This Fall marks the one-year anniversary of my introduction to taxidermy. It’s a milestone that’s caused me to do some reflecting on what it was like when I first entered Frank’s world. Wanting to investigate some other creative hobbies and careers beyond animal preservation, I revisited the trailer park where I held a temporary job last October.
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Finally! The antler is revealed. I’ve been yanking and tugging at a piece of plastic trapped inside a silicone version of the Hamburger Helper hand and now it’s done. Continue reading this column... « Less

For the past few weeks I’ve been working on a mold of a moose antler. Here are a few pictures of the process. Frank taught me a reverse-casting method which gets its name from the way the mold is built from the outside-in. First I had to cover the antler with clay. Then I removed the clay when the outer layer of fiberglass hardened. I poured silicone where the clay had been, forming a glove around the antler. This part of the mold is meant to pick up the most detail.

The hardest part was mixing the correct ratios of silicone and catalyst, and making sure no air bubbles got trapped inside. The experience was tedious, and the tricky part about moldmaking is that one small mistake can ruin the entire project. I almost did just that, when the materials were hardening faster than I could work. Not only would I have wasted hours of time, but a lot of money, too. Silicone isn’t cheap! I’m waiting to release the first cast once it has cured, and I hope to have some durable plastic antlers to photograph for next time.

If you ever visit Scranton, Pennsylvania I recommend exploring the Everhart Museum of Natural History, Science, and Art. Its inventory includes impressive collections of abstract paintings, African masks, dinosaur bones, and more. However there’s no competition when it comes to the museum’s mélange of taxidermy. A prominent physicist and skilled taxidermist named Dr. Isaiah Fawkes Everhart founded the museum because the size of his own mounted specimen collection exceeded his ability to accomodate it. He had a strong interest in hunting, fishing, agriculture, and the natural trades of Pennsylvania. Wanting to share his interests with the public and realizing the need to build a museum, in 1908 Dr. Everhart unveiled a taxidermy collection that the museum claims is “one of the finest and largest collections in the United States.” Continue reading this column... « Less

For those of you wondering where to hang your next mount, forget about the space above your fireplace. No matter how tempting it may be to display your beaming buck above those crackling flames, they will ultimately destroy your trophy. Frank called me outside to show me this bull (or “stud” in terms of its role in the herd) to point out the heat damage caused by 50 years over the hearth. I noticed sunken eyeballs, a crackled nose, and dry edges peeling away from the paper-mache form.
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Now is the time to retrieve your flash cards and finish learning the mysteries of moldmaking. If your notes have been eaten by the dog you can always refer to last month’s entry. At this point it’s useful to check out SmoothOn.com for more images and information on materials.
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As soon as I returned home from my journey I was anxious to get back in the studio with Frank. My worries about a summer job dissolved when he said he’d need my help for the next few months. I spent my first day as an employee making molds for fish fins (it’s bass season in Pennsylvania) and thought I’d share the knowledge with TTH in weekly segments. The best part is, you can use this process to make reproductions of basically anything.
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I have a good friend in Utah who makes his living as a wildlife biologist. His career mandates extensive research, especially onsite. While on a recent excursion in the desert he discovered a mummified cow, containing withered organs and a complete skeleton. It remained in the exact position in which it died, providing yet another example of taxidermy by nature.

Here’s a piece of advice about the Salton Sea: don’t book your next family vacation there despite the seduction of southern California. This man-made body of water began in the early 1900s due to excess runoff from the Colorado River. Since then there’s been no drainage, so the stagnant sea has become an outlet for toxic agricultural run-off and biological distress. The town of Salton was originally intended as a hot tourist attraction for elite vacationers visiting from Palm Springs. Unfortunately (despite Sonny Bono’s endorsement efforts in the ’90s) the area is now totally abandoned (including signs for attractions that lead to nowhere) and the salinity levels in the water are so high they are unbearable for wildlife. It didn’t take long while approaching the beach to realize what looked like seashells were actually thousands of fish bones. Scattered on the sand throughout streaks of algae and salt crystals were dead fish, bleached and dried in the 105 degree heat.

