Adobe Lodge

Howdy Skipper-

         Your recap of Hunt D, while accurate, was a bit incomplete.    Incidentally, I am writing this from the Donner Pass in California, or wherever the hell it is.

          But I digress (as usual).    The morning of November 2, 2009 dawned peacefully on the meads, rocks and rills of Adobe Lodge and its environs.   The day became warmer and warmer----a comfortable 72.9 defrees Fahrenheit.    God was in His Heaven and all was rite with the world.    (Peace in the Middle East was just around the corner). Guide Charlie Bowers and Skinner Dave G. suggested I don a Gillie suit and lie in wait for a certain Odecoilus Virginianis or mebbe they sed Coitus Interruptus.    (They talk a whole bunch better Latin than yours truly).    Forthwith, I lurked quietly in the bushes, and sure enuf, here comes the boy or his reasonable facsimile.   But by this time the weather had changed substantially.   Temp had plummeted to 10 below Zero Degrees F.    The wind was now a brisk 42 miles per hour and blowing from Six Quadrants simultaneously and even at the same time.    After making allowances for windage, elevation and the Solunar Tables, the trigger on the 243 Win Howitzer was squeezed.    The unsuspecting Beast died in his tracks, which were somewhat obliterated by the driving snow.    Being a little impatient, and despite Charlie's explicit instructions, I went over and inspected the damage.    Yes, the Male Whitetail   had been "harvested" even tho no John Deere combine was involved.    But, suspiciously, 20 yards behind lay a patch of blood that could have had nothing to do with the Dearly Departed Buck.   

         Apparently, a Female Coitus Interruptus and been struck by the missile which had exited the buck.   I decided to follow her tracks.    (I could tell it was a female by virtue of her blood type and also her diamond necklace was dragging in the snow.    I am an Expert Tracker, as Charlie will attest or I will smite him).   Several days and several states later, nearing starvation and exhaustion from plodding ever onward in the driving wind and ever-deepening snow, I came to my present location.   The Donner Pass.    Fortune was with me, for Jake Donner and his family (they prefer to be called the "Donner Party") took me in nourished me back to health, for by this time my torso was toreso.  

         Now these folks are super.    What they lack in a well-rounded diet, they make up for in a High-Protein Regimen.     Lots of  soups.    Strangely, now and then a family member or neighbor will be missing, and then we have better eats for a while.    Mrs. Donner inquired this very day how I liked the fresh soup.     Said, "Oh, I'm having a ball."    She muttered, "We usually save them for dessert."    And these are godly people.    Strewn around the cabin for reading pleasure are fine publications, e.g. "How to Better Serve Your Fellow Man" and such like.

         Kinda bothers me about the missing family members.     Just this morning I inquired about Cousin Willie, who was absent for 2 days now.    Mr. Donner said that he had passed him in the woods ten minutes ago.   Said, "Gee, I was just out there and saw no sign of him."    I will say, the Donners are excited about the holidays.   They are anticipating having their neighbors, the Blitzens, over for dinner.   Along with a small party of Ogalala Sioux, and their offshoots, the Falala La La La Sioux who provide musical accompaniment while decking the halls with boughs of holly.  Another stranded hunter, who happens to be a newspaperman, was greeted by the Ogalala Chief the other day.    Chief said, "Today you are an Editor.    By Thanksgiving you will be Editor-In-Chief."  Nothing like a promotion, I say.

         They seemed concerned about my weight, Bless Their Hearts.    Always encouraging me to heavily salt foods and drink lotsa water.   

         Would be remiss if I were not to mention the Sunday Repast.     That was the morn that Niece Lilly went missing.    Rather than be upset about it, the family drowned their sorrows by having a delicious Liver Pudding.    A tribute to "Strength in Adversity".

         So, Tempus Fugit (be careful how u pronounce that!)    Eagerly awaiting Spring.    Gotta run.    Soup is on.     Uncle John starved to death last week, and Jake is right now saying, "Bless His Heart".