Special Occasions are...........Special

 Every now and then there's something that comes along that just makes what could generally be a regular ole day, different.  Now I don't mean different in any sort of way that would take away from that regular ole day, but something that just adds a little flavor to the day in way that settles into yer mind and stays there.  You know what I mean?  Sure you do and you have em too, you have those Special Occasions come along in your life that do funny things to ya.  They make you smile big ole grins from ear to ear.  These occasions can give ya a big ole lump in yer throat and even result in an alligator tear runnin' down yer cheek.  The best part of these Special Occasions is that they tend ta relive themselves in yer mind now and again and remind ya of just how special a day that Special Occasion was.

This all brings me to today, yep today is a Special Occasion.  You see, after 13 long years of headin' to school every day, it comes to a bit of a conclusion today.  Spencer, my Stepson, graduates from High School today.  See, here's the thing about Stepkids, they're not yer children because they were born to ya, these critters are your children because you chose em.  Heck, the way I figure it, if'n I hadn't come to love em, I likely wouldn't have chose their mother either.  They come as a package deal and a darn good fringe benefit of marryin' their mother.

Back to that Special Occasion.  This one only happens once, you only get to graduate from High School one time, and the way I see it, if its a one time thing, it's bound to be pretty special.  I gotta be honest, there's been a time or two, well maybe three, that I wasn't so certain that this day was coming, at least not this year anyway.  Spence, he's had his educational moments, shall we say, but I gotta tip my hat to the boy cause when he needed to get the job done, he knuckled down, busted his tail and pulled through.  To that I say Bravo Spencer!

He's gonna walk down that aisle today and across that stage and shake a hand or two, receive his diploma, move his tassle from one side to the other and Shazam!, he'll be officially a graduate.  People usually figure this is the end ta somethin', but it's more of a beginnin'.  Shoot, he's only begun livin' and I'm all kinds of excited and apprehensive at the same time to see where this ole world is gonna take him.  Oh, he's got plans.  He's got a job all lined out and he knows where he's gonna go to college and he even knows what he wants to study.  Shoot there's a bunch of folks twice his age that still don't have a clue as ta where their a goin' or what their a doin'.  Seriously now, you know some of these folks, heck you may even be one of em.  I'm glad Spence has a plan, but ya know what, I know this young fella well enough to truly believe that whereever he winds up and whatever he ends up a doin', he'll be successful.  Oh, he may never be rich er famous, but I'll tell ya, he'll always have a plan, and if he hasn't yet achieved his goal, I know he'll be workin' on how ta git himself there.

Ya know, when I think of Spencer, I can't help but be reminded of some other Special Occasions.  Some of em may only be special to me and hopefully Spence as well.  I think of the first time he went to Elk Camp with me.  Now that was a Special Occasion for sure.  Poor guy, he didn't yet have his hunter's safety card, so he couldn't actually hunt, but he took every step I did.  He went up the mountain trails and down into the canyons and he was wide eyed and excited to just be there.  Heck, he even carried a chair with him for me to sit on.  Now before ya start thinkin' that this is a tad bit crazy, let me explain about this chair.  It's a little tripod stool that folds up to about 16" long and 4" around and weighs less than 2 pounds.  But, he did get my buddy Randy to say, "for cryin' out loud Spencer, tell him to carry his own chair".

Another Special Occasion was goin' pheasant & chucker huntin' at Canyon Creek.  Randy had given me a shotgun, meant to be passed on to one of the boys that decided they wanted to be a hunter, and doggone it, Spence surely fits the bill.  We had been hangin' out around the shelter there at Canyon Creek a waiting for ole Bob let us know that the birds were ready for us head out and find em.  Well here came Bob on his 4-wheeler and we were off to another adventure.  We hadn't gone more than a few hundred yards when Rudy the Setter went on point.  We let Spence know that the first bird was his and he snuck up there and Indie the Lab flushed out a Chucker.  Ole Spencer pulls up, and like he'd been doin' it for years, he knocks down the first bird of the day and the first bird of his huntin' career.  Yes, this is where I got that big ole grin goin' from ear to ear.  Proud, darn right I was proud.

Just this last Fall, Spencer and I headed to NE Oregon to get us a Muley Buck.  We camped in the same meadow we had camped in a few years earlier at Elk Camp and we pitched the wall tent and had us a darn nice set up.  This was another pretty Special Occasion, not because we came across a dandy buck or two and were eatin' venison steaks for dinner, cause that just didn't happen.  It was special because I got to spend that whole hunt with a fine young man that I am just so proud to know.  You see, neither one of us had our buddies along, and his mother wasn't along either.  It was just the two of us, workin' together, laughin' together, plannin' together and just bein' together.  Many of ya out there may not count a deer hunt without deer on the meat pole as a very special time, but we weigh it a little different.  A Special Occasion can be special for reasons that some folks just may not understand, but I believe we do.

