harder than a woodpecker’s lips

Tylenol bird

I thought we were going to get a little “us” time on this camping trip, but that wasn’t to be the case. We had just backed the Zinger into the campsite when Walter (not his real name) stepped out of the woods.

“I saw you guys drive past HQ and thought we’d see where you were going. Good thing I had a full tank of gas or I’d have never found you guys.”

I thought to myself, “Looks like high gas prices don’t stand in his way.”

Walter did what he is best at and watched me set up camp. He actually tossed me a couple of Lynx blocks to go under the jack stands. Man, what would I do without him?

Long story short, we got our campsite squared away and I fired up the Dutch ovens. Ain’t Leo chopped some veggies and I seared the pot roast and got it simmering. Life was good. I asked Walter where he was camped (praying that it was on the other side of the campground) and he said he didn’t know we were going camping, so he hadn’t brought his gear. I couldn’t help but wonder if he thought we pulled that trailer through 45 mph cross winds just for grins and giggles. But you know Walter. He’s never been strong on analytical thinking.

“If you’ve got your tarp with you I can sling it from one of these trees. It’ll be just fine for me and Hoover.”

Hoover is his new Catahoula cur and second best buddy. And this was my first time to meet Hoover.

I’ve got to say that Fate did a good thing when she sent Hoover his way. These dogs are loyal and they think they own whatever is around them. Hoover’s natural care-giving instincts should keep Walter out some trouble when I’m not around.

Anyway, we passed a nice evening and had a great meal together. The only downside was that the burn ban put the kabosh on our traditional campfire. Oh, yeah — and the invasion of the Giant Flesh Eating June Bugs. Ain’t Leo spent the night cussin’ a blue streak under her breath while trying to keep them out of her hair and food. There was no keeping them out of the trailer.

The next morning Walter and Hoover wandered into the campsite just in time for breakfast. Go figure.

“Where you guys been,” I asked.

“Aw, we went for a walk on that trail up by the park road. It’s a long ‘un. Wish we’d known that when we left.”

I asked him, “See any thing good?”

“Hoover found some hog sign, but we didn’t see one. We sat on a log and watched one of them Tylenol birds beat her lips against an oak for about thirty minutes. Damn, that’s gotta hurt. Seems like an awful lot of pain for just a few grubs.”

I raised an eyebrow in my typical WTF manner when listening to Walter. “Tylenol bird?”

“Yeah. You know that one that’s usually got a real red head? This ‘un was kinda like that only it was a dull reddish brown instead of bright red.”

OK. One more for the Walter Column.

Hope everyone has a great day. I’ll post again shortly after I sort out the pictures and gather my notes from the trip.

###

My greatest life lesson was learned from my dog: Just kick a little grass over it and move on.

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