BIG GAME

Three St. Clair men share their love of the hunt

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Graham Hadley

Some folks get their kicks riding race cars at top speed around an oval track. Others get a rush from parachuting out of airplanes, paragliding off high mountain peaks, or surviving an eight-second ride on a bull so mean he’d just as soon kill you as look at you.

Several St. Clair County men know another type of thrill, one that’s difficult for them to describe. It comes from taking down an elephant that he has tracked for miles across a South African plain, a lion that just roared from a brush-pile 12 feet away or an Alaskan brown bear that was about to invite him to dinner … as the entrée.

Between them, Rob Smith, Gordon Palmgren and Joe Wheeler have shot hundreds of birds and animals, large and small, from grouse to sheep and elephants. Each will tell you that it’s not the kill that provides the thrill. It’s the sighting and tracking of these animals that give these guys that rush of adrenalin, a rush so powerful they’re willing to spend thousands of dollars to experience it over and over again. For them, pulling the trigger is actually anti-climactic.

“After you shoot, it’s all over,” says Smith. “There’s a tinge of sadness because you’ve taken this magnificent animal’s life.”

All three men have been hunting most of their lives. Two of them were taught by a female member of their family. Smith, for example, went on his first hunt with his grandmother when he was 10 years old. “She was one of the last of the old pioneer women,” he says. “She could do anything.” They hunted rabbits and squirrels together around Tallahassee, Fla., where he grew up. They usually took their prey home and ate it. “Man has always hunted,” he says. “It’s part of our basic instinct. As you get older, you start hunting deer here in the South. I progressed.”

Rob Smith shows off a photo of a brown
bear hunt in front of the animal.

Smith, who started Advance Machinery in 1985 and retired 20 years ago, has been hunting big game for more than 30 years. His first international hunt was in Mongolia in 1990, and netted him an ibex, a type of wild mountain goat distinguished by the male’s large, recurved horns, and a six-point elk. Their cape mounts (head and shoulders) hang on one side of his den fireplace, while a 22-point red stag from New Zealand hangs on the other side.“You only count one side of the head for the points on an elk,” he says. “You count both sides for a red stag.”

Throughout the house are mounts of many of the animals Smith has taken. Above the fireplace is the skull of a moose, an animal whose size is measured by the distance between the widest points of its “palms,” the two wide, flat antlers. This one measures 55 inches. Mule deer from Wyoming and Montana flank the doorway into his kitchen. But the dominant animal in the den is the nine-foot-tall brown bear from Alaska in the corner. “He was standing like that when I shot him, looking at a herd of caribou,” Smith recalls. “He didn’t know what hit him.” He has the creature’s skull, with worn teeth indicating he was about 28 years old. “His teeth were deteriorating, so he would not have lived through another winter,” Smith says.

Hunting has taken him all over the North American continent and around the world. He has shot Arctic caribou on Victoria Island, which is above the 60th parallel and as far north as people actually live. “It was 20 below zero there, dangerously cold,” he says of that trip. He has taken white-tailed deer in Alabama, Dall sheep, bears and mountain goats in Alaska, Russian wild boar in South Carolina, tahr (related to goats and sheep), sika deer and chamois (a species of goat-antelope) in New Zealand.

“You’ve got to be physically fit to track the mountain animals,” says Smith, who is 69. “I was much younger, and my knees were in better shape when I killed those. You might climb 5,000-6,000 feet up a mountain. You’re carrying a backpack and a rifle. I have weights and an exercise machine in my basement, and I work out almost every day. But I don’t climb mountains anymore.”

He considers the elephant one of the most physically demanding beasts to hunt. “You have to walk 10-12 miles a day for two to three weeks, sometimes longer,” he says. “You may track a herd for two or three days, catch up and find no bulls big enough to take. Then you start all over again.”

His trophy room contains several photos of game that were too big to mount, like the Indian buffalo from Argentina and the water buffalo he took in Australia. In 1993, the state of Montana sent him a plaque for shooting the second largest antelope killed there at that time. There’s a musk ox fur stretched over the pool table, and 12 mounts hang on the walls. “You mount them to honor the animal, to remember them,” he says. Smith uses Stone Taxidermy of Leeds for most of his mounts.

He has hunted Africa and Australia for the last 12 years, because he likes the challenge of tracking dangerous game (buffalo, elephant, lion, hippopotamus, crocodile and leopard). “The animal has as good a chance to take you out as you have to get him,” he says. His primary prey now are the elephant and the cape buffalo. He has a mount of the latter over the doorway from his foyer to his trophy room. “The rhinoceros is now on the endangered species list due to poaching, so we can’t hunt them,” he says. “Poachers kill them for the horns, sell them to the Asians, who grind them up and use them as an aphrodisiac.”

Poachers hunt in secret and leave the carcasses, but legitimate hunters donate the meat to local villagers, usually through the outfitters who organize the hunts. “When do-gooders start hollering, ‘Why would you shoot a magnificent animal like the elephant,’ I say it’s no different than shooting a cow,” Smith explains. “That elephant will feed a whole village for weeks or months.” He says it’s against the law for villagers to shoot the elephants because the government makes money off the trophy fees. “There’s not an animal in this house that wasn’t eaten, except for the bear. Brown bears are inedible.”

Even in Alaska, you can’t just leave the meat where you drop the animal. In some cases, Smith has had it processed and shipped home from Alaska, but usually he packs it out. “It took me four days to backpack all the meat out (of camp) when I took that big moose that’s hanging over the fireplace,” he says. “You can’t drive a truck up to get it. The outfitter donated it to the indigenous people and to charities.”

Normally Smith does two or three international hunts a year. Much of the money spent on hunts in the U.S. and abroad goes into animal conservation. “Even in this country, the biggest part of conservation money comes from hunters’ fees,” he says. “Besides, nature has to have checks and balances. Most animals get diseases from interbreeding. If they have no natural predators, they starve.”

