Balsa Bud

When you’re sitting at home hiding from Coronavirus, you’re already on edge, so a package with a return address of “Bud: Rockwood, TN” might be cause for alarm. I figured it likely wasn’t a form of bioterrorism, but there existed the distinct possibility that inside I’d find some moonshine or possibly some homemade taxidermy.

To my pleasant surprise, it was neither of those things. Instead, it was a generous package of East Tennessee balsa, from Bud Strader, aka “Wesley’s pretty daddy.”

I’d interviewed Bud last year for an Outdoor Life article about his region’s luremaking history, in which he, his family and his neighbors played a substantial role. While I normally hate talking on the telephone, this article was one of those enjoyable rabbit holes where one call led to another, which led to another, and before you knew it I’d talked to 10 Tennesseans in an evening. Bud must not have hated the finished product because we’ve kept in touch ever since and now he gifted me this assortment.

As soon as I find out which ones are the money baits I plan to find an open boat ramp and put them to use. After all, the world may be crumbling around us, but it’s the perfect time of year to throw a flat side.