The great bear killer and the groundhog battle royale

“THE GREAT BEAR KILLER”.–this piece of manly equipment will be referred to as such at all times.  I will also start with a side note and say that I have not grown anymore chest or facial hair than before but this article may define my manhood.

I bought a hatchet last week.  Here is the literal description on the box: ” this hatchet is awesome Tate, it’s sharp, has a wooden handle, and if you ever needed a phallic symbol and just get bored and want to measure up one day, it’ll be there.”  Not kidding.  It said that.  It also had a warning on it to not let it anywhere near your genitals, but I was never one for reading into things anyway.
Long story short, after buying said hatchet (and by hatchet I mean THE GREAT BEAR KILLER) I felt a bit “puffed up.”  hatchet

Allow me to tangent.  A lot of people think of Denver, Colorado as this great outdoorsy place with tons of wildlife.  As though I would go downtown to the 16th street pedestrian mall and see a heard of bison walking into a jamba juice for a shot of wheat grass.  It’s not.  At least within the city.  Although there is no doubt in my mind it is beautiful here, the ratio of beard to brewery, teeth to tattoo, rich to poor, young to old is unreasonably high.  The point is, the chances of me actually using “THE GREAT BEAR KILLER” was slim to none in the city.  None the less I didn’t really care.

Here is a list of things I have chopped down or killed with my hatchet that first week:
1. One small bush growing in my front yard.
2. A second small bush in my front yard.
Let me tell you though, if ever a greater bush felling tale was told that day, I do not know of one.

The next morning, as I put “THE GREAT BEAR KILLER” into my 2012 Ford Focus SEL, thinking that on my commute to work somehow, someway someone on the side of the road at a balmy 65 degree day in Denver, might have a sign that says: “Stranded need help, bring a hatchet”.
It didn’t happen.  Not once.  So I found while I was driving down I 25 listening to what can only be explained as an egregious amount of banjo music. Having delusions of grandeur, I noticed a small groundhog battle royale on the side of the road while pulling into work.  Now, I’m not one to brawl or deliberately start a fight with a ground hog but let me tell you that day,
I didn’t start a fight with any ground hogs.  I just didn’t think it couth, to be “wraslin” any critters in the Denver Tech Center.

So “THE GREAT BEAR KILLER” sits in my 2012 Ford Focus SEL, taunting me day after day.

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My second dream last week.  And we’re bringing it down a bit here folks.

Yet even in the loneliness of the canyon I knew there were others like me who had brothers they did not understand but wanted to help. We are probably those referred to as “our brother’s keepers,” possessed of one of the oldest and possible one of the most futile and certainly one of the most haunting instincts. It will not let us go.” – Norman Maclean from “A River Runs Through It”

About a week ago, I went to Cabela’s, and bought a fly fishing pole.  And while many people I’ve told are now more convinced that I’m a 27 year old, 6 ft tall blonde, devastatingly handsome, male quickly going on 95 years old, anigif_enhanced-buzz-25132-1389319523-12it was more for me a reason to just do something that resonated with who and what I am.  There was no other reason to buy the pole except for the small dream that possibly one day I’m going to go camping, and realize there is no reason for me to come back.  It isn’t a matter of being poetic or trying to find some sort of “Into the Wild” style audience; it’s just that more and more I’m seeing the things I enjoy (even this computer) are more suited to just be thrown away.

It’s unbelievably unsettling to want something more than your current life and realize that it’s not just your life anymore.  I suppose at that point it’s worth defining much more of what you want and where you need to be.  So here I am, looking forward to my new hobby.

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Lastly, and this has nothing to do with the above.  But I have  cousin named Preston who I found out over Christmas can write.  And seriously, he can write.  Now I get on this thing to have a little fun and do what I need to, and I think that’s just what writing this stuff is for.  But I’ll just leave by saying, if you have a gift, or you’re good at something, just do MORE.  People may look at the above and think it’s for attention, but at a certain point doing things for yourself is the only true reason to do something in the first place.  So I challenge you to start your own blog, write whatever you want, screw what everyone else thinks and if you need any help, lemme know.

 

-Riding the Fine Line

 

 

 

3 thoughts on “The great bear killer and the groundhog battle royale

  1. I really enjoyed this post! I do think I will make a blog and write whats on my mind occasionally. Thanks for thinking of me! I would love to come visit you in Colorado sometime in the future! 🙂

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