Unlike Smith, Gordon Palmgren won’t shoot an elephant, unless it’s a rogue that’s running amuck through villages and fields. “I don’t want to disrupt their family unit,” he says. “They are special.” His wife, Sharla, does not want him to shoot a giraffe. Those are about the only two big-game animals not on display at his office.

In fact, the conference room at Gordon Palmgren Inc., which lays fiber-optic cables, looks like a natural-history museum. Murals on the back and front walls depict an African plain and the face of a rugged mountain, respectively. Painted by Springville’s Joy Varnell (see the October/November 2019 issue of Discover), they form backdrops that make the full-body animals appear to be in their natural habitats. Elephants and a giraffe are painted into the African mural, along with Palmgren’s two sons, depicted as youngsters peeking from behind a tree.

“I took Dane, who is now 30, to Africa when he was younger,” says Palmgren. “He shot a (large species of antelope) when he was 10. Travis, 35, is an artist who has never hunted, but he’ll come up here and draw pictures of the animals.”

Other animals in front of that mural include several types of antelopes, such as a sable, along with two steenboks, two duikers and a musk ox. There’s also a zebra, a lion and lioness, an impala, wart hogs and forest hogs, a bush buck (another type of antelope), a pair of monkeys, some baboons and a 14-foot-long crocodile. An Arizona javelina (type of wild boar) is placed incongruously amid all those African animals, but he doesn’t seem to object. The straw-grass at the base of many mounts has been chewed short by Sylvester, the office’s live feline mascot.

On another African wall are more full-body monkeys and the cape mounts of a rhinoceros, cape buffalo and another sable antelope. “The Safari Club International has a system of scoring your kills by length of their horns,” Palmgren says. “There are three levels: bronze, silver, gold. That sable is the only animal I’ve shot that’s in a (record) book. For a year it was No. 7 in the world.”

A lot of hunters won’t shoot an animal if it’s not a huge, gold-medal trophy, but Palmgren doesn’t hunt to get into record books. “I do it for the fun, the challenge, to see different places,” he says. “I’ve seen a lot of the world.”

On the other two walls hang dozens of cape mounts, such as spiral-horned kudu, a red hartebeest (African antelope), a gemsbok (another type of South African antelope), a moose from British Columbia, several elk out of Colorado, a bison from New Mexico, a water buffalo from Venezuela, a caribou from Greenland, a mountain goat from British Columbia, a tahr and a chamois from New Zealand. Still another wall has full-mounted mountain goats, a tahr and a chamois standing on ledges that jut out from the wall.

His mounts spill over into his office and lobby, too, including a full-body mount of an aoudad (Barbary sheep) shot in Texas and a nyala (spiral-horned antelope of southern Africa). The latter stands in a corner under a pencil drawing of a tiger done by Travis. A zebra skin is displayed on another wall. In his office stands an eight-foot-tall blonde brown bear. Who knew that brown bears are a species that come in various colors? Or that the grizzly is a subspecies of the brown bear? “Grizzlies are inland, whereas brown bears are coastal,” Palmgren points out.

He uses Capps Taxidermy in Demopolis to preserve his trophies. “Mounting them in foreign countries, you don’t know the quality, he says. “It’s not as good as here. Shipping home life-size animals is especially high, so the hide and horns are all you take home to the taxidermist. Generally, you only mount the cape, which is from front shoulder forward. To me, though, with certain animals, you miss so much with just the cape.”

Like Rob Smith, Palmgren, 69, started hunting as a child. His mother gave him a .410 shotgun when he was 12. “We used to hunt squirrel and other small game together,” he says. A big-game hunter for 25 years, he bought his first trip to Africa at a Safari Club International convention in Las Vegas in 1996. He has been to Africa five more times since then. “It’s like potato chips, you can’t do just one,” he says. “It’s such a thrill. It’s the chase and the challenge. You will go back.” He hasn’t been there this year but has spent his spare time developing a piece of hunting property he bought in St. Clair County.

In African countries, governments there require that you have a local guide, called a professional hunter there. Hunters go out in groups that include trackers and skinners. “The 10-day rate varies according to exclusivity of the animal and his dangerousness,” Palmgren says. “It can be $1,500 per day to $3,000-$4,000 for more dangerous animals, such as lions and elephants. Every animal has a trophy fee attached, too. Supply and demand determine those. There are also government fees.”

Although hippopotamuses kill more people than lions in African countries, tracking a lion still is a dangerous proposition. Palmgren found that out the hard way on the trail of a lioness in South Africa. “I had spotted her, then she got away, and I was using binoculars to spot her again,” he recalls. “I walked by a room-sized brush pile, heard growling, then a roar from 12 feet away. She was in that brush pile. I shot her, but I also found out how I would react to a dangerous situation. I didn’t think I would ever quit shaking.”

Joe Wheeler and the brown bear that almost got him.

Joe Wheeler had a similar experience with a blonde brown bear, but it was much more personal than Palmgren’s. The bear was trying to snare him for her lunch and managed to sink one of her powerful claws into his hand.

“I was watching some wolverines and got a funny feeling that something was watching me,” he says. “I turned around and she was in attack mode. I shot her in the mouth, which knocked her down. She got up, and I got off a second shot into her neck, and she went down again.”

 As he was reloading his rifle, her left claw dug into his right hand. Working from instinct, he turned around in the opposite direction to avoid that claw dragging through a ligament. As he did, she slapped him across the back with her other paw. He got off a shot to her heart. She ran 60 yards, forcing him to track her. She was dead when he got to her. “That’s the only female bear I’ve ever shot,” he says. “She’s mounted in the same position as when I first saw her.” She’s crouched in a corner at the top of the stairs in his Gun South Inc. (GSI) office in Trussville.