I could tell other stories about deep sea fishin', Turkey, Elk and other camps and vacations, but I think you get the gist of what I'm tryin' to say here.  And to Spencer, thank you so much for these Special Occasions and for what I hope will be many Special Occasions to come.  I'm darn proud to be your Stepdad and I'm darn proud of you!

I Don't Like Spiders & Snakes

Spiders and Snakes, nope, don't like em, don't like em at all. I just have never learned to appreciate critters with fangs that can inflict pain on my person. I know, there's folks out there with slitherin' crawly pets, and to those poor, confused folks, I'll just ask fer yer forgiveness right up front.

I grew up in the northern part of the Mohave Desert in Eastern Oregon, and let me tell ya, there are definitely spiders and snakes in abundance. Now, I'm not as wound up about spiders as I am snakes, but is there anyone who enjoys walkin' head long into a spider's web? Not my favorite thing to do fer sure. But snakes, those wigglin', slitherin', and yes rattlin' critters, I truly am not a fan of em. Which leads me to a warm, sunny Fall morning out in the sagebrush hills of Eastern Oregon.

As I remember this day, it was really a great mornin'. Stan and Carl and I were out on the BLM lands just outside the home place and we were doin' our darndest to find us a big ole Muley Buck, or any buck for that matter, cause we weren't really all that particular. We'd been hikin' along and split up to cover more ground. There I am sneaking along hoping to see that elusive Buck just around every turn or jumpin' up out of a gully. Now, in this end of the world, it's a pretty darn good idea to keep one eye on the trail and make sure that you aren't about to surprise a not so friendly rattler.

So, I've been trailin' along for a while when, sure enough, I come across a bloomin' diamond back rattler. He's not overly thrilled to see me either, or smell me, or whatever it is they do. Quite frankly, I really don't much care. I'm just a wee bit pleased jthough that they have this tail waggin' habit that sounds all scratchy and rattly and the same time. This kind of tail waggin' does not however compare to your favorite huntin' dog's happy to see ya gesture. Naw, this is a "you better watch yer step or I'll poke a couple of holes in yer leg and fell em full of poison" type of a tail wag. So, I've got no problem answerin' this slithermeister with a good ole clubbin'. Yup, dispatched the varmint with a couple of well placed whacks. Okay, ya snake lovers out there, I'm askin' fergiveness again already.

I check on the critter to make sure he's really done for and am happy to report that those fangs are out of commission, whew! So, off I go to continue the quest for what I'm really lookin' for, Deer, the male variety to be more precise. I haven't gone far, and I run into Stan. We share our mornin' experiences and have a good laugh before we head on down the trail. We don't get far and holy criminy there slithers another rattler. Well, its time to find another club and, yup, get to clubbin' again. We lean our rifles up a some brush and find a good whackin' stick. I get up as close as I dare to the thing and start to swingin' away. About the fourth or fifth swing something really unexpected and completely unplanned occurs. This confounded wiggler get all wrapped around the whackin' stick and as I take my next back swing the snake comes with the swing and up into the air flies the snake. A flying rattlesnake! Now there's a critter that will put the fear into ya, at least it sure did to me and ole Stan. All we can think to do is RUN, and run we did, and screamin' like a couple of school girls as we leaped over the sagebrush.

This surely must have been quite the site to behold. In fact, I'd have loved to been on the hillside watching this flying snake scare the holy $#@*! outta two great white hunters. Now what, you ask? Well, we asked that same question of each other, Now What?? For starters, we have no idea whatsoever what happened to the flying rattler, heck, for all we know he's lying in wait for us or still flyin' around somewhere waiting to dive bomb us. We could have just left this forsaken place, but alas, that was not in the cards. Our rifles were still back there where we first encountered this ole snake, so now we've gotta head back down there through the lair of a fully ticked off diamond back Rattlesnake. Off we go sneakin' and peekin' our way through the brush, surveying every inch of the landscape for the once flying snake. Well, we found him, he was all hangin' out in sagebrush and once again scarin' the holy $#@*! out of us. This time though we have nothin' at all to fear because for the second time in one morning, we have put a snake out of our misery.

