We was  gatherin meat fer the winter of 92-93 out in a place called “Rocky Pass”.  As its name implies, it are some bit rocky an at times we wondered if the horses was nuff to cross over the top.  Seems the wind howls thru the area right reglar.  The rocks seem hard nuff-but the wind has carved em up sorta skeery in some spots.  Other places they be rounded, like dumpling bread.

We done decided ta put some gunners on one side of a ridge, an the rest come pushin over the top toward em, skeerin the deer an bear (an such) ahead of us and into the gunners.

It were a mite snowy on the ground when Wapiti, Tracker, Softball, Haaagar and me started our push.  We was spred out movin thru the tall sage an cedar trees an as we got near the top, that ‘ol wind was whippin an a gittin.  Now I done heared ‘o them hurrycanes, but  ain’t never been in one till this one day.  Nows I knowed how they musta got the name fer such a puffy breeze.

My sperience crossin over the top of that hill was most easy, cuz I’m built low ta the ground, but still I had ta use my gun butt ta hold me till I could git my next step planted firm.  It took me nye on ta 15 minutes ta  git 15 yards, I’ll tell ya.

Haaagar had an even worser time.  Wearin a poncho like he do, as he got to the top the wind got under it, picked him up and throwed him back down the hill!  Haaagar fought back, an once agin approached the crest.  This time he was ready.  He had tyed his poncho down round his belly.  Well, some can see the danger in this, but as he bent hisself  inta the wind, down the opening in the neck went the full force, filled up his poncho like a mule fills his belly with air when he don’t want to carry a load, and back down the hill he goed.

Meantime we is all gathered round the horses waitin fer Haaagar  ta come  oer the top.  We figured he had some trouble crossin with that poncho on.  Tracker said Haaagar  probly  was hooked on a branch by some leg fringe  an  the wind  keepin  him  parerlel  ta the ground.  I figured he would be smart nuff ta grab his knife an cut a exit hole big nuff ta let the air out an let hisself down.

Purty soon we seed ‘Ol  Haaagar  trekin round the lee side ‘o that hill.  He had quite a tale ta tell, but he sure was missin a chunk of leg fringe.

Does ya rekon Tracker was closer ta the truth than we knowed?

Bears Butt

Sept.-Dec 1992