Passing through Memphis, Missouri listening to the game.
Finally leaving Kansas, if you ask Michael, Kansas goes on forever.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Road trip pictures part 2
Passing through Memphis, Missouri listening to the game.
And through door number....
We have a lot of mixed feelings this weekend. We got word from both Des Moines University and Kirksville College of Medicine. It seems we struck out. I was outright denied at Kirksville, where I thought the interview went well and felt I had good chance, and wait-listed at DMU. While the wait list is not a straight denial, it basically means I don’t have a chance there either, as their class is filled and interviews are still ongoing. That means a few selected students will get “accepted pending a seat” and should space open up, those applicant will go first.
I still have an interview scheduled at Midwestern in Phoenix, and can only hope for the best. My faith is waning. Technically, I still have open applications at Penn State and Drexel (both in Pennsylvania), and have been told by both universities that my application is still being considered. It’s just too late to hold my breath.
Needless to say, we are frustrated. The whole situation tastes slightly more bitter considering I declined a seat at Rocky Vista College of Medicine in Denver. It’s hard to look back and wonder if we made the right decision. We were forced to make a choice within two weeks of receiving the acceptance letter, and had to make a $2,000 deposit within a month of the acceptance. The problem was that I had interviews schedule at DMU and Kirksville after that month, and deposits are non-refundable. We just didn’t have that money to burn and never felt very comfortable with Rocky Vista (there is a lot of boring politic stuff involved), so I withdrew my application.
It is hard to say for sure, but if was to get a do-over, I think I may still decline Rocky Vista. All medical schools are not created equal. I did see a lot of promise in Rocky Vista (the school is less than one year old) and it may become an excellent university. I just couldn’t justify coughing up $250,000 while there is still a chance it could fail (especially considering the politics I mentioned earlier). There are still some wrinkles to be ironed out. If I were single and my decisions only affected me, maybe, but the gamble was too great for my wife and (soon-to-arrive) child.
While I am not giving up on the medical school options I have left, we are taking a hard look at what to do next. I don’t think I’m going to reapply, but I haven’t shut that door yet. Maybe not this year, but in another year or two, maybe I’ll be re-inspired.
I am also considering pursuing a master’s or doctorate degree, most likely in biochemistry, but it may be too late to get accepted into a class this year. I’m checking out the options and making contacts currently.
And, of course, I am in a career-type position currently, doing research for Recapture Metals, Inc. in Blanding. I have enjoyed the job, and have been told that I have a future with the company. All things considered, it may not be bad to settle in and enjoy the good hours and enjoyable work.
It feels like an old game show, where I have to decide if I want to give up my pretty nice prizes to open a mystery door. That door could either contain the beautiful new car, or maybe just a flowery tea kettle. I hope you understand the analogy.
Suggestions are welcome.
I still have an interview scheduled at Midwestern in Phoenix, and can only hope for the best. My faith is waning. Technically, I still have open applications at Penn State and Drexel (both in Pennsylvania), and have been told by both universities that my application is still being considered. It’s just too late to hold my breath.
Needless to say, we are frustrated. The whole situation tastes slightly more bitter considering I declined a seat at Rocky Vista College of Medicine in Denver. It’s hard to look back and wonder if we made the right decision. We were forced to make a choice within two weeks of receiving the acceptance letter, and had to make a $2,000 deposit within a month of the acceptance. The problem was that I had interviews schedule at DMU and Kirksville after that month, and deposits are non-refundable. We just didn’t have that money to burn and never felt very comfortable with Rocky Vista (there is a lot of boring politic stuff involved), so I withdrew my application.
It is hard to say for sure, but if was to get a do-over, I think I may still decline Rocky Vista. All medical schools are not created equal. I did see a lot of promise in Rocky Vista (the school is less than one year old) and it may become an excellent university. I just couldn’t justify coughing up $250,000 while there is still a chance it could fail (especially considering the politics I mentioned earlier). There are still some wrinkles to be ironed out. If I were single and my decisions only affected me, maybe, but the gamble was too great for my wife and (soon-to-arrive) child.
