Not all elk hunts start out perfectly but this was one for the record.

I had talked to a friend whom I now know was only a casual aquaintance all these 30 some years and found out about a GMU in Colorado that I decided Joe should apply for after 23 years of building up preference points. This "friend" told us that he had bow hunted the area for 24 days, knew it very well and he would accompany us and "guide" us and wanted to trade with me to get in on one of my hunts. (BTW he had hit a "big bull" at 16 yards and unfortunately was unable to recover it.) Even though prior to the hunt I had told my "friend" about Joe's cervical fusions and handicaps, not to mention that he lives in Arizona and would need to acclimate a little bit to the 8500 feet elevation we would be hunting, (plus "John" knows me well enough that he is familiar with my leg surgery and knee replacements the past three years) on the very first morning he took us down a slope that was ensnarled in deep black spruce and ponderosa trees and blowdown that was so steep you had to grab onto branches and slide down on your butt in places and to where he even fell a couple times, not to mention my brave son Joe; (BTW what a trooper Joe is!) and where one tumble that I took left cuts and bruises. After several hours of this, when we miraculously got to the bottom without anybody getting seriously hurt, I sucked it up and as nicely as I could, I patiently took it up with John. He then told us to our faces that we were "too slow" and that he "couldn't go any slower," and that on the first day he "scares his clients to death," and that he hated people and that he hated dogs. I asked him what this hunt had to do with him hating dogs and he gave me his infamous "deer scared in the headlights" look. He responded by telling me five or six different times that I "had never hunted elk." And he insulted Joe's physical abilities and told him that Joe's father (me) had questionable hunting skills.

When we finally got back to camp and Joe and I basically told him that we wanted to hunt together without him to enjoy some father-son quality time, he told me how I should hunt the area for the next day, and gave me some advice on landmarks which proved to be so far off, it was ridiculous.

So the next day after being in this brand new area for only 36 hours, I came up with a plan and took Joe and did the exact opposite of what John had suggested.

Well in spite of our "guides" tactics and intentions, Joe and I had a great time and this hunt proved to be incredible in many ways; and what is proving out to be so very funny is that I am getting incredibly sarcastic feed back from this character; in short our so-called friendship is about over with.

Joe and I arrived back at my house barely a few hours ago and as I sit here and write this in the wee wee morning hours, it has started snowing for the first time this year. I know that it is The Good Lord's way of telling me that He is glad that we are home.

Please stay tuned as Joe will be posting his story soon.