In a hallway of the first floor, he has another brown bear, a wolf snarling on a tabletop, bobcats fighting over a pheasant and a pair of Alaskan wolverines. “Pound-for-pound, wolverines are the most vicious animal alive,” Wheeler says. (Wolverines resemble small bears but are actually the largest member of the weasel family.) He has a wolf-skin rug stretched out on a wall in the office at GSI. On another wall is a pair of ptarmigan(type of grouse) he shot in Sonora, Mexico.

Wheeler, 77, started hunting rabbits, quail and squirrels with his uncle as a kid. He killed his first deer when he was 14. It had eight-points. “I went to Bud Jones’ house (in Tallapoosa, Ga.) and skinned it there in his back yard, and he mounted it,” Wheeler says. “I still have that mount. It’s probably my favorite.”

He made his first trip to Alaska in 1972, killing a caribou and a moose. He has gone twice a year ever since, sometimes to hunt, sometimes to fish. In addition to bears, wolves and wolverines, he has killed siska deer, pocka squirrels (similar to prairie dogs) and Arctic hare. Due to the pandemic, he probably won’t return this year. He has taken his two brothers, his two stepsons, and several other St. Clair County men with him on several trips. In fact, he took Gordon Palmgren on his first hunt to Alaska and got him his first bear.

“I was a registered guide in Alaska from 1984 to 1998 or 1999,” he says. “Licenses were for five years when I started, but they changed that to three years, and I didn’t get the notice in time, so I accidentally let my license expire. I would have had to re-test, and I didn’t want to do that.”

 An Alaskan hunt usually lasts 17 days and involves a lot of walking. “If it’s a bear hunt, you’ve got to find the bear with a spotting scope,” Wheeler says. “You can see for eight miles through the scope, and if you spot one within five miles, you go after it.”

He has hunted big game in Canada, Montana, Colorado, British Columbia, Alaska, Texas, Mexico and parts of New England. He has been wing-shooting (bird hunting) 15-16 years in a row in Argentina, Nicaragua and Honduras. He has shot spur-wing and Magellan geese in the Yucatán Peninsula, and jack rabbits in Argentina so big that if laid across a horse they would drag the ground. “I tracked one running at 64 mph one night,” he says. “I could not bring it back to mount because of some disease.”

He used to have a lot of mounts in his Pell City Steakhouse, but the women employees there prefer seeing historic photos of the Pell City area, so he obliges them.

In the gunsmithing room at GSI, a wholesale gun dealership, Wheeler has the capes of a mouflon sheep from Austria, an elk from Saskatchewan taken with a bow, and a caribou his stepson, Danny Spann, shot in Alaska.

 “The tips of the mouflon’s horns were worn off from where he rubbed them on rocks so they wouldn’t poke him in the eyes,” Wheeler says. “It’s called ‘grooming.’”

The elk is called a 7×7 because it has seven points on each side of its head.

“Only one caribou in 10,000 has a double shovel (flat, front points), and he’s shot three,” Danny says of Wheeler. “We were fortunate to see tens of thousands of the Mulchatnaherd of caribou in Alaska.”

 Hunters in Alaska are required by the state’s Fish and Game Commission to pack out the meat or face a fine and the possible loss of a guide’s licenses. “One time we had all the meat in elk bags and a bear got some of it in camp overnight,” he says. “Fish and Game did not want to accept that we hadn’t hauled it all out, but I had made photos before and after.” Like Rob Smith and Gordon Palmgren, he always gives away the meat. “We killed 125 geese in one day in Nicaragua,” he recalls. “We put them on a wall in the town square, and they were gone by the next day. The natives got all of them.”

Asked what he likes about hunting, he cites being “out in nature, seeing things, making a lot of friends.” Take the bird boys who pick up the fowl that hunters shoot. “We (he and his friends) have gotten to see them grow up in Nicaragua,” Wheeler says. “We do a lot of personal things for them. We’ve sent them money for school supplies, candy, bought them shoes.”

He also likes teaching young boys to shoot, the way his uncle taught him, and he taught his stepsons. He’ll even take friends’ grandsons and nephews hunting, showing them how to track, read the signs, keep quiet and still, be patient and to enjoy the outdoors the way he does.

Wheeler probably will miss his 2020 trips to Alaska, thanks to COVID-19. He will still be able to hunt birds and small game on his own property in St. Clair, where he has a hunting club. After all, as he, Smith and Palmgren keep emphasizing, it’s not about the kill or the size of the trophy. It’s all about the hunt.

Gateway Community Garden

Growing a bounty to serve others

Story by Carol Pappas
Photos by Carol Pappas
and Graham Hadley and Glenn Wilson

Much like the single seed planted years earlier that grows into the towering oak tree offering shade and comfort to next generations, today’s Pell City Gateway Community Garden thrives as an example of what dogged determination, a patch of dirt and a smattering of seeds can become.

In 2013, a handful of Pell City citizens envisioned a garden for their community. In that group were Merry and Dave Bise, Renee Lilly, Lisa Phillips, Kelly and Sheree Wilkerson, and other community volunteers. Taking root on the old Avondale Mills property, the garden on a quarter-acre plot was small, but productive – just like their dream. Early help came from Pell City Civitans, which provided the nonprofit status they needed for grants, and the City of Pell City, which provided the patch of earth they needed to grow their bounty, and it began to sprout.

Seven years later – in a new location thanks to St. Simon Peter Episcopal Church – and a growing army of volunteers, Gateway Community Garden is reaping the benefits of what it sowed by helping others.

Early mornings and late afternoons nearly all year long, you’ll find a group of “do-gooders,” city dwellers on a mission, toiling in the dirt, nurturing their crops to feed the hungry.

