Rawhide

~ This article first appeared in The Leader-Vindicator newspaper. ~

I love to reflect on the cascading effects of decisions.  Wherever I am, I’m here because one idea bumped into another, and then another, leading me down a trail of destinations at which I never would’ve arrived without first encountering the previous, thus linking one action to an unrelated result further down the road.

This story begins with my interest in textiles.  Fabric and food are more closely related to each other than is commonly believed, and it seems certain to me that we cannot successfully carry the local food discussion into the future without introducing the concept of local cloth.  I follow with interest the domestic textile market in all its forms, from very small cotton growers who are making clothing in California to shepherds in Montana marketing wool cold-weather gear to large scale family operated field-to-fabric cotton mills in Alabama.  There is even an outfit selling Bison fiber hats, socks, scarves, etc.  These folks are completely changing the paradigm of home goods from one of imported indifference to farm-specific connections.

We aren’t growing much cotton in Clarion, but that doesn’t mean we’re out of the game.  What we do create in abundance is cowhide.  The leather industry has consolidated and collapsed to such an extraordinary extent that the hides peeled off our carcasses have little or no monetary value and even less societal value: Beef customers do not contemplate at all the hide that is a guaranteed byproduct of their steak.  It’s totally invisible.

I would like to change that.  Our region can support a textile industry.  Hence, we dipped our toes into the local leather market by having several of our hides tanned so we can create products from them for sale.  The decision created a flurry of discussion as people faced for the first time the reality that what we use and what we eat can come from the same place.  Reactions were mixed and rather extreme on both ends of the spectrum, which I take as an indication that we’ve hit on an important topic that will not disappear anytime soon.  Come on, Clarion, let’s make this happen.

And now a bump.  Different direction.

Local leather attracted people who are interested in making things.  They cannot help but swarm around a topic of craftsmanship, as is the process of tanning hides.  People who make things are wildly curious, and from that curiosity came the subject of rawhide.  It can be made, I am told, with nothing more than moving water and time.

Bump.  From idea to experiment: I decided to try making rawhide.

Henry and I sunk a fine deerskin into a deep pool in the creek near my parents’ house.  It will remain submerged all winter.  We anchored it to the bottom using large stones so our project does not wash away with spring flooding.  The theory goes that cold moving water and a lack of oxygen will prevent rot, but the more delicate hair follicles will loosen their grip and aid the process of hair removal.  In May when the sun is gaining strength we will dredge our prize from the bottom, scrape off the hair, and stretch what remains on a wooden frame to dry in the sun.  Our objective is to create stiff and durable skin known as rawhide.  I do not yet know what we will use it for.  The only thing I am certain of is that a strong stomach must be a requirement, for I cannot imagine that the thing plucked from the water after a long winter will be in any way a delight to the senses.  Lunch will be delayed or possibly eliminated entirely on the day we decide to go “fishing”.

If all goes well and we do indeed find success in creating hard hide it will be necessary to soften the skin so it is useful.  I am told that Native women chewed hides cured in this manner before turning them into clothing, baskets, etc.  Thus far I have found painfully few volunteers to undertake the task but perhaps someone will come around in the ensuing weeks.  We are living the “experience” culture, after all.  Maybe I should charge people to do it.

I wouldn’t have guessed that learning about cotton over a year ago would lead me to stand knee deep in a freezing creek pinning deerhide to the bottom.  Yet here we are, and I’m happy to have arrived at this destination.  It gives us a sense of anticipation – Henry and I always check our spot to ensure nothing came loose from the bottom.  I’ll follow up with the results later this year, and who knows where that discussion will lead?

Bump, and away we go!