Edge

We should split that.

Good job!

Frantically crawled back and forth under porch to break up a three way dogfight. Certainly got the cardio going and feeling it in the deltoids today. PS my ol yellow mutt beat the crap out of two high browsed boxers. Doesn't surprise me, seen him take on all comers and once sent three big dogs packing. Jack London would be proud.

Yeah but your wife carried it...

Still waiting for those pics!

Scary chitt. What area?

Finally some boots my size. What are your cross streets?

This calls for speculation on steroids, and on speedballs, hallucinogens.

Luke 6:31

Awesome

I'll keep pronouncing it 'Coos,' sounds more exotic and intriguing than saying, 'Cows.' tomato-tomato

Viet Kitchen 101 Cave Creek Hey Jerry, take the wife, it's masarap!

Older sister on the prowl in north PHX area. Lolol Just so happens I have a cougar tag to fill... Better hurry you only got a few days left . Lol !yeah and I ain't getting any younger.

Older sister on the prowl in north PHX area. Lolol Just so happens I have a cougar tag to fill...

Any improvement?

Looks like your ol'lady has made a lot of us 'jelly.' Has she got any sisters, or in my case, aunts? Congrats!

Never ceases to amaze me. I'll find a great hunting location with a view, look down and there's a lithic scatter of stone where an ancient hunter made his weapons of the day while enjoying the same panorama I am now.

I know he has a box of files, I'll ask if he wants some more, Thank You for the offer... If he doesn't want them, I'll take them for making knives and spurs.

Grinding beans and seed.

While a passenger in a buddy's truck, I was obliged to hear a podcast. It totally sucked, I learned nothing from it and the toilet humor took me back to the 5th grade. That entire time I was thinking, my buddy's got Johnny Cash's greatest hits on CD, why the heck ain't we listening to that?

Coes - cowz, coos to, too, two judgemental

That's a gorgeous buck!

Asian tranny by definition is an issue.

A funny thing about being remote the week of this hunt, I killed my buck on election day. Riding out and back towards civilization the following Thursday, we weren't yet aware of who had won the presidential election. Had the witch won, probably would have reprovisioned at the truck and then just ride back into the wilderness.

We seem to find spots a little out of the way. Once on the trail I think we encountered three people the rest of the week. I was planning on taking the old 88 .243 or the older 760 as a backup. Shot the .243 a couple days prior to leaving for the hunt because I had recently dropped it lightly from the bed onto the dog bed. So I was greatly disturbed to find it was shooting a foot high at 200 yards after just a gentle bump. How would it shoot after the riggers of a long trail ride? The 760 built in 1955 with 1.5-4X Weaver tube got the nod. I'm fairly certain that scope hasn't been touched since Nixon was in office. Three of us packed in with little drama. A green horse balked at jumping a deep Hoss eatin crevise but finally relented rather than be left behind. There were down trees to jump and some low branches (my horse is nearly 6' at the withers making most all branches, low branches). A few pack adjustments, an old Blivens on my stirrup let loose and I finished the last mile without. But there was water in the creek and grass in the meadows so we stretched some high lines and electric fence for the mules. Mike put up his new tent and started assembling his titanium stove; sweet. Got up the next morning predawn and hiked back down the trail that was full of bear scat. Hunkered down beside a tree after being woofed at by a bear I estimated to be within 60' in the dense brush. Put the antique scope on 1.5x and tried calling the bear in but to no avail. Walked out towards the meadow again to look along the creek when I saw two bucks running along the trail I came in on, the front buck was huge and at 200 yards his rack was plainly visible. I knelt down and cranked the eye tube back to 4x, there was a low limb on the tree beside me to rest on. Both bucks had stopped around 250 yards and were looking for me before fleeing the 20 yards left to reach the wall of brush ahead of them. Unfortunately the big, big buck stopped behind a dead bush and I couldn't draw a bead threw my narrow shooting lane. He took a couple bounds and disappeared into the heavy woods. I kept the post and wire sights on where he vanished and seconds later his 2X3 buddy took the same path. I fired as he made his last jump over a log. With the recoil and non existent scope objective I didn't know if he was hit or not. I could see the sun reflecting off the log he was jumping so I walked in a line to find out if I filled my tag. The 30-.06 180gr bullet entered behind his left jaw and exited the bridge of his nose. He never even flopped. It was noon my first day hunting and I was done with deer. PS, recoil pads are for sissy's.