Row upon row tells the story of their bounty – potatoes, okra, squash, bell peppers, corn, tomatoes, butter peas and pinkeye purple hull peas in summer. Collard greens, cabbage, turnip greens, broccoli, sweet potatoes and more okra emerge in the fall.

Fruit trees and bushes abound – apples, blueberries, blackberries – a future dream now in its fledgling stage. An irrigation system is in place. A greenhouse, courtesy of Master Gardeners, has been erected. And on any given day when the sun is out, chances are these gardeners are, too, watching over their harvest like protective parents tending to their young.

Debbie Smith, a longtime gardener and board member, calls it “God’s blessing. It is always amazing to me that you plant a seed in the ground and get this beautiful plant that feeds others.”

Lisa Phillips logging hours

Her experience as a gardener is rewarding in the way she is able to use her education background to teach others how to plant, grow and harvest. She describes the end result – whether it’s someone enjoying the garden’s solitude and beauty or actually laboring in the soil as a “healing and restorative garden. It works on both ends.”

Worth Barham, project manager who fellow volunteers have labeled ‘CEO,’ agrees. “It’s a wonderful experience,” he said, noting that the whopping two tons of food grown there so far have made their way to good homes in the Pell City Christian Love Pantry, Pell City Senior Citizens Center and Lincoln Food Pantry.

“Everything is based on the wonderful volunteers we have,” Barham said. Bringing different skillsets to the organization, they have been able to write grants, develop an educational component, bring community organizations into the fold, design the garden’s physical future and of course, grow food for the needy. St. Clair Co-op has provided many of the plants. David Wadsworth brings his tractor to clear the ground for planting, and Master Gardener Tom Terry tills the soil.

“Without the grants we have received, we would not be where we are today,” Barham said. “Without our volunteers, we would have no organization at all.”

Lisa Phillips became involved early on – first as a Pell City Civitan, then as a gardener. In addition to the Civitans lending their 501(c)(3) nonprofit status to the fundraising effort, the club has provided access for the handicapped and special needs, like accessible paths for wheelchairs and lower tables for produce.

To be a part of it has been “a great feeling,” said Phillips. “And I think it has been great for the community.”

“I am awestruck at what we have been able to accomplish with a small group of folks,” said Linda Tutwiler, another board member. Volunteers only number a dozen or so on a regular basis. “I don’t think any of us envisioned what we could accomplish in such a short time.”

In 2017, it moved from Avondale to a 5-to-6-acre plot given to them to use by the Episcopal church across the street. And that is when the garden grew to its next level and beyond. First helped by a Community Foundation of Greater Birmingham grant and then a Community Foundation of Northeast Alabama contribution as part of its Sacred Places grant program, the garden began to really take shape.

Three years ago, Barham said, the garden grew 820 pounds of fresh produce to give to those in need in Pell City and St. Clair County. Last year, it was 3,600 pounds. Today, their harvest tips the scales at 4,000 pounds.

Nearby is a newly constructed nature trail. A handcrafted, oversized sitting bench underneath the trees welcomes one and all as a place for quiet reflection. A journal to record thoughts is there, as is a miniature reading library. Peace, tranquility and reflection are key to this sacred space.

A greenhouse is home to trees that grow Meyer lemons and will soon grow plants from seed. A shed painted with brightly colored sunflowers holds tools of the trade and a work log, where volunteers record their hours for grants.

On a Saturday morning in November, a group of Scouts marveled at gardener Laura Wilson’s lessons of how sweet potatoes are grown, how to pick a turnip or cabbage leaf. They ran through garden patches with prize in hand – a freshly picked turnip – with smiles almost as wide as they were tall.

They earned a badge that day. But more important, gardeners will quickly tell you, is they learned the value of growing a garden with your own hands and what it can provide in life – not just for you, but for others.

Renee Lilly, one of the founders, talked of the personal rewards reaped in those lessons for her and her husband. “It’s a wonderful experience for me. My husband is involved, too. It’s a great thing for the community, and I’m excited the word is finally getting out,” she said, encouraging others to join them in the effort. “It really does take a village.”

Pickleball?

It’s all the new rage

Story by Eryn Ellard

Photos by Carol Pappas

The winter chill is starting to wear off, and those sweet, sweet, fleeting days of spring are upon us again. For outdoor lovers, there’s a new game in town — pickleball. Combining tennis, badminton and ping-pong, pickleball has become one of America’s fastest growing recreational sports.

The pickleball craze, which first began in the Sun Belt region about a decade ago, has made its way to St. Clair County, and residents are coming in droves to secure a court every day at the newly renovated Pell City Civic Center.

Tennis pro of Pell City Sarah Stewart has taught tennis for over 20 years and played the sport her entire life. Her heart belongs to the sport, as she has molded her career around her love for the game and the students she coaches – and she is amazed at the turnout the Civic Center has had for pickleball.

Stewart said several of the tennis courts have been taped off to create special pickleball courts, which unlike their tennis counterparts — make the court much shorter. “This game really isn’t your grandma’s sport, it gets competitive and is definitely a great workout,” Stewart said. “There are a lot of people who don’t enjoy tennis, but love pickleball.”

The game itself has a quirky set of rules — for example, players need not find themselves in “the kitchen,” otherwise the rules of the game are quick and easy to learn. Doubles are most popular, although singles are also popular. An entire match usually lasts around 15 minutes. Players also do not have to worry about expensive gear, the sport is played with an oversized ping pong paddle and a whiffle ball, which according to Stewart is another attractive feature about the game. “You can get a paddle and a package of whiffle balls at any sporting goods store for less than $30 and be ready to go, where other racqueted sports can become costly with equipment.”

The game is simple, keep hitting the ball back and forth until someone makes a mistake. The game ends when the first team reaches 11 points and is ahead of the opponent by two points.

