Almost a wreck

Many moons ago, when I lived on the Summit, Beaver Creek drainage was my main haunt. Got to know it, like they say, like the back of my hand.

So one fine September day, MC and me, you remember M.C. whose castle was a Eucalyptus tree, decided to bow hunt up near Gray Wolf Lake.

Anyway, early in the morning we packed up at the trailhead. I was pack'n Ol' Buck mule and rid'n Honest Abe mule.

As we were leaving MC sez "my fish pole." Now against my better judgment I let him shove it into the top of the pack. Word to the wise, don't be in a hurry pack'n up. Buck was a big mule and no brush that high sez me.

Famous last words.

I was a great morning to be alive, nice cool air drifted down from God's country. About half way there, I began to notice the huckleberry bushes were getting awful tall. I just turned to check on Buck ,when I heard that old familiar sound of the drag – zzzz and old Buck began to live up to his name. Course Abe figured must be some horrible evil back there and joined in.

I managed to get them both off the trail into the timber and Buck snubbed around a tree. Then I made MC take that problem off Buck and carry it himself on his horse and take that reel off!!

We made the campsite where I'd packed in some hay ahead of time cause there was hardly enough feed for a goat there abouts. Next morning at daylight, the big bull let loose.

We made a plan and had him com'n when he suddenly took his harem and departed in haste. Wind in our favor and our cow call was sooo inviting. Then the problem appeared in the form of a huge mountain lion. And stalk'n us!!!

MC sez "He's going to attack us!!"

So I whispered, "Hit him with one of them there grouse arrows." So he clipped the cat's ear and glanced off his shoulder. And the goofy thing still came on. I jumped up and waved my arms, not wanting to yell. He finally decided we weren't cow elk and left.

So much for that day. We went fishing instead and we weren't disappointed.