Story Break
Your Skunk FAQ.
Questions about the skunk and the camping, finally answered.
Q: What is the purpose of camping?
A: You are talking of what was more correctly known as Kam-Ping, because of the sound of various things such as pine cones (strobili, the woody organs of plants containing the familiar reproductive structures) falling onto the tent, or animal droppings, which were commonly deposited also, from on high. But an even earlier name was simply Znoo-Zing, The time of closed eyes, yet having one eye open, just in case. Possibly to avoid the droppings.
The purpose of both (according to the Ancient Texts) was "For the purpose of stopping the walking, and then sleeping, to refresh the soles and allow the feet to cool." And that really has not changed.
Q: When did camping begin?
A: Legend has it that it began in the Year of the Blister, in olden times, when people had nothing else to occupy themselves with, and all too often experienced death, because of how things were then.
So some decided Why not? Couldn't hurt!
But they also died — some sooner, some later. In those days everyone died, and still do, sadly. So camping has never been hugely popular because it seems to be completely useless, despite the snoozing. Even worse for the backpacking, which has to be done while awake.
Q: What do I need to know to engage in backpacking and camping? (Assuming I want to.)
A: The Completeness of the Walker is a good book about early backpacking and camping. It was written by Kao-Lin of the Fle Tcher clan. They, the Fle Tchers, were the People-Who-Stick-Feathers-Onto-Arrows-For-A-Living clan (At least in their earlier days, when arrows were high technology items and considered pretty nifty.)
And for later backpacking, the perennial and once-revolutionary favorite is The Beyondness of Backpacking, written by the great guru Ray-Jar Din (who is in fact a descendant of the Venerable Jar Jar Binks, although pricklier). Guru Ray's most famous quote is possibly "The backpacker who becomes light quickly attains Snow Peak."
Q: Will I benefit from eating deep fried skunk, or is camping enough by itself?
A: Yes, following such a meal you will become charged by a force of great energy, as will be proven if you are audited by an authority in this field. (Ask around to find your local Scien-Taoist, who will be glad to help you, for a fee.)
If a holder of a traditional health policy, you may find the skunk diet covered by it, under primitive medicine, subcategory aromatherapy.
Metaphysical ailments of course, are something else again. Any difficulties of the metaphysical kind require direct intervention by a Kam-Ping Master of at least the Third Degree. (Such masters, being beyond commerce, do not of course charge, but are traditionally offered a discreet gratuity of cash in unmarked bills of small denominations).
Q: Will sleeping on a skunk pillow redirect the flow of my life force?
A: That, and more.
But this can happen only after achieving expertness in removing the glands of the scent, or inducing someone else to do this important work. Scent cannot be deflected or redirected by use of a mirror, or by hand signals. Scent rides the wind like a demon and invades every sacred and profane spot alike — the clothing, the nose, the mouth, the eyes, and all points elsewhere.
Sleeping on a properly prepared skunk pillow brings you power but without aroma.
Therefore we recommend acquiring a carefully prepared pillow free of all stink-juice taint. See your friendly neighborhood Kam-Ping Master for help here too.
Q: Will hanging wind chimes stop evil spirits in the form of harmful scents which have escaped from a skunk?
A: No. Wind chimes only serve to attract New Age idiots, the harmonically convergent, believers in photon belts, drinkers of kombucha, and a few decrepit hippies — all losers. Don't go there.
Q: I have a hole in the corner of my tent. Will I always be wet and suffer from draftiness and inquisitive creatures such as wandering skunks?
A: Only as long as you continue camping in the rain, or where winds blow, or where snuffly night critters have no other way to amuse themselves.
But should you aspire to a higher level of outdoorsiness, try this — first drop the concept of hole and then the concept of tent. Switching to a tarp will help, since using a tarp for shelter is like draping a hankie over the nose of a charging grizzly — only a reminder of your tiny insignificance before the thundering vast power of the universe. But try it anyway. It'll be a good reality check.
Then, once you have passed beyond the Hole/Tent Duality, you will find that you have let go of everything. This is the state of Ko-Zi, the realization such that no matter where you go, there you are. Having attained Ko-Zi-ness, you will be able to lie down and snore free of worriment over wind and rain and whatever might be out there, or how many teeth it has, because you realize that screw the worrying, something is going to nail you in the end anyway, and you might as well get some shut-eye while you can.
Or as an alternate exercise, shoot your entire karmic wad in completing a full yuga-cycle of sewing machine meditations, assuming you can lay in enough sil-nylon to practice on. (It's getting expensive lately.) By the time you seal your last seam you will be an Adept, one who realizes that in fact not only is there no hole but there is no tent, nor tarp (at least no decent one you can make yourself and be proud of), and you thereby become carefree as a butterfly, even if remaining damp, windblown, and endlessly punctured by bugs.
I.e., whatever floats your sleeping pad. Just do what works for you, 'K?
Q: I have a fireplace along my north-west wall. Is that bad?
A: In a tent it is, yes. Do not go there or you will get burned. And your tent will be consumed too. Bummer.
Q: Will my luck change if I have plastic surgery?
A: Most discover that there are different answers to this question for different people at different times.
One answer is also a question: How much money do you have?
Likewise, another is: How ugly are you now?
And also: Do you habitually and impatiently rush to do stupid things? (Hint: Check yourself for tattoos.)
Consider carefully.
Remember, the concept of face is a crucial part of the Way of the Ancients. Surgery will not improve your score or raise your intelligence, and can cause you to lose your face entirely if done improperly.