There also is a seven-foot area directly on each side of the net, which is considered a “no volley zone,” and in pickleball this is called “the kitchen.” The reason for having this badminton spin, “the kitchen,” is to keep players from making slam shots over the net, resulting in players making more planned out shots. It also adds more margin for error for the opposing team.

Many teams will make up their own penalties for stepping into “the kitchen,” from loss of point to forfeiting the match. Like tennis, both players serve once before handing the serve to the other team.

A player must allow the whiffle ball to bounce at least once before hitting it back on the first serve. The initial serve must be under-handed, as well as all other contact with the ball, and the hit must be no higher than the player’s bellybutton and clear the net and “kitchen.”

After the match’s initial serve and bounce, players can hit the ball back and forth without allowing it to bounce again. A point can also only be scored by the serving team. 

For Smith, she enjoys watching some of the more advanced teams making calculated decisions, with their partners. “It definitely is a mental game,” she said. “Even though the court is much smaller than a tennis court, you have to be ready and be just as quick.”

She also added that the health benefits are great. “One of my regulars reserved a court, and they played for the longest time. When he was finished playing several matches, he was surprised to see he had taken in over 7,000 steps.”  But there is a less amount of running, jarring and straining to big muscle groups, unlike in tennis. “I can definitely see how it is so popular … because anyone can play. It is a quick game, easy to pick up, and it is far less strenuous on the body than other rec sports,” Smith said.

Pell City local Rodney White plays the sport with his neighbor as his partner for doubles. White said they both enjoy the sport because it is low impact, but also competitive. Holding the number 1 spot as reigning pickleball champions of First United Methodist Churches of Greater Birmingham, the Gherkins said they are so glad the city has updated its facilities to include the sport, and are so happy to hear the upcoming news of an indoor court coming to the Civic Center as well.

 “An indoor court will be just what we need in this Alabama heat,” White said. “We didn’t get near the practice we needed last summer to get ready for tournament play due to the heat and humidity—it was brutal.”

The Pell City City Council also approved funding to replace the flooring in the multi-purpose room, which will allow for an inside pickleball court. Civic Center Manager Valerie Painter said they are so excited about the new flooring and the expansion of activities the Civic Center will be able to offer. The new flooring is called Elasti-Plus, which according to Painter, is much more conducive to indoor exercise, and still looks good. 

“It has a cushioned feel and will give us the ability to expand our class offerings to include higher impact classes that put more strain on the knees or joints, such as dance classes or High Impact Aerobics,” Painter said.  In addition, a pickleball court will be painted on the floor which will give the community access to indoor play.

“We are thrilled to be able to offer the community two outdoor courts at the Tennis Center and soon we will be able to offer an indoor court as well,” Painter said. 

“The addition of these three courts goes right along with the City’s desire to make the Civic Center a more active space that offers a little something for everyone at a very affordable price.”

Currently the Civic Center does not have any paddles or balls, so players need to bring their own, and call and reserve a court for $5.

Big Canoe Creek

Kayaking in nature’s splendor

Story by Linda Long

Submitted photos

Get out the paddles, the oars and canoes. Don’t forget fishing poles, tackle boxes and bait. Throw in those binoculars for some serious birdwatching. Some have even spotted an eagle or two. Oh, and don’t forget the sunscreen.

Folks in and around St. Clair County are heralding the arrival of spring and all it has to offer. Tops on just about everybody’s favorites “to do” list is Big Canoe Creek. The treasured waterway runs through Ashville and Springville, providing adventures not only for kayaks and canoes, but also for fishing enthusiasts, birdwatchers and anybody who’s seeking to unplug and unwind.

For Meg Hays, who along with husband Perry own Big Canoe Creek Outfitters in Springville, getting out on the creek is almost a spiritual experience.

“We offer a trip down the creek where people get to experience nature in a different way … a way that a lot a lot of people never get to see,” Hays says. “It’s peaceful here. It’s quiet. We see all kinds of wildlife, a very diverse group of fish and birds, egrets, owls, hawks. I mean all kinds of birds. 

We even have a couple of bald eagles that live around here.”

She believes the creek’s solitude is a big draw for many visitors. “You don’t pass any civilization. You’re just out there in the woods.

Paddling the creek provides a great family time to enjoy nature together. “I think that’s why a lot of people have come to see us.”

Randall Vann, owner of Yak tha Creek in Ashville, couldn’t agree more. “We’re all outdoors people here at my house. We’ve always enjoyed being outdoors, whether it’s on the water or in the woods. We’re passionate about it. We spend a lot of our downtime enjoying the nature that God has given us.”

Vann gives his business address as “off the side of the road, on Highway 231, at the bridge coming into Ashville.” Folks seem to have no trouble following those directions. On a weekend day from April through Labor Day, cars are lined up at the bridge, their passengers ready for an adventure on the creek.

“It’s about a three to three-and-a-half-hour trip,” said Vann, “although there is no time limit. We’ve got people who come just to fish. They’ll stay from eight in the morning till dark.”

But for the most part, Vann says, they come to “pretty much, just enjoy the creek, the scenery and the weather. They get in their boats and may have to paddle a little bit to stay straight, but typically, they just get out there with a Bluetooth speaker listening to music with a group of friends. They just hang out. They’ll find a place by the side of the creek to go swimming. It’s just a place to relax. Sometimes we get a mom and dad and a couple of kids, and the kids like to race their parents to see who gets back first.”

Yak tha Creek opened in 2016. Since that time, according to Vann, “we’ve grown and grown and grown. We started out with 12 little store-bought boats and one pickup truck. Now, we can handle about 60 people at a time,” he said. “We have a passenger van to haul people, and we run three pickup trucks all weekend long.”

He says visitors come from all across Alabama.

