{"id":36470,"date":"2025-07-19T00:00:08","date_gmt":"2025-07-19T07:00:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/?p=36470"},"modified":"2025-07-07T16:52:21","modified_gmt":"2025-07-07T23:52:21","slug":"a-moveable-feast","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2025\/07\/19\/a-moveable-feast\/","title":{"rendered":"A Moveable Feast"},"content":{"rendered":"

Moore has a grin plastered across his face, white teeth flashing beneath his mirrored sunglasses. He descends the last of the steep canyon slope into camp; we watch from the riverbank, where Steve and I had turned from teasing smallies to glance up-slope at the sound of rolling rock.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

His shotgun is strapped across his back, and he has something in each hand that dragged along the ground.<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span><\/i>What the hell… ?\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Steve is equally confused: <\/span><\/i>\u201c<\/span><\/i>Firewood… ?<\/span><\/i>\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u201cThey look like giant rabbits…\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span><\/i>Jacks… Dude, they<\/span><\/i>\u2019<\/span><\/i>re jackrabbits. What the hell do we do with them?\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

Moore<\/span><\/i> stops in front of us, lifting his bounty with a piratical grin: <\/span><\/i>\u201c<\/span><\/i>Look what daddy brought home!\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

Moore, our kayak ninja and neophyte hunter, knew we were looking for dinner when we sent him off earlier in the day. He later told us he\u2019d climbed to the canyon rim and found these two hopping through the wheat fields up top.<\/p>\n

But jacks… really? Rumored to be stringy dark meat and not at all cottontail-like, we were nevertheless honor bound to cook them up. Fortunately, by this time, Callie, our cook-cum-masseuse, had joined us. \u201cYum!\u201d she said, smiling big. \u201cSlow cook, with rosemary and red potatoes, a salad… bon appetit!\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Eating locally and living off the land (to some degree, at least) when we float a canyon is an integral part of our adventure. A chance to cut loose our inner predator and live a little like old-time explorers. Lewis and company, for example, having to live off what they could catch, shoot, barter or gather. It puts a daily imperative into our camp routine. <\/span><\/p>\n

Sure, we\u2019ve brought the freeze-dried along in the event we draw a blank, but if you\u2019re anything like us, it\u2019s the same half-dozen shelf-worn Mylar bags we\u2019ve packed for the last couple decades. Why not leave that plastic-enshrined meat from the market at home and draw from the bounty of a healthy riverine ecosystem?<\/span><\/p>\n

A Floating Deli<\/span><\/b><\/h4>\n

Classic floats on big rafts are essentially a floating deli, but a very low-water float in the summer heat can put the <\/span>perish<\/span><\/i> in perishables.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Pack your veggies\u2014eating locally in the canyon is mostly a carnivorous proposition. Still, desert canyons in the southwest have a few options in addition to wild game: yucca and a couple types of cacti, even the mesquite trees have some high-protein pods. A little miner\u2019s lettuce or blackberries is about all I\u2019ve come across here in the northwest.<\/span><\/p>\n

Forage with caution and a good guidebook: I recall the deaths of several in a rafting party on the Deschutes after mistaking water hemlock for wild asparagus. Alfalfa sprouts are a creative thought, if handled carefully. Our cook brought a batch on the Owyhee once but forgot to bring them into her tent and they froze overnight. Apart from the staples we bring, typically rice and pasta, wild game heads up the menu.<\/span><\/p>\n