been sorting through a Labor Day weekend hunting extravaganza that frequently bordered on the surreal.

I haven't written about that weekend yet because school has started - I manage my university's newspaper, and getting back into the swing of things is always chaotic.

But I've thought about it a lot, especially about how blessed I am to have amazing experiences all the time. And reading my uncle's story about the frog gigging served to remind me that with my genes, it was probably inevitable that my life would be so relentlessly unusual.

I'll get to the stories of last weekend as soon as I dig out from under my avalanche of work. But in the meantime, I hope you'll check out the frog gigging legend. Just click here.

© Holly A. Heyser 2008

12 comments:

Live to Hunt.... said...

Nothing like a little frog gigging at the looney bin to keep you grounded! Look forward to your labor day story. I have one as well that is brewing for later this week!

SimplyOutdoors said...

Frog gigging at the crazy house. That is interesting.

I have a confession. I didn't even know what frog gigging was until a few years ago, when it was mentioned in a song.

It does sound interesting though. And to have it occurring inside the lines of a mental institution is even better.

NorCal Cazadora said...

I have not been frog gigging yet. I haven't even eaten frog legs!

Boyfriend and I were supposed to go gigging a month or two ago, but our gigging partner canceled. I'm sure we'll reschedule - we'll try anything.

Kristine said...

What a great story. Obviously writing talent runs in the family.

Never have tried frog gigging and probably never will. Not to big on slimy things generally.

Phillip said...

I love your uncle's blog! It's hilarious, but it's also completely "real".

Speaking of real, and surreal, I'm looking forward to the labor-day write-up.

NorCal Cazadora said...

So am I - it's going to be quite a story. But I have some work to do before I can tell it properly. Stay tuned...

Tom Sorenson said...

I'm heading there now - I mean that is just too good a story to pass up!

Tom Sorenson said...

Oh man - too funny! I'm not sure I could climb over inward turned barbed wire - that must have been quite a trick!

NorCal Cazadora said...

I think I was born AFTER that, so I'm pretty sure nothing important was damaged in the process. :-)

Lori said...

I loved your uncle's story! It sounds like something one of my uncles (or my father) would have done!
Lori
http://journals.aol.com/helmswondermom/DustyPages/

Swamp Thing said...

Hilarious! We did some prison fishing ourselves this spring:

http://rivermud.blogspot.com/2008/05/fishing-99-to-life-at-foothills-prison.html

It's great to find unexpected places where people would prefer not to visit!

Anonymous said...

While it isn't quite the same, this reminds me of having my galfriend, Miss Lil (in her mid 50s at the time) and a fellow hunter and lawyer friend, Tom L. (in his 70s and both of them easily passing for 20 years younger) joining me on a midnight foray in downtown Portland, Oregon walking along under some of the city's freeway onramps and offramps, netting Pigeons to use for training Bird Hunting dogs!

What a site we were as the midnight bar scene revellers passing by and bums that slept under these overpasses gawked at us carrying this huge Salmon Net with 18' handle, a powerful Spotlight, and Lil and Tom teaming up to carrying the poultry cage.

Even the cops cruised by several times, uncertain of what we were up to or whether it looked legal to them! I don't think they figured it out.

I've gigged Bullfrogs, but never by sneaking into any sort of institution. But I can certainly appreciate what that experience must have been like.

Bill C.-Orygun