While I am not giving up on the medical school options I have left, we are taking a hard look at what to do next. I don’t think I’m going to reapply, but I haven’t shut that door yet. Maybe not this year, but in another year or two, maybe I’ll be re-inspired.
I am also considering pursuing a master’s or doctorate degree, most likely in biochemistry, but it may be too late to get accepted into a class this year. I’m checking out the options and making contacts currently.
And, of course, I am in a career-type position currently, doing research for Recapture Metals, Inc. in Blanding. I have enjoyed the job, and have been told that I have a future with the company. All things considered, it may not be bad to settle in and enjoy the good hours and enjoyable work.
It feels like an old game show, where I have to decide if I want to give up my pretty nice prizes to open a mystery door. That door could either contain the beautiful new car, or maybe just a flowery tea kettle. I hope you understand the analogy.
Suggestions are welcome.
Pictures from trip
This is the Mississippi River
Christina 23 1/2 weeks pregnant at the Mississippi River.
Us at the Mississippi River (I'm not sure what Michael is wearing)
We crossed over the Mississippi River into Illinois, the 7th state for our trip.
We finally made it to Nauvoo, it took a little longer than we thought, mainly because we took a few too many wrong turns. 
The Nauvoo Te
mple
Christina in front of the Nauvoo temple.
It was a little darker then we hoped it would be by the time we got there. But we still got some neat night temple pictures.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Road Trip!
As most of you probably know, last week was pretty wild for us. We had interviews at two medical schools. The schools were within four hours of each other, but halfway across the country from us. We were fortunate enough to get the interviews scheduled on consecutive days, which saved us mega travel bucks. (I’ll talk more about medical school and our status there in another blog.) It also made it a tough decision about how to travel there, as flying was fairly expensive and I would have had to rent a car. Driving was pretty expensive, too, but Christina could come at no extra charge. In the end, there was probably little difference in cost, but we were able to make it a vacation of sorts (albeit a very fast and furious one) and have some good quality time together.
We left Blanding Tuesday afternoon and trekked the first four and a half hours to Glenwood Springs, Colorado. This is the town right at the bottom of that really cool stretch of I-70 through Glenwood Pass, where both directions of the freeway are essentially stacked on top of each other as the interstate winds through a very narrow, deep and rugged canyon. Glenwood Springs itself is divided into two very distinct halves. The Colorado River and the interstate run directly through the city. This may make for a scenic city, but for us, it just made horribly frustrated as we tried to navigate across one of the two (maybe three?) places you can cross from one side of the city to the other.
We woke early Wednesday morning to snow on the car and covering the parking lot. As we headed out, the weather looked quite imposing, but soon broke back into blue skies. Unfortunately, that was short lived, and soon we were back into the snow. Only now we were also trying to climb over the Rocky Mountains, too. We had a slow, scary drive up the series of passes with two to three inches of snow and more falling. Once we topped out and passed through Johnson Tunnel, though, the weather actually broke for good and we enjoyed dry roads through the rest of Colorado and all the way across Nebraska.
We arrived in Iowa and then into Des Moines Wednesday night and found our hotel after a short detour all the way around the city… and back again. I interviewed at Des Moines University in the morning and into the afternoon. I was a little frustrated and very tired when Christina picked me up, and definitely ready to drive straight to the hotel where I could sit and watch a basketball game, but she had other ideas.
I reassumed the driver’s seat and Christina returned to navigation duties as she had been assigned. We headed south out of Des Moines and Christina began to give directions. I began to notice something didn’t quite seem right when we turned onto a little tiny two-lane highway toward a town called Fort Madison. I still didn’t think much of it until Christina became very frustrated because she couldn’t find the bridge. You know, the one that crossed the Mississippi River. I was pretty sure it wasn’t necessary to cross the Mississippi River to get from Iowa to Missouri. We found the bridge soon enough, crossed the giant river and continued straight into Nauvoo, Illinois. We had a good time looking at the temple and several of the other historic sites nearby. As darkness fell, we made one final stop at the gravesite of the Prophet Joseph Smith, taking in the significance for a moment before climbing back into the car to wind our way along the river and finally into Missouri.
