This is what it looked like at our secret hunting ground this morning. Snow, on the ground, coming out of the sky, on the road, and getting deeper by the minute. 2 wheel drive truck, narrow, steep mountain road, did I mention that it was snowing? Bad plan.
We didn't make it anywhere near where I shot my deer last week before we decided that we didn't need another big adventure getting out of some ditch somewhere and decided to turn around, which sucks because I forgot to pick up my brass last week and I was going to try to find it. I was using my "other" rifle, my fancy new .300 Winchester Magnum was hanging comfortably in the gun rack in the truck where it belongs. We don't want to get it dirty now do we?
Anyway, ammo for ol' meat on the table is a little scarce and priced at a premium when found, so I save all my brass for reloading. It really peeves me when I lose one, it drives me nuts to see that empty space in one of my boxes of empty brass. DOH! After all, I've only got about a thousand rounds saved up, I could run out any day. But at least I wasn't the only one that had a lousy day hunting.
My 2nd best friend Brian has been having a worse time of things that I have lately, which is a disturbing development, for him anyway, I think it's kinda funny in an evil little kid kinda way. MWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! What are friends for if not to laugh at your misfortunes?
Last week, way the heck out in the middle of nowhere up in the Deep Creek area east of Townsend, he's motoring up the mountain in his "hunting truck", which he put together out of a bunch of crap he had laying around so he wouldn't have to beat up his 2003 Chevy hunting and therefore face the wrath of his beloved bride, when the transmission cooler line decides it's gonna grab hold of the spinning front driveline and hold on tight. Things didn't turn out so good for the transmission line.
Brian doesn't call tow trucks either, get him and I together and we could jimmy rig a busted 747 and make it fly, but one of us alone isn't anything to sneeze at when it comes to Macgyvering things back together. While our other hunting buddy, John, rode into town on the 4 wheeler to get more transmission fluid, Brian cut up an old hunk of air hose that he had behind the seat and made a bypass between the two mangled stumps of what was left of the cooler lines, it's winter time, who needs a tranny cooler in the winter time? Anyway, after a whole lot of cussing I'm sure, they filled it back up with fluid and drove that sucker home. That, it turns out, was just the beginning of his bad luck.
I'm really glad that I've concentrated all of my efforts on finding the boy a deer this year, as in, I'm really glad that I haven't concentrated my efforts on going with Brian and John elk hunting this year. I had enough brushes with death last year to keep me happy for a while, I'll just sit back and watch for now.
This morning, while Jr. and I were turning around and heading home due to weather concerns, it turns out that Brian and John were doing the same thing, only up near Gardiner. As they were coming down off of the mountain it seems that a corner was a little icier that Brian thought it was, which is really odd, Brian's a really good driver. Anyway they missed the corner, went down a big embankment, and perched the truck on top of a big assed rock, rather effectively removing the front bumper or a portion thereof, and bending the rear driveline as well as performing a few other feats of custom body work. At last account they had gotten it out of the ditch and were up near Livingston on their way home, at 55 MPH since any faster made the thing vibrate so bad that involuntary tooth loss was a possibility. Did I mention that they didn't have his "hunting truck" this time? I'm sure glad that I won't be there when his wife sees it.
Now what did I tell you all about taking a new truck hunting?