In the Shadow of the Long Range Mountains by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0000000000000
Published: 2021-10-06T03:33:22+00:00

His first year with us, I believe, was 1995. When he arrived at camp, he walked into the cookhouse and said, “Anyone here know any Polish jokes?” Mick Hynes, who was the cook at the time, replied, “I do,” and they hit it off right away. Steve always went to see Mick’s mom when he came to hunt. Steve and I became good friends, and we went on several hunts together in the US. In particular, we hunted elk and mule deer in South Dakota. Steve always made friends easily and was just a great person. Whenever I did a trade show in Michigan, Steve would come and sit with me for a day.

I looked forward to Steve’s return each fall. Many times he brought return hunters, guys like Glenn Peterson, Doug Tompkins, Don Gus, and lots of others—people who had hunted with us several times. Who could forget Doug? He was a barrel of fun, and there was never a serious moment with him. He was always making us laugh, and I just loved being in his company. Several times I was his guide. I remember one day we were out hunting and we picked up a caribou antler that had just been dropped—it still had blood on it where it had come out of the animal’s head. When we got back to camp that evening, he said to everyone, “What a guide Adrian is! We were hiding, and as this caribou passed by, Adrian grabbed it by the horn and pulled it right off its head!” There was never a dull moment with Doug around, and he’s one of the ones I really miss.

Steve always brought good Polish sausage with him, some for me and some to take to camp for the guides. We would talk many times throughout the year, and before he came on his hunts, he always put in an order for all the crew that came with him—beer, Coke, and whatever else they wanted at camp. We would pack it all up, write his name on it, and send it in on a meat check the week before he arrived. This was also good for us because it made room for the luggage when the hunters went to camp.

The first year Steve was with us, he hunted all week, and on the last day he took a cow. Malcolm was Steve’s guide, and it was also his first year with us as a guide. Malcolm told Steve that he had had a monkey on his back all week. On Friday, when Steve took a moose, Malcolm said, “Now I have moose on my back.” Steve came with us for the next nine years, and he took nine bull moose and some very nice trophies. When he killed a moose, he had a tradition before he left camp—he’d go down to the dock and toss a loonie into the lake to the “Moose Gods.” It sure worked for him. After a couple of years, he brought his wife, Barb, up to visit with us one summer.

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