The road from Nauvoo to Kirksville, Missouri, was about as much of a highway as the road into Fort Madison. We seemed to go up and down and around innumerable hills and crossed four rickety looking one-lane bridges. It was interesting, though, that we passed right through Memphis, Missouri, while we were listening to Missouri play Memphis in the NCAA basketball tournament.
The next day we visited the campus of Kirksville College of Medicine. Christina was invited to attend the day and she enjoyed it, even the visit to the anatomy lab with a dissection in progress. After the interview, we climbed back into the car and headed toward the dark skies over Kansas City.
We stopped for the night in Lawrence, Kansas, the home of the University of Kansas Jayhawks, who were playing in the Sweet Sixteen against Michigan State. Overall, that had little effect on us except the nostalgia of being there. We did go out to dinner and found the restaurant parking lot packed to the gills. Cars were everywhere imaginable. We ended up parking in the lot of a nearby department store and walking to the restaurant. We expected it to be packed as well, but it wasn’t. In fact, there were only about four people in the restaurant. Turns out the restaurant shared its parking lot with a couple of sports bars. The bars, of course, were packed. So much so that people were gathered around the doors which had been propped open. Mind you, it was windy, rainy and freezing. Freezing. Literally. The rain would freeze pretty much as soon as it hit the ground, if not sooner.
The freezing rain was the front edge of a storm the walloped Denver and was predicted to bring around 12 inches of snow to Kansas City. Needless to say, it had us nervous. Fortunately, the heart of the storm swirled down below I-70 and we snuck out of Lawrence early Saturday morning hoping to get past the worst of it. While we probably did manage to get around the worst of it, we didn’t miss it. We spent around three hours driving through snowy conditions on top of a freeway that could as well have been an ice skating rink. During that long three hours, I don’t think we ever drove more than 40 mph, and were probably less than that for the majority of the time. We figure it put us behind our schedule by at least two hours, possibly more. It also made it seem like Kansas went on forever. And ever. And ever.
We spent another night in another hotel in Denver, and I watched my March Madness bracket go down in flames when Villanova beat Pitt at the buzzer.
On Sunday, we finished the journey, listening to last fall’s General Conference to make up for missing church. It was rather uneventful outside of a section of freeway near Crescent Junction, Utah, where the wind blew wild. We laughed as we dodged tumbleweeds that crossed the highway like overzealous herds of sheep, only we didn’t always miss. The first one we hit exploded like a water balloon, shooting dried reeds over the top of the car. The dust was so thick in places, we couldn’t see oncoming cars, which was an adventure in itself.
Through all that happened, we never doubted the hand of God in our travels. We faced off with some tough weather, but were spared the catastrophic weather thousands others faced during the weekend. The car ran like a champ, our gas mileage was respectable and we were never in a situation beyond that which we felt we could handle.
What a world we live in now. Just think, we made the journey from Nauvoo to Utah in three days. Three fairly easy days. And though we passed through some rough weather, we were never in danger of frost bite, starvation or freezing to death. It is amazing how much we can take for granted. I am thankful for the blessings we have, but also for the example set by the pioneers. Incredible.
We left Blanding Tuesday afternoon and trekked the first four and a half hours to Glenwood Springs, Colorado. This is the town right at the bottom of that really cool stretch of I-70 through Glenwood Pass, where both directions of the freeway are essentially stacked on top of each other as the interstate winds through a very narrow, deep and rugged canyon. Glenwood Springs itself is divided into two very distinct halves. The Colorado River and the interstate run directly through the city. This may make for a scenic city, but for us, it just made horribly frustrated as we tried to navigate across one of the two (maybe three?) places you can cross from one side of the city to the other.