In San Francisco I met a man who runs a store of archeological wonders. His shop includes butterfly and moth displays, collections of petrified wood, fossils, rattlesnake bones, alligator feet and feathers. There were a few small taxidermy items, too. When I asked who did the preserving I was surprised to learn all his animals were freeze dried at a museum in Oakland.
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While driving along Highway 50, also known as The Loneliest Road in America, my friend and I decided to stop at an ancient-looking junk store in Scipio, Utah. Along with a pile of antlers for sale, I found some fishing supplies that were so weird it took me a minute to figure them out. First of all the Moss Mouse costs eight dollars. Secondly, since the Fishin’ Frenzy aids in targeting rabid aquatic savages, I’d like to announce ahead of time I’m charging double for anyone who brings in the results.

For anyone who’s ever doubted the saying “everything is bigger in Texas” I recommend paying a visit to the northern town of Dumas. Kudus, blesbock, hartebeests, antelope, and blue wildebeests line the walls of Tumbleweed Taxidermy, displaying exotic antlers as long as several feet. Towering body forms hang on the back wall of the studio, naked and looking alien by contrast. Having been in business for 36 years, the longest of any taxidermist north of Dallas, the gentlemen I spoke to said he focuses on custom and African work. Unfortunately African hides present a lot of wrinkles. Sending them out for tanning makes the process easier, instead of doing it at home.
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Bucky was nowhere to be seen, but I bought batteries from his wife who runs the convenience store beside this handmade billboard. She handed me a local hunting and fishing guide containing photos of men in overalls showing off their trophies. Continue reading this column... « Less

Low on dough? No problem! Most of the friends I’ve met in Tennessee tend to barter with goods and skills rather than paying cash. Trading items is common practice, and most of the materials are gathered straight from the woods. For example, an average post mortem experience was surely in store for this gold finch until my friends Wist and Zel found it on the ground. In hopes to trade the bird for a pair of skull earrings designed by another local artist, Wist and Zel got down to taxidermy business. Continue reading this column... « Less

With Alexandra Roth off the grid in the southern Appalachians, tech columnist Tret Lo fills in to discuss a morbid meeting of taxidermy and technology.

How-to blog Instructables has a feature about how to make a mouse for your computer using a gutted miniature USB mouse and a gutted mouse from your family’s mousetrap. Continue reading this column... « Less

Don’t underestimate the mysticism of the South. As I become more immersed in local culture, the restaurant decor has gotten weirder, and the animal shrines have become increasingly haunting. Continue reading this column... « Less

Deep within the recesses of rural Tennessee, where plumbing, heat, and electricity are obsolete, I have been spending a substantial amount of time with a young couple I met on the road. At a glance their property seems abandoned. A tornado hit the land in late February, leaving the earth surrounding their one-room shack brutally uprooted, tangled, and devoured by gnarled brambles. However my friends do more than just survive in the backwoods. They brew their own beer, build new structures, and are self-taught taxidermists. Most of their skills derive from a library left behind by previous residents, and are applied to naturally available materials.
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Guest Taxidermists And The Moneynotes

The Pennsylvania-based band And The Moneynotes recently completed a tour through the South. While on the road they found themselves in all manner of places including manor houses. High atop a mountain in Chattanooga, Tennessee, the band was by chance billeted in the trophy room of an African gamesman. The taxidermy specimens included Antelopes, Gazelles, and Kudus, among many others.
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The first week of my journey through the American South was spent in Asheville, North Carolina where I met a woman who preserves hides. I was fascinated by her bold, DIY approach and was lucky enough to spend the afternoon with her at home. She gave me a tour of her work space and hide collection, informing me of her technique along the way.
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Welcome to Christiansburg, Virginia where this BBQ shack extends a friendly hello via wild boar! Along with six varieties of sauce available, so is this “employee of the month” t-shirt in a non-shredded format, sunglasses not included. While eating my sandwich and thinking of mounted animals in food joints, I was reminded of a pizza place in Avoca, Pennsylvania. A friend of mine will assure you everything in the restaurant is literally under three bucks! The closest my studio experiences have come to food were probably these turkey legs Frank and I cast for a bird mount. Did I mention I prefer associating Thanksgiving with the kitchen?