As you might imagine, from time to time, questions are posed to the Reecer Creek Rod, Gun, Working Dog & Outdoor Think Tank Benevolent Association. I believe this is because we have gathered some of the best minds in the Western Hemisphere.
Perhaps I get the hard ones, because I am willing to devote research time to finding answers to those outdoor questions with which others can only struggle.
A homey who wishes to remain anonymous followed up on a recent column by raising some interesting points. To wit: “I have long felt that groups of us—and even some individuals—can and do create weather, danger and other situations that society handles just with our thoughts. What is your opinion of the role of the mass media in this?”
It seems to me that, at some point, we gave over control of our health and well-being to the American Medical Association and its lackeys, the mass media. The media report some new outbreak of the flu—verified by some official-sounding medical association—and thousands of us dutifully fall ill with it and the rest line up for flu shots. Some official crackpot identifies tree mold as on the rise, gets the media to “report” it (along with a suggestion that a large number of people are allergic to these levels of tree mold), and people throughout the broadcast area start sneezing and wheezing. We pretend the media gives us all sides of issues so we can make considered judgments about our lives. Not so; the Daily Record is the only balanced media left.
Actually, now that I think about it, I have no opinion about that, homey.
“So you are going ‘steelhead’ fishing. What exactly are they, and how did they get that name?”
(Lois Love Brown, South Ellensburg)
I’m delighted to share my research on this, Lois. Simply, steelhead are sea-run rainbow trout. But it’s not that simple. They’re anadromous—meaning that they are “bi” (liking fresh water AND salt water). The whole thing started when a rainbow got large enough to develop a taste for ferrous minerals. It headed for the ocean and places where the underlying rock was rich in iron. The shrimp and salt-water prey of this first sea-run trout were very high in dissolved iron. That iron, in turn, was absorbed into the bony parts of the sea-run rainbow. By the time the first sea-run rainbow returned to fresh water, its bones, especially the skull, was nearly entirely iron. As others joined that first pioneer, they became exceptionally heavy, strong, fighting fish. Part of their beauty is the result of some of the iron leaking out through their gills, staining their sides with an almost iridescent red color. The first European to catch one of these fish did so accidently when he dropped his magnetic watch fob into the Columbia, and immediately found himself chained to a twelve-pound trout. The year was 1855, the man’s name was John Steele, and thus it became “steelehead.” Really, the fish is more appropriately named “ironhead,” but you know how biologists are. It also should be obvious to you why Washington Fish and Wildlife has outlawed the use of magnets in ironheading.
Roberto K. Pensepesca, Ellensburg, asks: “I know that males’ contribution to fish egg fertilization is called ‘milt,’ which is released over the female’s eggs to fertilize them. What is the source of this term, ‘milt’?”
An excellent question. Too little has been understood about this over the years, and I’m pleased to straighten it out now. In 1798, when the first fish hatcheries were being built, the idea of hatching and rearing fish in captivity, to then be released into the wild, was big news. During that time, the press was very cautious about using words which might titillate emotions of America’s good citizens. The first headline, “Fish Semen Spread Over Ova!” stirred up such an uproar, that the entire program was in danger of being scrapped. Biologists quickly hatched a new plan. Milton Harrison (who, you may recall, pitched in Erie, Pennsylvania’s first baseball game) was the man in charge of “milking” the males, so the semen became, euphemistically, “milt.” Following this same logic, ova became “suzanna” after the woman in charge of stripping the eggs from the females. Suzanna didn’t actually last long at that job, as she had great inner conflict over the whole idea of females giving up their eggs for science and became increasingly depressed. (While her career in the hatchery was short, she became widely known as the heroine of Stephen Foster’s song in honor of her stand for the female fish, “Oh, Suzanna.” But I digress.) The first headline using the new euphemisms for fish sex read, “Suzanna Covered By Milt At Fish Hatchery!” That was too much for those fine folk, and biologists decided just to call them eggs, or roe. The “milt” part stuck, however, and we still honor Milton by using it today.
As always, submit your hard-to-answer questions (of an outdoor nature, please) to the RCRGWD&OTTBA in care of this paper or to the blog. We are always pleased to share answers to the mysteries of the natural world.
[Copyright James L. Huckabay, 2013]
