Hunting with Vern

[rockbilly]

Vern Lewis was one of those types of people that you would not seek for a hunting partner, he was a good ole boy, but had a tendency to partake from the Beam bottle much too often , which played hell with his hemorrhoids.  Vern just kinda gravitated into our group, always ready to go "a hunting"," knowing it had been years since he even shot at a deer.  His ole 30-30 looked like it had been used to drive fence post, and I would bet the ammo was at least 40 years old.

When deer season rolled around, Vern was always there to throw his money in the pot to buy grub for the 8-10 days we spent up on the Colorado-New Mexico line chasing mulies.  Cliff Barton wasn't much of a hunter either, but boy could he cook, and he assumed this duty purely to be in the outdoors, away from his nagging wife, and a chance to engage in a little game of poker.  Cliff was crazy about Blackberry Brandy, heck he even introduced me to it,  I came to enjoy a half cup of hot java topped off with a triple shot of Blackberry as we sat around the camp in the evening, or while donating a few bucks to boost Cliff's ego.

We arrived a few days early, scouted the area, and had a chance to spend a couple of afternoons fishing for Cutthroat Trout before the season opened.  Cliff and Vern sat around the camp and did what they do best while we scouted.  Opening day we bailed out early, had a hearty breakfast prepared by Cliff, and headed out well before daylight to our hunting locations.  Vern has selected a high point overlooking the creek, he crawled up, leaned against a big pine and got comfortable.  Never without a drink, he started sipping early, by noon he was pie-eyed and rolled over for a nap.  About four he woke up, and started sipping again, by dark he was out like a light.  We headed back to camp, No Vern!  The guys said "heck with him, if he wants to get drunk and sleep in the woods, then let him be."   While eating supper, Cliff rode us so hard about leaving him out there for the bears that we decided we should try to find him.  After about an hour we located him, sound asleep.  We got him up and headed back to camp.  Cliff had saved a plate of food for him, he settled in to eat, and pulled out another bottle of Beam to wash it down.  We left him and Cliff there by the fire as we slipped off to bed so we could get an early start.  

I could smell, bacon cooking as I got out of the sleeping bag, I jumped into my clothes, stepped out for a nature call, and a cup of Cliff's hot coffee.  Vern was still in the chair where we had left him the night before, he woke up, rubbed his eyes, and headed out for his nature call.  When he returned he grabbed a cup of coffee, a hotcake with a couple of slices of bacon and announced, "I'm ready, y'all going hunting?"  We gather our gear and head out, dropping Vern off at his place again.  Sometime around eleven that morning I heard a shot, darn, that's Vern.  After a while I could see Vern walking through the woods like a wild Indian looking for a place to "go." , I whistled to make sure he could see me before moving, and walked over to where he was.  He informed me that he had just shot the biggest deer he had ever seen.  We spent an hour or so looking for Vern's deer, not finding any blood, I finally decided that he had missed the deer,  he was complaining about his hemorrhoids and didn't want to look anymore so I took  him back to his point, and went back to the bluff I was setting near.   Just before dark a nice buck appeared, I took aim and dropped it in it's tracks.  By then the others were heading back to camp, they came over and helped me field dress the deer.  We strung it on a long pole, picked it up and set out on the long walk back to camp.  

One of the others went to get Vern, they found him passed out against the big pine.  Knowing Vern had a hemorrhoid problem, he came back to spot we had field dressed the deer, collected a fair sampling of deer guts, and went back to where Vern was sleeping.  He rolled Vern over, lowered his pants and put the deer guts in Vern's drawers.  

We had just finished supper, and were relaxing with a cup of coffee and shot of Blackberry Brandy when we heard Vern stumbling into camp.  As he neared the campfire, looking like death warmed over he said, "Boys, I sure hate to break up the party, but someone has to take me to the doctor."  Cliff had not been let in on the secrete, so he asked, "What's wrong?    Vern said, "you know I been having problems with my hemorrhoids, well they finally broke loose, and my guts fell out in my pants.  It was all we could do to contain the laughter, but poor ole Cliff, not knowing any better, asked how do you know your guts fell out.  Vern said, "they just fell out in my drawers, lucky they didn't go down my pants leg."  "I took my finger and stuck them back in there, but I am sure the doctor needs to fix em."  

I don't know why Vern quit hunting with us, but I heard he sobered up, and kinda got religion shortly after returning from the emergency room.  We are looking for someone to take Vern's place, got any takers?

[Land_Owner]

Take me!  Take me!  I have never hunted west of South Carolina much less west of the Mississippi.  Mule deer hunting in the southwestern U.S. would be the chance of a lifetime for this southern white tailed deer hunter...unless I froze to death first.  I hear it can get cold out there and it is a well known fact that a Native Floridian (I am 2nd generation) can freeze to death if the temperature drops below 72 deg. F.  I know, I have done it several times.  Still, while I don't volunteer to "be" Vern or to "replace" the Vern you knew, sign me up.  I'll hunt with you...and get it done right smart too.

[rockbilly]

Land owner.  While that story is exaggerated a bit (whole bunch), I have spent a lot of time hunting mule deer, all over New Mexico, Colorado, Idaho, Montana, and Arizona.  It is generally hard hunting, and requires one to be in good physical shape.  Due to my age, and health, I no longer venture too far from the beaten path like I use to do.   Any hunting today is done in an area I can drive into, and out of, otherwise I don't go.  Matter of fact, just two years ago an invitation was extended to me for a wilderness Elk hunt in Colorado.  My friend owned a little over a hundred acres right in the middle of the wilderness area.  You could drive in, but he said it often took as much as six hours, one way, after leaving the pavement, and if there were rain, or snow, it could take even longer.  Knowing that the altitude would have some bearing on my breathing, and that I was not really in shape to climb around in the woods, I passed.  

Yes, I have a lot of fond memories of trips to these places, and recommend everyone try it at least once.  Today is is awful hard for a group of friends to get hunting licenses for the same time and location, but if you can, I recommend you make at least one trip while still young enough, and in physical shape to bounce around the mountains.  A bit of information for all active duty, and retired military.  Many of the bases in these states have contracts through their Moral, Welfare and Recreation units to take military hunting.  Check the bases in those areas where you would like to hunt, and see if they offer anything.  The Air Force Academy has an area in a wilderness near the Academy.  They have a package price for license, processing game, etc, provide all food and quarters (heated tents) for a very reasonable fee.

[Land_Owner]

rockbilly.  I knew the story was embellished and a good bit too.  But on the off-chance there was a bit of reality in there and you were sort of looking for a partner (at least one time), I figured, why not pick me.  I am not as young as I used to be but I have a good hunt or two left in me and the ones that are cherished, whether hard or long or cold or not, are the ones that matter the most.  I will live out the rest of my days in the solitude of a southeastern deer stand, none better that I know, and take those hours spent on stand with me to the place beyond the sunset.  Live long rockbilly.  Tell all who will listen how we did it our way, how it used to be, how is should be.  That's our story and we're sticking to it.