We gather up our guns and off we go again, and by now every stick we see is a snake. Not really, but sheesh, I never knew that dead sagebrush looked so darn much like a rattlesnake, did you? Along about then we meet up with Carl and proceed to tell him our tale. He's pretty darned amused by it all and has a pretty good laugh about our flyin' snake story, in fact, I'm not sure he believed the whole thing at all. Back on the trail again, we come up over a little rise and smack dab in the middle of the trail is snake #3. I'm walkin' in the lead, and I just turn around and head back the other direction. I tell the others that I've had all I want to do with snakes and if they wanna take care of the thing, they can have at it. Stan and Carl take a gander at the snake and they break into a big ole belly laugh. I says, "what's so bloomin' funny", and that's when the tell me its a Bull Snake. We all had a good laugh and watched this critter wind his way off through the sand.

We'd made a memory for sure that mornin' and I don't know about the other two, but to this day I still have crazy dreams about flying snakes.

Why is February Special

February is an awesome month, did you know that? I mean, to start with it's just different than any other month out there. All of the other months have days in em that start with a 3, but not February. Nope, February can't quite get there. It comes pretty darn close, but just can't close the deal. Every four years February gets within one day of making it to 30, but just can't get over the hump. Remember when you were one day short of making it to 30? Been a while hasn't it? Yeah, I remember 29, or at least I think I remember 29.

Anyway, back to February and how awesome a month it is. Is there any other month that has a special holiday for a rodent? Yeah, a rodent, a bloomin' groundhog no less. And by the way Phil, whats with the seeing your shadow thing anyway ya big scaredy rat. I'm gettin' tired of you runnin' back into yer hole and hiding out there hibernating while the rest of us have to put up with the 6 more weeks of Winter thing that you've left us with. REALLY!! You'd think you'd have the decency to at least buck up and hang out with the rest of us, but NO, you run off and hide ya overgrown field mouse.

So February, what's with the 'r'? I mean, nobody pronounces the silly 'r' anyway. I know, it's "proper" to pronounce the 'r', but who takes time to do it, huh? Its a waste of the alphabet I say!

And then there's the 'lover's holiday', brought to you by St. Valentine, FTD and Hallmark. It's a pretty darn good reminder for some of us more simple guys, but honestly, shouldn't we be rememberin' the sweetheart in our life every day? Now you know you should too, don't ya? Hallmark and FTD make a killing on this day. Wonder if it's possible to buy stock in Hallmark on the 15th and then sell it the next Feb. 1st. Bet it's worth a whole bunch more then, huh? This February 14th day is pretty darn cool too because it is the day of our, Deb & I's, anniversary. Six of them as of 2012, and many more to come.

And of course, other than the fact that the anniversary of the day I married my bride is in February, the very best part of the month is the annual Sportsman's Show. I'll never forget the first time I went to the Sportsman's Show. I was in Portland to take some class or another that must have been related to AutoCAD, or Building Codes or some such thing, and was wonderin' what to do with my self for the evening. I figured I'd check out the newspaper and see what was goin' on, I mean, I was livin' in small town Eastern Oregon, and there usually wasn't much cookin', so I figured, heck, there must be somethin' I could do in a big ole city, right? Well, I was in luck for sure! I saw this ad for a Sportsman's Show and, well, I'm a sportsman, so I figure I need to go and check this thing out. Holy Cow!! This here Expo Center is a big, big building, or 4-5 buildings all strung together, but you get the picture. The whole darn thing is clear full of toys, and I don't mean tinker toys and marbles either. The toys I'm talkin' about are camouflage and hunter green and blaze orange and more of it than I've ever seen in one spot before. And then there's fishin' gear and more fishin' gear and more, really, more............ And a big ole fish tank full of Bass & Trout & Salmon & Sturgeon & Catfish. Biguns too, makes a feller drool all over hisself. Then there was this big ole section with nothin but boats in it. Every size of boat from little ole aluminum row boats to 50' long party barges, and everything in between. In another building there's all sorts of guided hunts and expeditions being advertised and tantilized by your's truly. There was fishin' trips and huntin' trips and campin' trips and more!! And mounted heads and horns, so many of em it makes yer head spin. Then theres campers and quads and truck gear and all manner of huntin' gear. And then there's the "mother lode"!! Yup, you guessed it, WALL TENTS! They've got these tents set up all over and there's all sorts of gear to put in em too, like cots and coat hangers and lantern hangers and wood stoves and carpeting and kitchens and, well, just let your imagination run, cause the possibilities are nearly endless I tell you, endless. There's a whole bunch of other stuff there too, like optics and huntin' dogs and camp cookin' videos and lectures about huntin' and there's packin' gear and well, I think you get the picture, and if you don't, you need to go to the Sportsman's Show real bad!!