Vann’s success seems to reflect a national trend in kayaking. According to a recent report in

Time, kayaking has risen to one of the fastest growing sports in the nation. It has grown to more than 8 million active participants, marking a substantial increase from 3.5 million just 10 years ago.

Hays isn’t surprised by the boat’s growing popularity. “Anybody can kayak,” she said. “One of the beauties of this section of the creek that we’re on is that it is very beginner friendly. We’ve had so many newbies come through. They had never been in a kayak before, and they loved it. They learned the boat and how to paddle and were able to make it to the end. They said they couldn’t wait to come back.”

There is also, no age limit on who can paddle the creek. “I’ve sent them down as young as six and as old as 78,” she recalled. “We also had a 2-year-old ride the creek in a tandem boat, where the parent paddles in the back.”

The Outfitters have recently opened four primitive campsites, complete with picnic tables, fire rings and tent areas. The business is open year-round, seven days a week. Reservations are $35 for a single kayak; $50 for a double. The shuttle fee with your own boat is $10.

Yak tha Creek is open weekends, April through Labor Day, and weekdays with prior arrangements. Cost is $30 per kayak and $5 for your own boat.

Discounts are offered to the military, nurses, teachers, fire and police.

Group discounts are available with five or more renting.

Doug Morrison, president of the conservation group, Friends of Canoe Creek, has said, “paddling the creek is giving people a chance to explore, to stop and see, if they will pay attention. They’ll see that when you paddle up a creek, you tend to observe nature more than just walking outside in your backyard. When you paddle up a creek, you will see all kinds of creatures. In today’s society there’s just not enough outdoor recreation. People are too plugged into their electronic devices.”

Wester Farms

Odenville home to four-legged world champions

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Mike Callahan
Contributed Photos

As horse farms go, Wester Farms in Odenville doesn’t look out of the ordinary.

A 21-stall barn houses the horses and their tack. Several horse trailers are parked nearby. Huge round hay bales and several square bales are stacked in a slightly smaller barn next door, along with bales of pine shavings to line the stall floors.

The usual farm equipment is scattered about, such as tractors, horse trailers, a backhoe, a telehandler with 40-foot telescoping lift, a skid steer with a fork and a walk-behind loader that is used to clean stalls.

It’s not a glamorous place, but it is home to two very glamorous horses who have set records in the racking horse industry. When High Sword won the World Grand Champion title in October, Cadillac by Jazz won the Reserve World Champion title at the same show in Decatur. Roy Wester owns both horses, marking the first time in the history of the racking horse industry that horses owned by the same person took the two top spots at the championship show.

High Sword, ridden by trainer Jamie Lawrence of Vinemont, was World Grand Champion in 2014 and 2015, too, making him the only horse in racking horse history to win that title three times. Roy rode Cadillac by Jazz in the championship competition.

Both horses competed in qualifying classes to get to the championship level. “These two horses won separate qualifying classes prior to competing for the World Grand Championship that crowned the world’s best racking horse at the 48th annual Racking Horse World Celebration in Decatur,” he says.

Racking horses are derived from the Tennessee Walking Horse, and most are registered as both walking and racking. About 80,000 racking horses are in the industry’s national registry, Racking Horse Breeders’ Association of America (RHBAA), which began in 1971 and is located in Decatur.

During show season, which is April through November, Wester works with the horses four or five days a week. He participates in about 20 shows per season. During the rest of the year, colts and unfinished horses are made ready for the next season. He raises about 20 of his own colts and buys 10-20 more starts that he trains and re-sells.

“It’s a lot of tough work for trainers and all involved, a lot of late nights, and you don’t get many days off,” he says of the racking horse business. “But I just love it.”

At 70 years old, Wester still mounts a horse from the ground, as opposed to using a mounting block, because he has been doing it all his life. He confesses, however, that he lowers the stirrups to mount, then raises them to their proper length.

His two sons show along with him, and his wife, Joan, goes to shows and cheers them on, helps with advertising and is the wardrobe mistress. “She dresses me,” Wester says. But she does not ride any more. Wester has a couple of employees that help train and show, and some of the horses are trained by Jamie Lawrence.

As many as 24-30 horses occupy the farm at foaling time, which occurs in the fall and in the spring. Only 30 percent of his foals are born in the fall, because it’s too expensive to winter them. Wester’s horses go through 200 round bales and 2,500 square bales per year, along with 80 pounds of pellets and corn per week, as it is.

“That does not include 100 round bales for the cows and 22 horses we keep in Cherokee County,” says Wester, who owns his and his wife’s family farms there.

Retired from Arlington Construction Co. in Birmingham, for which he built 50,000 apartment units, until last year, Wester showed as an amateur because he does not train horses he does not own. “An amateur can show in any class, but a professional, who trains horses for other people, can only show in the open classes,” he explains. “I get a lot of people every month who call wanting me to train their show horses, but I don’t do that.”

He has won amateur Grand Champion on Cadillac by Jazz three times and the men’s amateur four times. “Jazz has won more blues (first-place ribbons) in his career than any horse I have ever shown,” Wester says. “He was also a world champion Tennessee Walking Horse in Shelbyville prior to starting his career as a racking horse in 2014. He has been showing since he was four, and he will be 14 next spring.”

Another one of Wester’s horses, 16-year-old Tears, was the 2016 World Grand Champion racking horse. “I rode him myself, and I won three amateur world championships on him and three amateur world grand championships,” he says. “I have shown Cadillac myself since 2015 and now train him here. Both Tears and Cadillac have been winning all their lives.”

Wester got the horse bug from his father, who raised Tennessee Walkers with S.W. Beech Stables in Tennessee. “We didn’t show, we just got them ready, and they (the stables) sold them for show work,” he says. “I deal mainly with racking horses on pads with no action device, which is a requirement for the RHBAA World Grand Championship.”