We woke early Wednesday morning to snow on the car and covering the parking lot. As we headed out, the weather looked quite imposing, but soon broke back into blue skies. Unfortunately, that was short lived, and soon we were back into the snow. Only now we were also trying to climb over the Rocky Mountains, too. We had a slow, scary drive up the series of passes with two to three inches of snow and more falling. Once we topped out and passed through Johnson Tunnel, though, the weather actually broke for good and we enjoyed dry roads through the rest of Colorado and all the way across Nebraska.
We arrived in Iowa and then into Des Moines Wednesday night and found our hotel after a short detour all the way around the city… and back again. I interviewed at Des Moines University in the morning and into the afternoon. I was a little frustrated and very tired when Christina picked me up, and definitely ready to drive straight to the hotel where I could sit and watch a basketball game, but she had other ideas.
I reassumed the driver’s seat and Christina returned to navigation duties as she had been assigned. We headed south out of Des Moines and Christina began to give directions. I began to notice something didn’t quite seem right when we turned onto a little tiny two-lane highway toward a town called Fort Madison. I still didn’t think much of it until Christina became very frustrated because she couldn’t find the bridge. You know, the one that crossed the Mississippi River. I was pretty sure it wasn’t necessary to cross the Mississippi River to get from Iowa to Missouri. We found the bridge soon enough, crossed the giant river and continued straight into Nauvoo, Illinois. We had a good time looking at the temple and several of the other historic sites nearby. As darkness fell, we made one final stop at the gravesite of the Prophet Joseph Smith, taking in the significance for a moment before climbing back into the car to wind our way along the river and finally into Missouri.
The road from Nauvoo to Kirksville, Missouri, was about as much of a highway as the road into Fort Madison. We seemed to go up and down and around innumerable hills and crossed four rickety looking one-lane bridges. It was interesting, though, that we passed right through Memphis, Missouri, while we were listening to Missouri play Memphis in the NCAA basketball tournament.
The next day we visited the campus of Kirksville College of Medicine. Christina was invited to attend the day and she enjoyed it, even the visit to the anatomy lab with a dissection in progress. After the interview, we climbed back into the car and headed toward the dark skies over Kansas City.
We stopped for the night in Lawrence, Kansas, the home of the University of Kansas Jayhawks, who were playing in the Sweet Sixteen against Michigan State. Overall, that had little effect on us except the nostalgia of being there. We did go out to dinner and found the restaurant parking lot packed to the gills. Cars were everywhere imaginable. We ended up parking in the lot of a nearby department store and walking to the restaurant. We expected it to be packed as well, but it wasn’t. In fact, there were only about four people in the restaurant. Turns out the restaurant shared its parking lot with a couple of sports bars. The bars, of course, were packed. So much so that people were gathered around the doors which had been propped open. Mind you, it was windy, rainy and freezing. Freezing. Literally. The rain would freeze pretty much as soon as it hit the ground, if not sooner.
The freezing rain was the front edge of a storm the walloped Denver and was predicted to bring around 12 inches of snow to Kansas City. Needless to say, it had us nervous. Fortunately, the heart of the storm swirled down below I-70 and we snuck out of Lawrence early Saturday morning hoping to get past the worst of it. While we probably did manage to get around the worst of it, we didn’t miss it. We spent around three hours driving through snowy conditions on top of a freeway that could as well have been an ice skating rink. During that long three hours, I don’t think we ever drove more than 40 mph, and were probably less than that for the majority of the time. We figure it put us behind our schedule by at least two hours, possibly more. It also made it seem like Kansas went on forever. And ever. And ever.
We spent another night in another hotel in Denver, and I watched my March Madness bracket go down in flames when Villanova beat Pitt at the buzzer.
On Sunday, we finished the journey, listening to last fall’s General Conference to make up for missing church. It was rather uneventful outside of a section of freeway near Crescent Junction, Utah, where the wind blew wild. We laughed as we dodged tumbleweeds that crossed the highway like overzealous herds of sheep, only we didn’t always miss. The first one we hit exploded like a water balloon, shooting dried reeds over the top of the car. The dust was so thick in places, we couldn’t see oncoming cars, which was an adventure in itself.