So, this brings me to the real reason for this here tale. The very best part of the Sportsman's Show is going with a friend, or more, more is good too. I mean where else can you see all this stuff and get to share the dream of seeing a bunch of it at Elk Camp? There isn't a year goes by that there isn't at least one new addition to the vast mountain of Elk Camp gear that finds it's way to Elk Camp. So who better to be with as you search for that next item of gear that certainly cannot be lived without!

Just a couple of weeks ago my ole huntin' buddy Randy and I ventured forth once again to the Expo Center to ogle and fondle all that stuff that was assembled in those big ole halls. We came from separate directions, from the East and from the South to meet up and share an afternoon of awe and wonder, along with thousands of other outdoor enthusiasts. You know, I did not know there were that many camo shirts and jackets in all of Oregon, but you could get lost in that place. If you aren't careful you'll be wanderin' around all lost and confused sayin' "can you see me now?"

Back to the important part here, focus, that's what I need , focus. But, did you ever try to focus with all that outdoorsy stuff temping and tantalizing ya at every turn and in every direction? It's hard man, I tell you, it's hard!

Randy and I walked every aisle of every building. We stopped and talked with folks we've met over the years and some we've even hunted with. We checked out huntin' and fishin' trips and we made "tentative" plans to one day make that hunt, or take that trip. We shared a beer and we laughed and talked until the time came that we had to head home. Thing is, I've never been to a Sportsman's Show and left without making a single purchase. Oh, don't get me wrong, I saw things I wanted to come home with, but at this point, most of the stuff I want to bring home doesn't fit too easily in the car, or for that matter in the pickup. These toys are also on the more pricey side of things if you know what I mean.

But truly, here's the real reason that neither of us bought a single article of gear. We didn't sign up for any hunts, we didn't even enter any raffles, okay, I signed up for one (full disclosure here). I believe though that we came home with more than we ever had before. We walked and talked and shared and laughed. We talked about work and play and family and future and dreams. We shared concern over circumstances and friends and choices. We laughed about dogs and of camps from the past and more than anything, we were simply there and being old friends that were just happy to be spending an afternoon together.

Maybe next year we'll bring home a new "toy" from the Sportsman's Show, but until then we'll manage just fine.

Dang, What on earth did I do without ya??

Every single one of us has had in our possession, something that has been really important to us, and for one reason or another it has slipped out of our fingers. Maybe it was a photograph of a lost love or a coin with a certain important date on it, or an article the we read and cut out cause we wanted to save it. That one thing we lost might be something very small, like a special Elk ivory that had been saved and handed down. It might also be something large, like a piece of land that you've left your imprint on for years only to see it sold to the highest bidder.

I can think of some things that I've lost in one way or another that I've thought about many times over the years. Things that were passed down to me and then through my negligence, are no longer with me. It really, honestly pains me to think of a couple of things, and I think of them often. Not because of their great monetary value, but simply because they were important to someone else before they were entrusted to me. I'll write more about these things another time. Right now I wanna concentrate on something different, something that is more of a feel good thing, and I wanna feel good.

Do you know what it is like for an Elk Hunter to be without his pickup truck? It's really weird I tell ya! I've been the owner of many a pickup truck. Yep I've had big ones, little ones, medium sized ones, foreign ones, domestic ones, good lookin' ones and not so good lookin' ones. The thing is, I've had me some pickup trucks, and I've enjoyed em', yup I have.

Truck #1 was a 1960 Ford 1/2 ton short box. This was a boxy little number that wasn't big on looks, but it had all the potential in the world to be a 16 year old's dream rig. Problem was it drank almost as much oil as it did gas and therefore it was not in my possession for long enough for me to get attached. Yeah, my Dad took it back down to the dealer that I bought it from and got me my money back. There was a reason I got her cheap, but keepin' her would have gotten pretty expensive.

Truck #2 came to me as a 1972 Ford 1/2 Ton 4X4. This truck was a looker. It had big tires and wheels and shined like a new penny. I'd been drivin' an Econoline SuperVan that I really did like, but when I drove by the Ford garage and saw this 72 4X4, I was hooked. So I said goodbye to my Van (by the way, this was a window van and I had installed a window mural of Elk that went all around the van. I was cool lookin', really.......) and drove away in my first 4X4.

Truck #3 was the result of me being too cheap to keep runnin' gas through the really thirsty 4X4 and wanting to find a rig with a bit less of a thirst for fossil fuels and my hard earned cash. That's how I got myself a Chevy Luv. She was a 1977 mini truck, and I'm a 1959 XXL. I was young though, so foldin' myself up and getting myself pried out of the cab was still a doable thing at that point. She got great mileage and got me out in the hills, up in the mountains and back and forth to work. What more could I ask for?

