When we left each other last week, we had just made it to our outfitter in Upton, Wyoming.
This is one outfitter that I love to hunt with, although he is really strange. He and his lovely wife, who by the way is a research doctor, live away from everything — roads, grocery stores, doctors, people, everything. They don’t know what a Walmart store is, and of course I love that. I am going into my 10th year of not shopping at Walmart, and at 71 years of age, I don’t figure that will change.
After we returned from our scouting trip on his 3000-acre spread, it was time to get settled in to his lodge. I handed ‘Carl’ (remember I told you I was traveling with someone who had not been outside Kentucky who reminded me of Carl from “Sling Blade,”) the key to get in the outside door. Of course it looked like a credit card, and as I handed him the key, he asked, “Why do I need a credit card?”
I explained it is the key to get into the lodge, not a credit card. I told him to open the outside door, that I would get some more things from the truck. I returned to find him standing right where I had left him, looking at the key.
“What is wrong?” I asked.
He said, “How does this thing work?”
I showed him, and walked with him to the room door, then I said, “Take everything into your room, I will get another load from the truck.”
When I got back with the second load, there he stood, trying to figure how to use the key. I showed him again, then went to my room. A short time later, there was a knock on my door. He had locked the door with it opened, and couldn’t get it closed.
The cook called and said supper was ready, so off to the mess hall we went. Carl, not his real name as you know by now, told the cook he was on an Adkins Diet, and could she please fix him something that fit that diet.
Never in my years of hunting with outfitters has anyone ever asked the cook to fix a different meal than what was already fixed. The cook fell right into fixing him something to eat, while I dined on the best salad, the finest cut of meat that money could buy, and a bottle of the finest wine.
Carl had to wait, and they brought him some mule deer meat. Carl seemed to enjoy it, so enough said about that.
The next morning was the “BIG DAY”, opening day of season. As I dropped Carl off at his blind, I thought what can he do to mess this up? Dut I was only a mile away, and knew I would probably kill out not much after daylight.
Was I ever so wrong about that. I kept having these strange feelings something wasn’t quite right, and decided to go check on my hunting buddy. I was in a state of shock when his blind, or more like where his blind was came into view. I rushed over to the edge of the canyon, and looked over, there he was, blind and all, at the bottom of the canyon. He had gone to sleep, fell out of his chair, and that took him, chair and blind, all to the bottom. He was, as far as I could tell, dazed, but I didn’t see anything broken, so I went down to help him up.
I told him, “You need to stay alert out here, or you will really get hurt, or worse, killed.”
The hunt was done for the rest of day one.
Next week we’ll look at day two of our trip out west.