I ain’t sure how I ain’t gotten around to sharin’ this yet,
but then again, I been so damned busy all summer that I ain’t had much in the
way of quality posts about anythin’.
But, I digress.
The ol’ man and my brothers are members of a huntin’ club
down in Maryland. It’s not a land-ownin’ club, but they organize a few travel hunts
every year, and because they already own the equipment and have the
connections, it can usually be done on the cheap. We normally just go to the
club meetin’s to socialize, eat and have a few beers, but when they started
talkin’ about a Colorado elk hunt a few months ago, I saw Dad perk up a bit. A western hunt for the mighty
wapiti has been at the top of both of our lists for a long, long time.
Apparently,
there are four rifle seasons for elk in Colorado. The first season is bull elk
only, with no other concurrent seasons, so it’s not as desirable as the others
when you can hunt mulies and goats at the same time. The licenses for the first
rifle season are plentiful, and it was almost a guaranteed draw. Dad and I
talked about it on the way home that day, and a few weeks later, made the
decision to put in for the draw and give it a shot.
A few weeks later, the draw results came back, and it was
time to start plannin’. There were some leftover tags, and Dad decided that if
Joe could get the time off from his new job, we would take him along for his
college graduation present. The stars aligned for him as well, so we were set
to go. The only thing that would have made it truly perfect is if Jesse could have swung it, but with three young'ns runnin' around, there was just no way he coulda swung it.
Needless to say, the last few months have been hectic as all
get-out, with almost every free minute dedicated to gettin’ everythin’ ready
for this trip. While I’ve been
on a western hunt before, that was a
fully-guided deal with all of our needs taken care of by someone else. This
trip will be unlike anythin’ else we’ve ever done. We’ll be in guide-style
canvas tents on public ground, at a much higher altitude than I’ve even been,
to boot. I usually don’t stress about anythin' too terribly much, but I’ve been runnin’
my feeble brain ragged the last few weeks, makin’ the last minute preparations
and hopin’ I ain’t forgotten anythin’.
So now, after months of plannin’, it’s just about time to
head out for our dream hunt. Dad and six other fellas are drivin’ out early
Tuesday mornin’. Joe and I don’t have as much vacation as them old bastards do,
so we’re gonna let the TSA have their wicked way with us as we take a plane to
Denver on Friday mornin’, where we’ll rent a ride and head to White River
National Forest to meet with the rest of the fellas.
The tags and equipment have been purchased, guns have been shot in, boots
have been broken in. I’ve spent the last few days packin’ everythin’ into the
war room, and we loaded up the trailers this mornin’. Everythin’ is purty much
taken care of aside from the gittin’ there. Now, I just gotta push through a
few days of work, and then we’ll be on our way.