Truck #4 was what I asked for. See the 77 Luv got to overheating and I wound up sellin' her to a local mechanic before I had to foot the bill for all the repairs that were coming soon. Anyhow, my Dad had a neighbor down the road a bit who had an old 70 Ford 1/2 ton, and he was lookin' to peddle it. It was pretty dull lookin' and all, but she ran out alright and I picked her up for a little bit of nothin', so I was pretty pleased. I kept her until I fell in love with the only rig I'd really like to have if I didn't have a pickup truck, a FJ40 Landcruiser!! I still miss that rig and would buy it back from the folks who I sold it to if they'd ever decide to sell it. Yeah, I was hard up and needed the cash, so I sold my FJ40 to a couple in North Powder about 25 years ago. They said that if they ever decided to sell her, that they would let me know. Would you believe it?, they still have her. I check in every now and then, and they aren't ready to sell. Arrggghh.

Truck #5 was another 77 Chevy, only this one was a Full Size 4X4. I bought it off a friend of mine who had fixed her up and was selling it. It was good ole pickup and I had an canopy on it with a bed in it. It went camping and hunting a bunch but again it fell to me once again deciding that I wanted to get something that saved me some change at the pump.

Truck #6 was my gas saver. She was a 1987 Mazda B2000. She was a pretty thing too, black and chrome with white pin striping. The only new vehicle I've ever bought and I really enjoyed her. My oldest son named her BlackJack. She was the CabPlus version of the B2000 and had jump seats in the back. I spent a lot of time on the back roads of Eastern Oregon in this little rig and I believe I even shed a tear when I sold her, sniff..........

Truck #7 was the anti-gas saver. A 1982 Ford F250 4X4 SuperCab. This thing was a mile long and built like a tank, just ask the new Ford pick up I ran into. Five MPH crash and that new rig looked like it had been in a roll over. My truck, hardly a scratch........ The problem with this rig was that, as in my first Truck, it was, shall we say, NOT mechanically sound. I poured more money into it than what I paid for it and it still never got more than 10 mpg. Oh well, I enjoyed my big pick-em-up truck.

Truck #8 was the pickup truck that wasn't supposed to be. I had been lookin' to get me a new rig and had checked out a couple of em and was headed out with my two boys to test drive what I thought would be my new wheels. Neither of the pickups I'd gone to look at were what I had hoped they'd really be, so we were headed home when we came across this 1999 Dodge QuadCab 4X4 that caught my eye and made me do a double take. We went back and checked it out and ended up drivin' it home. I had that truck until I just needed more seats for my kids that had grown in size and number. That's when I traded her in on a Durango. Not a bad rig mind you, except that my buddy kept sayin', "Why on earth are you driving a daggone hearse". I drove the 2004 Durango for 5 years, I did, yep, me and my hearse. Then I got back in the Pickup Truck way of livin'.

Truck #9, and my current mode of transportation, at least when I'm not on my Kawasaki Vulcan 1500, is a 2008 Dodge QuadCab Hemi. I do love driving this rig. Comfy and tough all at the same time. Gas mileage isn't great, but hey, it's got a Hemi afterall. I can't believe I went all those years without a pickup truck. I can haul stuff again, no really, I can!! And there's so many things a person can haul. Well, I hauled stuff over the years in a few rigs that weren't designed particularly well for hauling, but hey, you gotta get the gear into the hills and back out, right? I think I'll stay in the pickup truck way of doin' things. You see, I'm a pickup man, That's what I am!

You take care Elk Camp alums. Until next year this is the elkaholic sayin', "Drive a Truck kids".

New Years Resolutions

Hello my friends and fellow Elk Camp lovers and Elk Camp wannabes. It's been a long time since we last got together and I think it's high time we had a little chat. Heck, its been so long I can't seem to figure out just how I want to approach this here letter. I'm not sure if I need to apologize fer not gettin' on here more often and sharin' whats on my mind, or if I should just come right out and start emptyin' my brain of all the stuff I've stored up since we last chatted. I do have a lot to say, really, I've just kinda been storing it up for a while.

So, what about these resolutions, anyway? I know for certain that I've had many resolutions in the past that I simply could not or would not keep or live up to. You know the ones I'm talkin' about, don't you? Things like; I'm going to lose weight this year, and I'm going exercise every day this year. The list really goes on and on, and I'm gonna spare you the pain of reading through the list of stuff that you and I have simply failed to do.