Through all that happened, we never doubted the hand of God in our travels. We faced off with some tough weather, but were spared the catastrophic weather thousands others faced during the weekend. The car ran like a champ, our gas mileage was respectable and we were never in a situation beyond that which we felt we could handle.
What a world we live in now. Just think, we made the journey from Nauvoo to Utah in three days. Three fairly easy days. And though we passed through some rough weather, we were never in danger of frost bite, starvation or freezing to death. It is amazing how much we can take for granted. I am thankful for the blessings we have, but also for the example set by the pioneers. Incredible.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Should be getting ready
Ok so I really shouldn't be blogging. Because I really should be finishing packing for our trip. We are leaving today at 1pm and are driving to Iowa, for another Medical school interview. I really should finish cleaning the house. I'll keep you updated.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Denver: February 17-19, 2009
We went to Denver for one of Michael's Medical interviews, back in February. And we even had time to play a little. I think my favorite parts were the sharks and the string-rays you could touch. But we didn't get any pictures.
Not sure what kind of fish this is, but it looks like an old man.
Michael as bubble boy
Christina in a bubble
Monday, March 2, 2009
Big News!
At times in life, everyone must come clean;
For lies told, truth dodged, secrets kept unseen.
Many conversations have come and gone,
With words phrased so as not to let on.
And answers to questions asked directly,
Were always “No” so nobody would see.
And so it grew, and increased in size,
But no one has yet guessed our surprise!
And pay no mind to past words spent;
‘Cause we’ll receive with joy what Heaven sent:
A sweet little blessing to call our own,
Coming this summer to exalt our home!
Yep. Yessirree. Anybody have a cigar? I’m going to be a daddy. And Christina, a mommy. It’s official.
After 20 weeks, his little heart is beating like crazy and it is hard to believe how big he is already. And yes, it is a he. Cool, huh?
Christina insisted he stay a secret for as long as possible. It’s no longer possible. I’m not sure if it is her tummy, starting to show just a little, or my big mouth, which would prefer telling everyone I meet, that more fully prevents any more secrecy. Either way, it is time to shout it from the rooftops, so to speak.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Web 2.0 – What does it really mean?
I'm taking a class and this video was part of the class.
The video is about text. The professor who made this video used text to describe the way that text has changed because of advances in technology. He placed text in different location to illustrate the changes. All of this was done to make a point about how we are responsible for changing culture.
The video is about text. The professor who made this video used text to describe the way that text has changed because of advances in technology. He placed text in different location to illustrate the changes. All of this was done to make a point about how we are responsible for changing culture.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Mountain Dog
Her first family simply called her Runt. We named her Bella de la Runte when she came to live with us. My mom stuck a middle name in there – making her Bella MopIt de la Runte – when she realized how quickly Bella could clean up after eating children.
Today, we must find a place for another title, perhaps Bella MopIt de la Runte, Mountain Dog. Or maybe it should be Cliff Hanger. Or Gasp-Inducing-Gray-Hair-Causing-Heart-Attack-Bringing-Rim-Running Rocket.
You see, yesterday we took Bella on a hike in the rugged Mule Canyon area. Bella has been on a few hikes before, but she had never seen terrain quite like this. We hiked up a dry river bed to a mesa-like outcrop of rocks. My goal was to get on top of the small mesa to get a good look at the area around us. As we began to work up the rocks, which were essentially small cliffs in some places, Bella seemed to explode into a fearless energy ball, racing up rock faces that were far too steep for us lowly humans to even attempt. Once she reached the top, she would turn around and jump off (much to Christina’s horror), sometimes leaping off ledges three or four times her two-foot stature. She wasn’t doing it out of necessity; she was doing it because she wanted to.
When we reached the top of the mesa, which was situated atop cliffs 10 or more feet high most of the way around, a new sound filled the hills: “Bella! You are too close to the edge. Too Close! Bella! Come here, now! Bella! Too Close!” It was Christina, who was pulling her hair out as Bella raced across the top of the mesa, screeching to a halt only when she came within inches of the treacherous edge.