Some of his stallions, including the two latest champions, go to Campbell Stables in Cullman during breeding seasons (fall and spring). “They do our shipping and breeding,” Wester says.  “We don’t live-cover any mares at the breeding barn. It’s all through artificial insemination, except for the stallions who stay at my barn (Spinzone, Tears and Gen’s Rocky Road).”

Another winner is now enjoying life as a pet for his granddaughter and a companion for mares and their foals. The 15-year-old sorrel gelding is José On Call, and Roy won the 2012 men’s show pleasure championship on him. That horse’s show career ended when Wester’s 9-year-old granddaughter claimed José as her own. She’s 16 now, and José is still her horse.

“She just pets him and rides him, she doesn’t show him,” Wester says. “I made a lot of money on that deal, didn’t I?”

Namaste

Goat Yoga more than just a craze for Springville couple and their farm

Story by Carol Pappas

Photos by Kelsey Bain

Make the turn off Springville’s Shanghai Road into CareDan Farm and it’s as if you have entered a magical world where animals rule, and the rest of us are lucky enough to be part if it – if only for a day.

The gang’s all there: Nigerian Dwarf goats Charlotte, Rose, Rosebud, twins Spur and Kid Rock and two new babies, Peanut and Cashew. There’s Rooster and Daisy, the horses, of course, and a lovable pig named Pancake. Talk about free range, the chickens meander around these parts to their hearts’ content while ducks splash playfully in a nearby puddle.

It’s just another day at the farm for them, but for those arriving by the carload, it’s an experience they won’t soon forget.

And that’s precisely the point, say Danny and Caren Davidson, who open up their Springville farm to young and old, friends, family and strangers from near and far, curious about a thing called goat yoga.

“It’s fun when people come out and do things they don’t typically do,” says Caren, who calls their fledgling business, My Farm Day, the perfect moniker, adds Danny. “Whether it’s fishing, riding horses, playing with the goats, we wanted people to have a ‘my farm day’ for them.”

Their first venture in providing that personalized farm experience is a craze sweeping the country, goat yoga. And on a summer Saturday morning, the rain didn’t seem to dampen the spirit of the day. Quite the opposite. Guests headed to the barn for shelter, where yoga mats and a menagerie of four-legged hosts awaited.

Certified yoga instructor Nancy Hunter of Springville explains her foray into today’s goat variety of this ancient practice. Caren had seen a post on Facebook about Nancy’s Yoga classes in Springville and at her studio in Oneonta.

Caren called and asked if she would be interested in teaching Yoga with goats, and Nancy said ‘Yes, I’m game. I’ll try it.’

“Caren is so amazing,” Nancy says. “These are her children,” she adds, motioning to the goats – old and new – the horses nearby, the baby chicks just introduced into the class (much to the delight of its students) and a host of other animals making up the zoo-like atmosphere.

In the beginning …

 It wasn’t always like this – a farm couple just working and sharing the land. They were from the big city.

But her grandparents had a farm in Tennessee when she was growing up. “I fell in love with the farm and the animals.” Charlotte, one of the goats, is named for her grandmother.

Danny and Caren grew up in Vestavia Hills and graduated from Vestavia High, dated at Ole Miss and married.

He served in the Army in San Antonio for a few years, and they moved back to Alabama when he finished service.

They bought property across from Matthews Manor and lived there for nine years in Argo. “I love to be outdoors,” Caren says. “He loves to build stuff. We moved in with some dogs and within a year, we added horses and a couple of more dogs. Our dream was more land and more animals.”

They found what they were looking for – the house with 69 acres bordering Little Canoe Creek – in Springville. “When we pulled in the driveway, four chicks came running out to meet us,” Caren recalls. “I thought, ‘I’m sold. This is awesome.’”

“We bought a tractor and few other things, and that’s how we got here.”

By day, Danny is about to begin a new job teaching Algebra at Moody High School. Caren is director of human resources at a Birmingham law firm.

“Because we grew up in the city, we didn’t know much about farm life. Fortunately, we’ve had some great neighbors and friends who have taught us a lot about barn and fence building, drainage, pond maintenance, etc.,” Caren explains. 

“What we didn’t learn from them, we learned from books or YouTube. Our master shower is frequently turned into an infirmary for injured chickens and ducks. We continue to learn most everything the hard way, but because it’s just the two of us, we have a lot of fun living the ‘farm life,’ which is a big departure from our ‘regular life.’” 

The Davidsons don’t have children, but they have a very close family with lots of cousins, nieces, nephews who enjoy ‘Farm Days’ at Uncle Danny and Aunt Caren’s farm, hence the name, CareDan Farm. “Farm Days,” she says, “consist of riding horses, playing in the creek, fishing, gathering eggs from the coop, riding 4-wheelers, Gator rides, canoeing, hitting floating golf balls into the pond and whatever other activities Danny dreams up. Evenings on the farm generally involve more fishing, campfires, watching football and listening to music on the back porch.”

On the farm, Danny’s job at first was that of goat wrangler. He is self-proclaimed “head goat wrangler,” and has a name tag to prove it.

He’s the one always bringing home the goats. She’s more practical. The night before this class, he brought home two more without telling her. But she couldn’t resist, it was easy to see, as she held them like babies, bottle fed them and sported a never-ending smile as they frolicked among the yoga guests in the barn.

The driving force

The genesis of this day, where smiles, laughter and squeals of excitement are quickly becoming tradition, came from an unlikely source – a tragedy involving Caren’s father, Dr. Cary Petry. He had suffered from depression and anxiety for years and sadly took his own life in 2017.