Yep, this year I'm gonna write down some resolutions that I'm pretty darn sure I can handle. That way I won't have to be feelin' bad when my expectations are bigger than my executions. So here's my list, and in no particular order of importance either, cause I'm bound to forget somethin' important to begin with and then I'd have to start all over you know. So, again, in no particular order of importance, my list of doable resolutions.

1) I resolve to put more miles in on unpaved surfaces than I did in the past year. This ought to be easy, cause I didn't spend near enough time huntin' last year.

2) I resolve to wear more camo, denim and flannel. Thank you Santa for providing me with more camo, denim and flannel to wear.

3) I resolve to attend at least one Sportsmen's Show this year. I always do this, so this should be a piece of cake.

4) I resolve to watch more huntin' shows on my HD 1080P 57" rear projection behemoth of a television set. See I finally figured out this DVR thing, and I can record this stuff to my heart's content. See I live in this here rainy, wet Willamette Valley, and I gotta have somethin' to do when I can't get out in the woods.

5) I resolve to drool over pictures of humongous Bull Elk in my Bugle magazines. Excuse me while I get a handkerchief.

6) I resolve to take my Motorcycle fishing. She has a little trouble casting, but she's got plenty of power to pull in a biggun'. Really, doesn't this sound fun? Pack up the Travel Bags and a tent and fishin' gear and hit the highway in search of a place to drown a worm or two? Yeah, I'm gonna do this!!

7) I resolve to daydream about Elk Camp. This I can do, over and over and over and over, well you get the picture. Man I sure do, I can picture this stand of tamarack and there's this...........

8) I resolve to write at least one blog entry each and every month of 2012. Now this one may be a bit of a chunk to bite off, but it simply needs to be done. There are people out there that are waiting, eagerly I tell ya, to read this stuff, honest!

Now for some stuff a little more on the serious side, not that I'm not serious about the first eight entries, but this other stuff is bigger.

9) I resolve to wake up each day and be thankful for what God has provided me with in terms of opportunities to enjoy the great outdoors.

10) I resolve to strive to be a better husband, father, friend, and professional. Every year should be an opportunity to grow in every aspect of my life.

11) I resolve to get myself in better shape. I know, this is the one resolution that so many many of us tend to falter under, but I need to do this. I'm not gettin' any younger, and i want to be able to enjoy getting out and about, so there you have it, in better shape I will get!!

And finally, here's the biggie, at least if you are an Elk Hunter.

12) I resolve to be in Elk Camp. Now normally, this would seem to be a pretty easy one, but it has now been two years since I've been in Elk Camp. Two years in which I've questioned my decision to not be there. Two years in which I've spent a lot of time wishing I'd seen Brad and Deb get their Elk. Two years that have seemed like Ten. Two years of knowing that those two Elk seasons can't be brought back. Two years of missing seeing my best friends being in their happy place. I know that I had good reasons both years, and that the things I was doing were important, but there's just too much to be missed this coming Fall, I just know it, and that's why I resolve to be in Elk Camp.

I had a Great Elk Season this past year! Now , some would say that this statement is really, really odd, but then they just don't quite get it. No, I did not shoot an Elk. No, I did not see any Elk. No, I did not hear an Elk bugle. No, I did not even make it to Elk Camp. So why, you say, can you say you had a Great Elk Season? Come to think of it, it is a pretty odd statement, isn't it?

I love Elk Camp, I mean, I really love Elk Camp. It seems that I just simply survive from one season to the next. I even dream about Elk and Elk Camp and huntin' Elk and, well it's a bit of an addiction, I spose. My screen name is usually Elkaholic, I have a window sticker on my Durango that says Elkaholic. Actually, there are two stickers, the other one says "I'd rather be Elk Hunting". So, yeah, it's a little, or a whole bunch, odd that I wasn't in Elk Camp

Why on earth would a feller that rambles on so much about Elk Camp miss the one opportunity of the year to actually be in Elk Camp? You know there were a number of reasons. Some monitary, some work related and some, we'll just leave em to your imagination, that just made it clear to me that I needed to stay home this year. What it came down to was simple, it just wasn't meant to be. I struggled with it, thats for certain. I argued with myself and tried to convince myself and came up with excuses to go, but in the end, I found some peace in the decision to leave the gear in its place and stay home.

So, once the decision was made, I had to let my hunting partners know of my decision. That was the toughest part by far. You know, I love these people and I flat out love being in Elk Camp with them. Yep, it was tough!! They seemed to understand, asked if everything was alright, offered to help, told me I'd be missed, yep, they said all the things I expected. Thing is, I know them all too well and I know how I'd feel if I had heard the same news from them. Deep in my heart I'd be saying, No Dadgummit, you can't miss camp. you've got to figure out a way to get there!! But they didn't, and I wouldn't have either. Sometimes news you hear just isn't the news you want to hear, but you still know that you heard it for a reason.