For what it’s worth, Bella actually scared me pretty bad once too. She raced along the edge of a ledge that quickly became too small for her to keep her balance. As her feet started to slide downward, she paused, looking like she wished she could turn around. It was too late, though, and she realized it. Instead, she leapt off the ledge that was taller than me. (I was at the bottom, but I am not nearly quick enough to answer Christina’s plea of “Catch her, honey!”) It was a heart-stopping moment as she seemed to float there, so high in the air, before she came crashing down. I would like to know what went through Bella’s mind. Maybe it was, “Hmm, this is further than I thought it was.” Or, “Oops, shouldn’t have done that.” Personally, I have to believe it was, “Look at the goofy looks on the faces of those silly humans. They obviously don’t know who they are dealing with.” She landed the leap on all four paws, with barely even a stutter (an Olympic gymnast would have been proud) and raced on her happy little way.
We hiked a similar area today, partly because we were bored this afternoon and partly because we had forgotten the camera. Bella’s antics hadn’t slowed a bit, and our trip got cut short because Christina couldn’t handle the stress any longer. Of course, today’s treacherous edge was more like 100 feet than yesterday’s 10, so I can see where she is coming from. However, the adventure didn’t end before we snapped some pictures of the little maniac racing up and down some steep rocks faces with her long pink tongue hanging out of her perpetually smiling mouth.
Today, we must find a place for another title, perhaps Bella MopIt de la Runte, Mountain Dog. Or maybe it should be Cliff Hanger. Or Gasp-Inducing-Gray-Hair-Causing-Heart-Attack-Bringing-Rim-Running Rocket.
You see, yesterday we took Bella on a hike in the rugged Mule Canyon area. Bella has been on a few hikes before, but she had never seen terrain quite like this. We hiked up a dry river bed to a mesa-like outcrop of rocks. My goal was to get on top of the small mesa to get a good look at the area around us. As we began to work up the rocks, which were essentially small cliffs in some places, Bella seemed to explode into a fearless energy ball, racing up rock faces that were far too steep for us lowly humans to even attempt. Once she reached the top, she would turn around and jump off (much to Christina’s horror), sometimes leaping off ledges three or four times her two-foot stature. She wasn’t doing it out of necessity; she was doing it because she wanted to.
When we reached the top of the mesa, which was situated atop cliffs 10 or more feet high most of the way around, a new sound filled the hills: “Bella! You are too close to the edge. Too Close! Bella! Come here, now! Bella! Too Close!” It was Christina, who was pulling her hair out as Bella raced across the top of the mesa, screeching to a halt only when she came within inches of the treacherous edge.
For what it’s worth, Bella actually scared me pretty bad once too. She raced along the edge of a ledge that quickly became too small for her to keep her balance. As her feet started to slide downward, she paused, looking like she wished she could turn around. It was too late, though, and she realized it. Instead, she leapt off the ledge that was taller than me. (I was at the bottom, but I am not nearly quick enough to answer Christina’s plea of “Catch her, honey!”) It was a heart-stopping moment as she seemed to float there, so high in the air, before she came crashing down. I would like to know what went through Bella’s mind. Maybe it was, “Hmm, this is further than I thought it was.” Or, “Oops, shouldn’t have done that.” Personally, I have to believe it was, “Look at the goofy looks on the faces of those silly humans. They obviously don’t know who they are dealing with.” She landed the leap on all four paws, with barely even a stutter (an Olympic gymnast would have been proud) and raced on her happy little way.
We hiked a similar area today, partly because we were bored this afternoon and partly because we had forgotten the camera. Bella’s antics hadn’t slowed a bit, and our trip got cut short because Christina couldn’t handle the stress any longer. Of course, today’s treacherous edge was more like 100 feet than yesterday’s 10, so I can see where she is coming from. However, the adventure didn’t end before we snapped some pictures of the little maniac racing up and down some steep rocks faces with her long pink tongue hanging out of her perpetually smiling mouth.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Mighty, Mighty Hunters
It started with a yard sale. Seriously.
