6. He said What?? ... Camp Filosofee
A. Keeping 'em even
B. Feed to what
Doug and Bill were near the pecan bottoms down by the creek
on the south side of Mickey's place picking up a deer or working on stands.
Anyway, they each had started a beer when they finished the work at hand.
They got into The Cyclops (pre-stripes) and stated for the house. The way
out led through a cedar break. The cedars were thick and you had to drive
over almost as many as you drove around. Bill asked Doug to hold his beer
until they got in the clear. After many minutes of twistin 'n turnin they
hit the open park under the pecans and were on the way to the road. Bill reached
out his hand for his beer and Doug, with a puzzled look, says, "You know,
I forgot which one was which, but, I did keep 'em even!" - Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some
achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them.
Doug, the scourge of dove and quail (if they're flying), male
turkeys (if they aren't jakes), jack rabbits (if they're far enough away to be sporting), and
mean rocks (any where), has a softer place in his make up for most armadillos
(too easy), Raccoons (if they aren't eating your turkey carcasses off the patio),
less than big deer, (it's good to watch them), some snakes and most things that
he feels don't need shooting. Now, it's understood that feral cats can play havoc with the quail
population. The land owner will usually tell you that cats are not to be
tolerated. Ralph and Doug were sitting in the cabin, near the open door, relaxing
and just "thinkin' about it" when there was a soft meow. They watched as a black
kitten came rubbing along the outside of the screen door.
Doug asked "Do you think we ought to feed it?"
With due deliberation and insight Ralph inquired "To what?"
C. New or used
D. Dammit Kelsey
E. Male bonding and coarse language
F. If you see the rest of this deer, its mine ... ran into
the fence middle east side EB leg bone ..
Ralph needs to tell the first part of this ... Kathy
was to drop Bill off at the lease and they were the first ones there. She
remembers coming in and finding a note with a small piece of bone on it. "If
anyone finds the rest of this deer, it's mine. Ralph"
G. There's a snake in my pants
When the lease was at Mickey's, Bob
had a serious fear of snakes. Almost a phobia. Now he'd eat cooked ones but
had no use for live ones. Back then the house was real sparsely furnished.
There was a bedspring and mattress in two of the rooms and that was about
it. Every body had their gear in suitcases or duffles on the floor. The crew
was getting dressed for the afternoon hunt and from inside the front room
Bob calmly and quietly says, "There's a snake in my pants." Somebody
hoots, "Oh yeah?" Someone else follows with, "You're braggin'
again!" Bob had just taken his camo pants out of his suitcase, opened
them to step into them and noticed a small snake laying in the crotch. He
smiled as he thought his wife was playing another prank on him. She knew how
he felt about snakes and had probably packed the rubber snake in his clothes.
Then it moved and he reacted, but calmly. Bob steped softly on to the front
porch, in his underwear, with his pants held in front of him at arms length.
When he reached the edge of the porch he flung his pants into the yard with
a shivering, "Yeeeaaah!" The snake slithered away.
H. One more time and it's a dump in your hat
I. Even if there's a better way...?
When you have five or ten men making decisions, about the
how and where of a hunting camp, you have five or ten, often very divergent,
opinions. Once something is done, the most prevalent position is: anyone feeling
strongly enough about a job to do it, is doing it OK. If someone feels it's
not done right, then they should do it themselves. The comment on a less than
satisfactory job is most likely to be "Moose shit pie!" After a season or
so of hearing this comment, EB asked what it meant.
Here's the deal. A group of hunters got together for a month long moose hunt
in the north woods. They all pitched in for the groceries, but didn't want
to pay the extra for a camp cook. They cut cards and the looser was to be
cook until someone complained and then the complainer would take over the
cook tent. After a couple of days the designated cook was pretty tired of
the getting up extra early, missing hunting time getting the food cooked and
even more time getting the place cleaned up every day. He figured a few shells
in the eggs, burned biscuits and twigs in the stew would set him free. It
didn't work. So the next thing was to put together a really good looking pie
crust and fill it with moose pellets. He put in enough spices and sugar to
hide the smell, sealed top crust well and baked it. After supper he put on
a big pot of coffee and made a big deal of serving everyone a huge slice of
pie. With the first bite, faces screwed up tight, and gags were stifled.
The cook turned his back so the others couldn't the
the grin. "How is it fellows?"
The immediate response was "Hell, thist pie tastes like moose shit!"
And after but a short pause, "But it shore is
Those three words are sometimes equated with "one's just desserts"
on The Place.
J.What's it cost to get your tires rotated?
All of our leases were pretty straight-up places. There
was, on rare occasions, a bit of card playing. Every now and then someone
would misjudge his liquor, but there were never serious or full-time drinkers.
And although the common joke at the Price ranch was, "Now that we had
a microwave, air conditioner and shower, the next thing we needed was a dishwasher,
even if she didn't speak English", there were only wives at our leases.
That didn't keep one of the single fellows from, apparently, thinking on one
occasion that there should be more to some weekends than male companions.
One Saturday afternoon he announced that his truck had, for a long time, been
running all four tires in the same positions. It bothered him so much that
he'd decided to skip the evening hunt and go to Killeen to get his tires rotated.
It must've seemed a reasonable ploy to avoid ribbing and hoots from the camp.
No one questioned his decision, but, individually, each of us knew it wouldn't
have been that pressing a problem for the rest us. Afterwards, we remembered
that he did get awfully cleaned up to go to a BF Goodrich store. He came rolling
back early the next morning, looking a bit frazzled. Nothing was said directly,
either by him or the rest of the group, but "getting your tires rotated"
had a new meaning from then on.
K. I meant "don't clean them in the field" not
"don't clean them in the field",
L. Launch sequence at Llano
Turn down the radio. Put down the beer.