Awhile back, one of the greeters at church whose daughter was getting married was telling me about the excursion to buy his suit for the wedding.

When asked why he was not wearing a tux’ for the occasion, he replied “I think it’s on my bucket list that I will never wear a tuxedo for anything.”

That got me to thinking; there are numerous things that I too will never do, so why not come up with “an inverse bucket list” of things in the outdoors that I simply never want to do.

Bear in mind, the items on this list reflect only my opinion, are listed in no particular order and are possibly subject to change given the circumstances.

I will never milk a skunk!

Pure skunk essence is in high demand by trapping lure manufacturers, and is also used in minute amounts as a carrier in perfume to hold the scent and help it last longer.

Lots of trappers extract the essence from skunks they catch by inserting a small hypodermic needle into the scent glands and carefully sucking out the essence, then depositing it into some sort of sealed glass container.

I thoroughly admire trappers who do this as they are going the extra mile to harvest and use all parts of those amazing critters, but I’ll probably never do it myself.

I’m often like a bull-in-a-china-closet and in looking at the process of extracting the essence from a skunk, all I see are endless possibilities for the entire adventure to go south.

I will never keep a carp for table fare.

Big, strong and built like aquatic tanks with scales, carp are possibly second only to wipers as the hardest fighting fish found in Kansas waters, and avid carp fisherman would probably argue with that.

I found the International Carp Fishing Association, the American Carp Fishing Association and various other state organizations, all dedicated to the sport of catch-and-release carp tournament fishing. The guys and gals of these clubs are as infatuated with carp fishing as any bass or walleye tournament fishermen.

Once again, I thoroughly respect these folks for their appreciation of a creature that’s often known as a trash fish and has over the years been the brunt of more jokes and ridicule than congress. However, given the number of other fine-eating fish found in Kansas, I’ll probably never keep one for dinner. We just got home after spending three days fishing Lake Waconda at Glen Elder, and now have numerous meals of crappie and walleye in the freezer…I rest my case.

I will never eat possum or grubs.

I have tasted numerous kinds of wild game meat, including bear, beaver, raccoon and bobcat, and most taste amazingly good, though bear and raccoon are slightly greasy.

I guess opossum is also edible and in fact is considered classy cuisine in some parts of the country. In response to the suggestion of eating possum, I once heard someone say “No I will never eat possum; I’ve seen too many of them crawl out of a rotting carcass of some sort.”

My sentiments exactly; possums are four legged vultures and to me eating one would be no different than eating a vulture.

So no, I will never eat possum!... Likewise with grubs; I watch the survival shows and see the guys fishing big fat grubs out of trees and rotten logs, hear them tell how tasty and crunchy they are roasted over an open fire, and listen to them rave about all the protein and nutrients they provide a hungry person.

Sorry, but I think I’d rather chew off my left foot! If God had wanted me to eat grubs, He would have given me feathers or a white stripe down my back.

I will never spend another winter night in a tiny camping trailer.

When I was just a kid, probably in my early twenties, I accepted an older coworker’s invitation to go deer hunting with him in Pennsylvania.

We were staying in his tiny camping trailer in some deserted state park, and early the first morning we stepped out into ten or so inches of fresh snow and absolutely miserable freezing temperatures. We walked up and down hills and through pine trees all day long and were absolutely beat by days end as I remember.

We decided to go to a little tavern out in the middle of nowhere to get a hot evening meal, and my friend had a beer or two with his meal.

On the counter, as in many old country taverns back then was a glass gallon jar of pickled hard-boiled eggs, and my friend began eating those eggs along with his beer and dinner. Back then I had no idea what a potent combination beer and pickled boiled eggs could be.

That night I would rather have slept out in the snow than in that tiny trailer with him.

These are just a few of the things on my “inverse bucket list” and I hope they gave you a chuckle or two.

But as I think about it, who knows, in our world today maybe it’s just as important for us to know what we WILL NOT do as it is to know what we will; continue to Explore Kansas Outdoors.

Steve can be contacted by email at