From Grangeville I dropped into the Clearwater drainage and enjoyed the ride up 14 to Elk City were I gassed and asked the way to Dixie.
From Grangville I dropped into the Clearwater drainage and enjoyed the ride to Elk City were I gassed and asked the way to Dixie.
I made it to to Dixie Town and beyond before dark. I camped among the trunks of tall timber reaching for light from a steep valley. Two cluttered hunter camps sided the dirt road. I pulled along a far table within a stone's throw of the privy making the third leg of a good defensive triangle. If a bear became covetous of my pork splattered galley a cross fire might aid my distress.
Camp fires and purposeful men loading four-wheelers wake me before light. I lay in my bunk watching. It is cold but wool and down blankets top me and an electric bunk pad held the cold from below at bay. The sky begins to wipe away the stars. My single shot rifle is on the pic-nick table under my leather jacket, in easy reach. This is about as far as my hunting skills go theses days. Should a deer pass as I: set cooking, wake from napping, fumble about looking for my cane or beer opener, or set strapping on my leg brace – it's back strap steaks are mine.
No pics. Moved down the road at light.