Sometime in early June, Christina and I stopped by a yard sale in our neighborhood. We went for a dresser, and left with a bow and a dozen arrows. It was a used PSE F2. A couple years old, and very definitely used, but we couldn’t pass. Christina had been asking for a bow for a while, so how could I say no?
Of course, the bow was for me. It was way too big for her – and there is no way she could pull that monster back. It fit me so well.
Christina came out better, anyway. As usual. She got a brand new bow: A left-handed Parker Buckshot that only weighed about 2 ½ pounds. Then came the arrows, the sight pins, the release aids and what must have been $10 million worth of stuff to pack in a backpack. Oh, yeah. And two archery deer tags.
What were we thinking? I’m guess I’m still not sure either. I had never bow hunted, and Christina had never hunted for anything – except a lost sock, maybe.
After a month of chasing deer around, all the stuff we bought is still in the pack, and in mint condition. Everything except one broadhead. It’s in a tree. Deep.
Seriously, though, we had a great time, even though we didn’t kill anything. Christina is actually a fairly effective hunter, as long as she was back in the truck before it was dark. (That’s when the bears come out. It’s true. She swears.) Christina and her little Buckshot fired off arrows at two different bucks, and both times she just barely missed. Deer dodge well. Don’t believe me? Ever shot one with a bow? Me neither. I also saw two arrows sail past their intended target. But I didn’t miss that tree. (Yep. The one with the broadhead in it.) Of course, trees can’t dodge.
Our hunt started slow, and we trudged through some frustrating evenings when nothing went right. But we kept going. And going. The action did pick up toward the end of the season, when I got looks at several pretty good bucks, but those durn things didn’t care to stick around and chat, and the season closed with Christina and my father watching a juggernaut buck and his quorum walk peacefully into the trees about 100 yards behind where I was sitting.
If you want all the details, I’d be happy to fill you in. Just give me a call. Seriously. I can talk deer all night.
Sometime in early June, Christina and I stopped by a yard sale in our neighborhood. We went for a dresser, and left with a bow and a dozen arrows. It was a used PSE F2. A couple years old, and very definitely used, but we couldn’t pass. Christina had been asking for a bow for a while, so how could I say no?
Of course, the bow was for me. It was way too big for her – and there is no way she could pull that monster back. It fit me so well.
Christina came out better, anyway. As usual. She got a brand new bow: A left-handed Parker Buckshot that only weighed about 2 ½ pounds. Then came the arrows, the sight pins, the release aids and what must have been $10 million worth of stuff to pack in a backpack. Oh, yeah. And two archery deer tags.
What were we thinking? I’m guess I’m still not sure either. I had never bow hunted, and Christina had never hunted for anything – except a lost sock, maybe.
After a month of chasing deer around, all the stuff we bought is still in the pack, and in mint condition. Everything except one broadhead. It’s in a tree. Deep.
Seriously, though, we had a great time, even though we didn’t kill anything. Christina is actually a fairly effective hunter, as long as she was back in the truck before it was dark. (That’s when the bears come out. It’s true. She swears.) Christina and her little Buckshot fired off arrows at two different bucks, and both times she just barely missed. Deer dodge well. Don’t believe me? Ever shot one with a bow? Me neither. I also saw two arrows sail past their intended target. But I didn’t miss that tree. (Yep. The one with the broadhead in it.) Of course, trees can’t dodge.
Our hunt started slow, and we trudged through some frustrating evenings when nothing went right. But we kept going. And going. The action did pick up toward the end of the season, when I got looks at several pretty good bucks, but those durn things didn’t care to stick around and chat, and the season closed with Christina and my father watching a juggernaut buck and his quorum walk peacefully into the trees about 100 yards behind where I was sitting.
If you want all the details, I’d be happy to fill you in. Just give me a call. Seriously. I can talk deer all night.
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