By: Bears Butt

If you wanted or planned on doing something special this year and have not done it yet, you only have 18 more days to do it in!  Just a reminder, and that is counting today.

I got to thinking today as I was stripping good old sweet breads away from the membrane that holds it all together, “Is Bears Butt a writer”?  That was a tough question for me to answer.

I deduced that I am NOT a writer.  Writers sit down with pen in hand or typewriter or keyboard under their fingers (whatever) and write stories that go from one scene to another and eventually the story comes together like a Hallmark movie.  I ramble.  And as I think about telling a story or whatever around the camp fire I lose a lot of people who think to themselves (they are very polite) what is the point of what he is getting at?  Would he hurry!

I feel that most of my stories have to begin with a background of what the actual point is before I can finish it, or else the recipient (you) won’t know why I am even bringing up the point in the first place.

So, I’m not a writer…I’m a story teller…there is a BIG difference.

The best stories I can tell are stories where someone asks me to tell them a story about….whatever.

It takes me about a thousandth of a second and then the story begins.  The hardest stories are the ones I have to think up myself.  Like this one.

Today Dry Dog stopped by with a piece of metal I so dearly need…thanks Dry Dog…..and in our casual conversation he mentioned the rendezvous at which I won (and win I did) a very nice Sword.  Boy did that bring up some memories.  Some of you will recall that rendezvous.

When I received that sword my first thought was “what in the He?? am I going to do with this piece of cr.p”?  And then my thought went to the folks who were in charge of awarding the prizes for these very hard shoots they were pulling off…Please..No offense if you were the one in charge of the rifle range that day.  I know it was not your fault.  And so I am winner of this fine sword.  One that is very sharp, well adorned with gold and silver inlay and coveted by everyone who likes this sort of thing.

That sword has transpired into one of the most beautiful things in my collection of beautiful things and stands (or rather lays) right next to “Something” (my wonderful  horse….opps….Sir Butts wonderful steed).  The story started with that sword, how could I NOT like it?

From the moment I acquired such a wonderful piece of workmanship, I questioned why it was at a mountain man rendezvous in the first place.  I pondered hard why it was there.  But just like miracles everywhere it just was… and so be it…it was divine that I should receive it and be blessed by its very nature.  It caused quite a stir in my being.

After all day long thinking about how I had received such a fine gift…I trotted (literally) from my camp down the road to the council fire and made myself at home rounding that fire over and over again telling the fine folks sitting there just how fine a gift it was.  At this time I can not remember what exactly I said, but I am sure it was in fine taste and I hope the gifter has been back and will continue to come back to that rendezvous in the future.

I recall running like a deer, loping merrily as I went from my camp to the council fire and back without missing a beat and of course avoiding the “big boys” that wanted so much to make me “NOT A PART” of the council fire agenda.

My mind flashes to the sight of them standing up, first on my left and then suddenly on my right as I traipsed around the fire ex-pulsing my good wishes upon the club for such a fine gift.   And then my feet decided the thugs were close enough that I should depart hastily toward the safety of my own camp.  Without missing a beat, I remember traversing the distance in a matter of less than two minutes (1/4 of a mile I might add).

That my friends is my story about the sword and how I came to adore it so much.  I would not part with that sword for any amount of cash or trade items….it’s mine forever!

As some of you know Sir Butt likes that sword and yields it to the camp yearly.  Protecting good from evil in the camp and always welcoming friends.

Someday, I would like to be able to tell a story that didn’t have at least “some bit” of it not a real part of my life.  Do I live a life of weirdness that lends itself to making up stories of half truths?  HALF TRUTHS?  Who thought up that?  It is ALL TRUE!  Check out Trackers video of the council fire that night…decide for yourself if Bears Butt was a happy guy or not….I say he was!


I’ll drink to that!

Bears Butt

Dec. 13, 2012


Written on December 12th, 2012 , Just more stories

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Just some of my old stories, new stories, and in general what is going on in my life.