I'm long overdue for posting an
update about the hunting venture I was off on just after the
prior post. That will follow, momentarily.
Here it's two weeks later already, and this is nearly the first
spare moment since. Buffalo business of one sort or another
takes up nearly every waking moment, and beats the heck out
of a recession! I think I may declare today "off",
Hah! We've already loaded out five buffs, but only
have three to skin, unlike ten yesterday. Couldn't do it without
We were talking about elk hunting, though, and as numerous
bureaucrats would agree, I don't know if I've written anything
better since recounting what I'd just experienced back on 11/30.
Time I got home that night, I'd definitely seen too much, but
writing about it provides release.
This was/is a post on a Guitarist forum I participate in. It's
quite a place, mostly long-time participants including lots
of professors and engineers, a Harvard lawyer (who plays in
a punk band, Car Bomb Driver), and a considerable diversity
of other folks leaning toward aging, bald, (choose F word) aka
OBF's who still bring the rawk.
The following post veered into horses, though, as there's a
handful of enthusiasts, including Kevin, who made a fortune
in the tech boom, and whose wife and daughters are way high
up in Quarter Horse circles. Incidentally, Kevin has come out
of "retirement", renewed a teaching certificate and
is substitute teaching in California public schools. He doesn't
need the money, he's giving back. That's the caliber of people
we're talking about here! But anyway, this was in response to
a link he'd posted to video of his daughter in a top-level reining
You're in the big leagues there, Kevin, no doubt.
Perhaps it's best I don't have videos of my horses in action.
I'm quite sure today should not have been video'd. As if that
were possible... !
No, far beyond that the idea of hunting being a spectator sport
is fundamentally flawed.
Yesterday morning, while <deleted,
too revealing...>that the recently arrived wolves
had pushed a truly incredible herd of elk <deleted,
be serious!>. Up into country I used to hunt a
lot, before I gave it up because it was haunted. And very difficult
So we got on the trail right at dark last night. Eight
year old Buddy, aka Zan Parr Bud carrying me (although I walk
plenty too) and leading a barely plural packstring consisting
of former flatlander boasting performance bloodlines Sonny,
followed by 30 year old Bo. The last of my Blackfoot Indian
horses, a truly aged and remarkable Morgan/Quarter cross, he
remains the best caboose packhorse in the Rocky Mountains. In
fact the younger ponies poured sweat, but the Old Man took it
all in stride. I know, this cannot last forever, but he's not
quite retired yet.
There is some passing of the torch going on. I hope Buddy
is able to absorb any wisdom Bo can pass along, and since not
just any nag can lead the way through some notably rough country
in the dark he shows considerable promise.
Although he's just as tired as I am right now, barely lucid
We spiked out last night, and went way the 7uck up in there
today. Up to what we've deemed "Murkwood", where the
deadfall is atrocious and precludes attached packhorses, and
the mineral deposits render internal compasses useless, but
do you think that's where the mightiest stags in the forest
Not today. The last day of the season...
So although I planned on spending the night up there, and
packing out a gargantuan bull tomorrow, we came out today, which
made for most of 20 miles.
Tsk. What madness.
But thanks to this place, I know counseling won't help,
in fact interacting with Buddy & Co just might be vastly
more rewarding, so...