Before Bow Season

Before Bow Season

Finally beginning to understand 36 pack weekends On my 3rd trip to the backwoods of Appalachia, My wife always wanted to move to California, Now we visit her family once a year. Holidays Are a feast of game killed on mountains where coal mines ran out leaving remnants forgotten rail beds, half mile high mountains of slag, empty shells of steel mills long idle

We drove into the main street town where no flight can go since 9-11 driving was treacherous in the dark through 2 lane highways with no center divider live woods lining the road stretching to touch, threatening to jump in the path of cars, running road

Up and down mountains on the most dangerous highway of them all.

We got lost in Hagerstown where four highways combine. We called Doreen's brothers Leroy and Darren; they were partying to forget the week of work at Darren's upholstery shop and Leroy Jr’s work in maintenance Bayliner boats. They were too hope you crash into a tree. The mean cold fact is 36 packs of beer are downed per man, but this was the drinking Super Bowl - Labor Day. My wife later told me to remember the good times on the trip. My ride in Doreen’s Dad’s truck up train trestles to a secret hunting spot where 2 Tom turkeys lead 20 hens before hunting season before bow season before muzzle loader season before rifle season. Darren’s Brother showed his bow skills he got a new level to attach to his bow. A new laser sight to pinpoint targets 200 yards distant, a firing wrench to add a trigger to the bow. Perfectly on target every time to relay directions, telling me I