Back to that question, Why on earth, for cryin' out loud was it such a Great Elk Season if you weren't even there? Here's why, because even though I was hundreds of miles away, my friends, no my great friends, made me feel like I was there. Heck, I got a call when the first Bull went down and I got to celebrate with Brad. And I got to hear all about him seeing two Bulls and knockin' one down and how the other Bull was headed toward the others and if he figured things right there would be two Bulls in the tree by that evening. Sure enough, he was right and soon after the first call I got word of Deb's Bull, ole number 2. Holy Cow, er, I mean Bull!! It had been many years since there was a two Bull Elk season and I sure as heck didn't have to be there to be just as bloomin happy as the rest of em.

Later that evening, after the Bulls were hung in the tree and the Elk Camp crew was in the Wall Tent sharing the tales of the day, I got yet another call. This one was the best yet!! I got in on the celebration again. I lifted a glass to my Great Friends and laughed til I cried with the best people on earth. Here's the thing, they took a part of me with them to Elk Camp. They took a piece of my with them as they hiked into the woods. There was a chunk of the Elkaholic with them when the Bulls were harvested, and there I was again at the end of the day celebrating in the Wall Tent. What more could an ole Elk Hunter ask for than to be there in a way that made me feel so much a part of Elk Camp that the memories will be just as real for me as all those other trips and treks in the Wapiti Woods.

To my hunting partners and Great Friends, I say Thank You, Thank You for yet another Grand Adventure. Until next season.....................

Collectables and Treasures

Everybody needs a hobby, you know, that one thing you do just because it is your thing and you enjoy it. Notice that nothing was mentioned about whether or not someone else enjoys this thing you call your hobby, because it is your hobby, your thing, your escape from whatever it is you want to escape from.

Some people collect coins. I tried that, didn't work. After I collected enough coins to go buy something, well, my hobby was over. No more coins, no more hobby. Some folks collect stamps. Never quite understood that one, just can't figure out why I'd buy stamps and then not use em on a letter. Not that I write a lot of letters, more like I put em on payment envelopes, yup thats it. Spending money so I can spend money, something here is just not right. Collecting bugs, now come on here. I tried, but after I squished the bugs and stuck a pin through em, they all looked the same anyway, yeah thats right, like squished bugs. I've seen these bug collections that look real good, but I'm awful confused as to how the collector gets the bloomin bugs to hold still while he skewers em with a sharp pin. I know if I'm a bug, and some collecter type is about so poke a hole clean through me, I'm gonna bite him and bite him good and hard and if I've got a stinger, you can bet it's gettin' used too.

Well, Elk Hunters collect stuff too. We collect all manner of stuff. We collect stuff that we stuff into boxes full of stuff and never see the stuff again until its time to unpack the stuff for the next Elk Camp. See you gotta unpack yer stuff before you leave just to check on the stuff and to see for sure if you put the stuff in the right box of stuff, cause you don't wanna be lookin' fer stuff in the wrong box of stuff when you really need yer stuff. This gets more important every year, cause with each year comes more stuff and therefore more boxes in which to stuff yer stuff, and if you don't stuff the stuff in the right stuff box, yer stuff gets lost amongst the wrong stuff in the wrong box full of stuff. See, some boxes are for cookin' stuff and some boxes are for shootin' stuff, and some boxes are for campin' stuff and other boxes are for wearin' stuff and yet other boxes are for stuff to decorate the Wall Tent. There's also stuff for the dogs and stuff for cleanin critters ya shoot and stuff for eatin and stuff that's just stuff ya can't seem to leave behind, whether ya ever use that stuff or not. But it's your stuff, and you just can't leave home without your stuff, cause sure as you don't bring the stuff along, you'll be needin that stuff and being with out the stuff you need just is not acceptable.

You know what else Elk Hunters collect, or at least a good many of them? They collect antlers, whether the headgear is a big ole 6x6 or a lowly spike, the antlers are collected. You've seen these collections if you've ever visited the home of an Elk Hunter or driven a country highway in Elk Country. Some folks have special rooms in which to display their collections. Yup, the heads and horns of many a Wapiti decorate the walls of Elk Hunters everywhere. Some of em even get decorated for Christmas with a red fuzzy ball at the end of their nose, or sleigh bells hangin round their necks. Makes em look like a bigger more handsome Rudolph I spose. Makes em look a little embarrassing too. I mean, decorations hangin from the Bull of the Woods, sheesh, gotta be a little bit demeaning, don't ya think? There's barns and fences all across the land that have antlers adorning them. Some with a single stately rack of horns centered perfectly over the barn door and others that have many different sizes and shapes and descriptions of horns and antlers plasterin the whole bloomin building. I've seen em used as gun racks too. Yup, forever sentenced to support the firearm that brought him to his demise. Not sure about what message there is in that scenario, but it does make ya think, huh? Then there's Elk Hunters that just wish they had a collection. I feel bad for those poor folks, cause, well, lets not get into it alright!

