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| Ben Koelker and his buddy Drew Rouse with the 6x6 they called in using an Elkreel call. |
Scout caught on quickly last Saturday morning after she and I got the newspaper. She hung close as I started loading our rented Impala. You could see it in her eyes. She knew we were leaving her again. Ellen and I were heading off to the Rockies to visit with our mountain kids in Colorado. An hour later, like we always do, El and I high fived as we turned west up the Nodine Hill at Dresbach. Traffic on the interstate was okay. The bad news was that some people are crazy drivers for sure, cutting in and out and running up behind you and flashing their lights and such. The good news was that fuel prices kept dropping as we crossed Minnesota, Iowa and Nebraska. We stayed in Gothenburg, Nebraska the first night. The friendly young woman at the Howard Johnson’s recommended a nearby restaurant for supper and suggested - with a smile - I change out of my Wisconsin Badger Football shirt before we entered the bar there.
We walked into the Nebraska Bar and Grill just after the Corn Huskers had lost a heartbreaker to BYU on a hail Mary pass. There were some long faces, but the bartender/waitress was cordial and the menu just our style. I had a prime rib sandwich and El a cheeseburger with sweet potato fries. We watched the start of the Wisconsin/Alabama game there. We kept our own long faces for later in our hotel room - ouch.
We got into Avon on Sunday afternoon. Mark was waving from the deck at their condo as we pulled up. Whitney is on crutches after fracturing her right ankle and tearing some ligaments in her foot while on a hike with Mark and Ben a couple weeks ago. We all went over to our rented condo along Nottingham Lake and baked the two Rocky Rococo Pizzas we had brought from La Crosse. Ben was missing in the mountains of eastern Utah or western Colorado. He had been gone for ten days, hired to photograph an elk hunt in a special trophy unit for Elk Reel, an elk call company. His best friend Christine and their dog “Scout of the West” (aka Scoot) joined us. Ben later texted to save him some Rockys. (The kids crave good Wisco food like bratwurst and brat buns, New Glarus beer, and most of all, Rocky Rococo Pizza.)
We had planned to go to a friend’s ranch in the mountains on Labor Day morning to try and hear an elk bugle, but a steady rainfall along with the news that a bear had killed one of their rancher friend’s calves, put a damper on that. Fish and Wildlife officials were coming in to check the bear kill, so the elk would most likely be AWOL. We had breakfast at Milano’s in Edwards and went shopping at the Bookworm, a book store there. Mark also needed new hiking boots and a lightweight blanket for an adventure he planned so we shopped at Ptarmigan Sports; happy birthday a little early, Son. The adventure? Well he and two of his friends, Joe and Anthony, are going to try to complete “the traverse,” a 40-mile trek above 13,000 feet in two days or so. It starts just south of the mountain top town, Leadville. He says only one person has ever completed it. Mark tried it once but had to quit. It’s an even bigger challenge for them now they say. Back at our condo that evening, Mark built a fire in the fireplace and he and Ellen went to the store. Whitney and I visited on the couch and watched part of a Jim Gaffigan special.
On Tuesday Ellen took Whitney to the doctor. The others were working, so I went for a walk around Nottingham Lake in Avon. The lake was like glass and reflected mountain tops and high clouds from every direction. I had a pleasant sit, reading some of “The Zoo Keeper’s Wife”, and started this journal before Ellen got back. El and I went to Vail for lunch at Moe’s Original BBQ, one of our favorite stops while in the valley. We had pulled pork sandwiches “Bama-style.” Bama-style means it has their special coleslaw piled on top of the pork. I had pork and beans and more slaw on the side while El had tomato bisque. We shopped at Charlie’s Tees. I saw one I particularly liked that read: “If God wanted us to be vegetarians, he would have made broccoli more fun to shoot at.” (I love broccoli by the way, served as a side to venison or chicken or, well you get the idea.) Anyway, Ben got back on Tuesday evening, and after he had a shower, we all got together for a sit-down supper at our condo.
Ben said Ramone, the hunter he was filming for, passed on several huge elk bulls early on but wanted to wait for a bigger one. On the last morning, they had a 6x7 coming in when some range cattle came through spooking the bull. Anyway, he was home for a night and went out hunting the next morning up on Vail Pass. More on Colorado next week . . .
I have my stuff ready to go, and the Packers just won, so I suppose I had better get to my tree stand and make the most of this beautiful afternoon and evening. The second night of the bow season has sometimes been a lucky one for me. I have taken four bucks on the second night. Just maybe there will be a story to tell tonight.
Until next time, get out - my 45th class reunion is this Saturday. I am looking forward to it. I have never missed one actually. Six of my classmates have moved on to the next level since 1970. Most recently Greg Lenz. He was one of my best friends from youth and music. I am not against growing old gracefully, but it is hard to get my head around it considering I only look like I am 39 or maybe only feel like I am 17 or something like that. I remember Greg, Kim Klauer, Don Schnering, and Rob Ploessl and I reclining on a Mississippi sandbar at midnight one summer night right after our senior year. We were contemplating the night sky, especially shooting stars and the Milky Way. The turning of the century in 2000 somehow came up. By then we would all be officially 47 years old. We all figured that was so far into the future that it would never happen and we would be young forever. Regardless, I know that the girl I live with sometimes suggests that I act like I am even younger than 17. Enjoy.
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