But you can try anyway if you have the bucks to throw around. Hey — it's all relative.
Q: Should I ever take compass directions from inside my tent?
A: Even if you did, where then would you go?
See?
Q: I have heard that in advanced camping, for proper tent alignment, true north is used instead of magnetic north. Is this so? Where do I find a compass that will tell me this?
A: If you are truly advanced in the out-of-doors you knew the answer before the question was asked.
If not, then check out our online store for books and accessories, including, if we may say, several very neato compasses carefully aligned with and tuned to the higher spiritual influences.
Q: What do you eat for best camping results?
A: While it is true that skunk is the best brain food, pepperoni pizza is awesome and more likely to stay down.
Here is a quick skunk recipe though, for those days when you are so far out that pizza delivery becomes impossible.
The Recipe.
Ingredients
First, fetch two skunks.
Induce them to remove themselves from their skins and then have them shower up, for cleanliness.
Measure one tablespoon of salt and put it in a safe place. You will need this.
Water
Locate enough water to cover the skunks when they are lying flat-side down. Either side is fine. Each skunk has two flat sides, so if you misplace one the other is still available. In fact this step is actually moot because only a little later we get to use a knife and do some hacking. But each step is required by tradition and we do not want to annoy any spirits, so play along as if you mean it.
You need two cups of bear fat or two cups of lard. Butter will do if a cow is handy and you are short on bears or pigs that day.
Now you need the yolks from two eggs. Eggs are common enough, and each has a yolk, so that part should not be difficult. Get what you can. Most likely this will be from a bird, but lizard eggs work, as well as eggs from any medium-sized beast that emits them.
Once you get the eggs, beat them, but only the yolks, and gently, so as not to anger them.
Next you need cream or milk, three cups of it. Mouse milk is acceptable if you have nothing else, but it requires great patience and diligence to gather, and you may incur bites. This is also awkward if you are running late, or if you are already hungry, so a larger animal may be your best bet for milk. Larger animals have bigger tanks.
Whatever the animal is, find it and milk it. Separating the cream is beyond today's lesson, so if you are not good in that department don't be choosy — use whole milk. It is adequate even if you are not.
Let there be flour. One to one-and-a-half-cups, lightly fluffed.
And more salt. Half a teaspoon. In addition to the other salt. But keep the two separate or they will fight.
Two tablespoons baking powder.
Now back to the skunks
If the skunks did not manage to clean themselves for you, then finish the job yourself. Start by working on the scent glands. If you are too busy to do this yourself, then a distant relative is a good bet. Or a hobo. Preferably someone you will never see again. Someone who is passing through and will not be staying for lunch and getting on your nerves.
At this point, now, finally, you have two clean skunks without their skins or their scent globes.
So kill them if they are not already dead.
Note 1: Many cooks do this before removing the skins, etc.
Note 2: Skunks seldom do this part for you either.
Inducing a skunk to remove its skin and wash itself is about the best you can possibly do. If that. But don't get your hopes up.
In general, do not expect too much from a skunk. Skunks are wild animals, have limited skills, and are provided with only a restricted range of intellectual abilities. They very rarely kill themselves on command, even if you ask politely. Deal with it.
Cut the now-dead skunks into small pieces. Use the knife for this. (This is the part where the knife comes in, see?) Avoid the bones, internal organs, feet, heads, and so forth. You want only the meat. The meat is the part you will eat. Not the other stuff.
But first you must cook the meat.
Cooking
So put the meat into a kettle, cover with the cold water you collected, add the original tablespoon of salt, which has been waiting patiently, and boil the meat until tender, about forty minutes.
Now, if you get scum on the water, remove the scum, which should not be eaten as you can tell from its name. After this cooking and scum-removing, retrieve the pieces of meat and set them aside to cool.
Batter
You need batter, so make it.
Mix egg yolks, milk (or cream, if you found some), flour, salt (the extra salt), and baking powder. Then thrash it like crazy until it is fully battered. Battering does not annoy this stuff so whale away.
More cooking
In a deep skillet then, heat the fat until it begins to smoke.
Pieces of skunk meat may now be dipped into the batter and then tossed into the hot fat. Fry until brown.
And so, when they are brown — these pieces of skunk meat — remove them, drain well, and serve.
This is delicious. Eat and enjoy. Post-luncheon, have a nap using your skunk-fur pillow to get a little extra power boost from this animal, the skunk. (Which some call "wood pussy" because of the power it has over the minds of men.)
More questions.
Q: Wood pussy?
A: Yes. Or Alaska sable, autopsy leopard, polecat, puke trotter, vomit rat, backside betrayer, musk bunny, fanny dragon, pungentor of the woods, odion, scented pus flinger, butt monster, scourge kitty, foumart, fitch, two-tone scab rat, death-dealing derriere dueller, barf beagle, squirt angel, hindquarter hellion, runty stink-wolf, stench-weasel. The list goes on.
Call it what you will, there is nothing like a skunk.
Q: What does skunk taste like?
A: Please ask someone who has eaten it.
Q: What. You haven't eaten skunk?
A: Nope.
Q: Yet you've published a recipe. What's the deal?
A: Makes a good story. Fills space. Provides typing practice.
Q: What kind of loser are you?
A: Well, that is harsh, isn't it? We hardly have time to get into that. Next question.
Q: Wo. Let's talk about it. Now, please.
A: Ahhh, sorry. As you can see by my loaded backpack, I really am late for a trip. Come back later sometime. If the door is locked, just keep knocking. OK bye.