Back to those boxes of stuff in which we Elk Hunters stuff our stuff. I spose we could just label the boxes, or put a list of stuff in the box of stuff on top of the stuff in the box of stuff. But that would defeat the whole purpose of gettin' a chance to handle and gander at all the stuff. See a whole lot of that stuff is full of memories. Each box is truly a treasure chest of memories. Memories of mountainsides, streams and meadows, of guns and knives and scopes, of gloves and boots and hats, of stew and steak and jerky, but mostly of friends and family and all the times we've laughed together, worked hard together, commiserated together, celebrated together and just plain been together in some of the best country in this country.

I don't think there is a single item of stuff that doesn't have a story to tell about where it came from, when it's been used and for what purpose and how it got to be in that there box full of stuff. There is a decision that must be decided upon when you pick up an article of stuff and consider which box of stuff in which to store this particular item of stuff. It takes some consideration you know, I mean, after all, when will you be using this stuff and will you be using it when using other stuff in the box? Will this stuff be in the way of getting at other stuff that you may need to be getting out? These are important decisions and must be considered carefully. After all, who wants to be searching for the hanger for a lantern in a box of cookin stuff, or diggin for a bottle of propane in amongst your fanny packs and gaiters. I mean this is a waste of precious time that could be used for other, much more important endeavors, like tellin tales and sippin' yer huntin partners "Pendletons".

Seriously though, there are many Elk Camp "duties" that need to be done. Things like splittin wood and haulin wood and stokin the stove with the wood you split and hauled. You've gotta get yer pack ready for the next day and make sure its got a good supply of snacks and water and knives and bags and ropes and twine and emergency blanket and first aid stuff spare gloves and socks and whatever else ya just can't live without for a day in the field. So, don't you see the importance of stuff organizing, unorganized stuff is, well, just stuff, but stuff stuffed in the proper place is good and useful stuff.

Over the years I've collected a plethora of knives, some I use on a regular basis and others I just don't use at all, but none the less they are my knives. I've got this one knife, I suppose it's better described as a machete that I've had since high school. I picked it up at an army surplus store, not sure why, but I just needed that bloomin thing. I've taken it with me on just about every huntin' trip I've been on since that day. I sharpened it up good and used it to chop wood, clear away brush, split an Elks rib cage and pelvis, heck I've even shaved with the crazy thing. A friend of mine, made me a sheath for it. She was takin' a leather working class in high school and needed a projected and my knife needed a sheath. It was a perfect match and they are still together, the knife and sheath that is. What on earth were you thinkin' anyway?? I call it my pocketknife, but I've never had a pocket that would hold it. I have carried it on my belt while hunting though. You've got to lash it to your leg to keep it from beatin ya to death while you hike through the woods. I remember one knife that I lost many years ago, and I still miss it. It was my grandfathers hunting knife and I had it in my fanny pack on a hunting trip that took me out on a hogback in the Wallowas. One of the fellas I was with shot a nice 3pt buck up near the top of that ridge and by the time it stopped tumbling down the mountainside it made for one heck of a pack to get the critter back up outta there. Somewhere along that mountainside my pack came open and the only thing that spilled out was may Grandpa's knife. I looked for it for quite a while out there, combing the rocks and sticks and such, but never could find it. I've thought about that day a thousand times, not just about the hunt and packing out the deer and being so exhausted we could barely move, bust mostly because I lost a part of me out there on that ridge. A treasured possession that I'll never be able to replace, see it wasn't just a knife, and it wasn't just my Grandpa's knife. I was a piece of him, hand made by him that had been entrusted to me by my father. I was protective of it too, so much so that I wouldn't wear it on my belt. I made certain to put it in my fanny pack where it couldn't slip out of the sheath. I used it that day to help clean Greg's deer and I hope Grandpa's knife's story didn't end there. I know it sounds a bit odd, but I hope someone stumbled across it out there and put it safely in their pack and took it home and added it to their collection and that stories have been told about the day on that steep hillside that he caught a reflection of sunlight off the blade and bent over a found a very special knife.