“The couple of years leading up to that event were quite stressful, as I tried to provide my dad with encouragement, support and different treatment options. After his death, I found myself just going through the motions most weeks. I’d spend all my energy during the week trying to do my job, and I’d use the weekends on our farm for quiet time in hopes of recharging for the next week. Being outdoors, surrounded by all of God’s amazing creations, was the medicine I needed, but it was still just a repetitious cycle week after week.”  

On a Sunday morning a year ago, her mother called as Danny and Caren were walking out the door to church. “She told me to turn on the news because there was a story coming on about a lady in Oregon who held goat yoga classes on her farm. I watched the story and couldn’t stop thinking about the satisfaction she had gained by sharing her farm and love for goats with others. I wondered if I could regain some happiness, and perhaps help others, by sharing my farm and animals with others.”  

When she took the next step and called Nancy, “Surprisingly, Nancy had actually participated in a goat yoga class and was eager to try teaching one. So, for my 46th birthday, I invited a few close friends and family to attend a goat yoga birthday party at the farm. I figured they wouldn’t turn me down since it was my birthday. I had never done yoga before, but I was excited to combine so many things I love into one activity – friends, family, animals, outdoors and some much-needed exercise.

“The goats kept escaping the temporary fence we had hastily put up and didn’t seem too interested in the yoga, but it was fun nonetheless.”

They experimented with two more classes that fall before deciding to get serious about it. “Well, as serious as you can get about goat yoga,” Caren adds. “I felt like goat yoga was the perfect way for me to share our farm with other people who may be in need of some laughter and a break from their stressful lives.”  

Where there’s a will …

“In January 2019, our two goat mommas, Charlotte and Rose, had three kids: Spur, Kid Rock and Rosebud. And in March, My Farm Day hosted its first official goat yoga class with our five goats.  Since then, we’ve had classes nearly every Saturday morning.”  Classes are limited to 12 people because the goat to human ratio is critical to participant’s enjoyment of the activity.  

With the emotions of her father’s passing still fresh, “I got excited about it. It was something we could focus on and find a way to let other people enjoy the farm. It’s a different concept. It’s silly. It lets you forget about all your troubles for a while. Life is tough. If you can take a few minutes to do something you don’t always do, that’s fun.”

She talks of mental health issues as an epidemic facing the country and sees the farm as a means of coping. “It’s hard to get the help you need. I want to help people laugh. That makes me happy.”

The years leading up to her father’s death “were really rough for us. Every weekend, I would be here and recharge. It made me feel better to be with the animals.”

Her father was an animal lover and when he was at the farm with his dog, Rowdy, his rare smile would appear and is a memory she savors. It is also a memory that sparked the adventure Caren and Danny are now on. And Rowdy now acts as greeter, escorting guests up and down the drive.

What’s in a name

They decided to name the business “My Farm Day” with the idea that “everyone needed ‘their’ day on the farm, just like when we had family out for impromptu farm days. We figured we’d start My Farm Day with a little goat yoga, and maybe later, expand it to include other activities like fly-fishing lessons, barnyard parties, etc.,” she explains. 

Goat yoga is the first real leg of that journey. And so far, the reviews have visitors coming back for more.

As the class gets under way on this particular Saturday, Caren and Danny place the newest baby goats on the backs of the participants who could hardly stifle non-stop giggles with the little ones prancing around, eventually leaping off as if the back were a high dive.

The newest goat crew will make their debut in yoga class in a few months. They are partial to crawling atop a human back or two or across their stomach as they lie motionless except for the full body stretch they are attempting.

“The older goats now are like teenagers. They have a mind of their own,” Danny said as the older goats wandered around the yoga class, going underneath, over and around outstretched bodies, occasionally pausing for a snack of hedges and vines nearby. Most did manage a snuggle or two with their human guests, enticing more than a few pets, hugs and rubs behind the ear from them.

One family arrived as part of a surprise for Jimmy Waldrop for Father’s Day. “He loves goats, but we live in the city limits (of Hueytown), and we can’t have them,” said Waldrop’s wife, Dana. He had mentioned he wanted to start yoga, and when she saw My Farm Day’s goat yoga, “it was perfect.”

Waldrop, a nurse at UAB, enjoyed his Father’s Day surprise outing. “I like getting out in a farm atmosphere, and I like goats. I don’t know why, I just do.”

Lana Clayton of Ashville is a return guest. “I fell in love with it, and I came back again and again.”

Farm living is the life for them

“Danny and I have had so much fun and met so many wonderful people during goat yoga classes.  We love it because it allows us to spend time outdoors together, with our animals, while sharing our love of nature with others,” Caren concludes. 

“People who don’t typically interact with farm animals, get a small dose of farm life, while getting in some terrific stretching and exercise. Nancy loves teaching the class because it introduces yoga to people who may not otherwise try a yoga class in a traditional setting.”  

Participants are encouraged to laugh and take pictures throughout class. “As we say, ‘It’s a little bit of yoga and a whole lot of goat.’” 

After class Caren and Danny help people pose for pictures with the goats. “Sometimes we have chickens join the class, and our pig, Pancake, has been known to shove her way in to the ‘yoga studio’ for a little attention. Every class is different, so it’s fun ‘work’ for us.”

Underneath a sign that appropriately says, Attitude is everything. Pick a good one, a table of wares displays Caren-designed goat yoga t-shirts and hats. Even the fresh eggs they sell have their own stamp on it – Laid With Love – a creation by Danny.

 “But it’s not about making money,” Caren says, “it’s about giving people an experience that’s a break from ‘normal’ life.” As one participant told her, “I found today that baby goats are the cure for nearly anything.”

So, what’s next for this farm-loving, farm-sharing couple? “It is our goal to later, when we retire, use our farm in ways to help people who are hurting,” Caren said. “Goat yoga is just our first baby step.”  

Editor’s note: More information about the farm and goat yoga is at myfarmday.com.