I tried not to lean against anything. Leaning, I Feared, would give the wrong impression. It could seem too casual. Sitting was also not an option. I also did my level best not to make eye contact. This was harder than it sounds. When you are surrounded by people with dentition that resembles broken picket fences and forearms adorned with jail house style tattoos (some apparently made by carving shapes into the skin then pouring India ink into the wound) it's very difficult to look anywhere other than their eyes. Fear causes this. He seemed to bring back his memories in full color HD detail in my mind. A lot of those stories are fleeting at best, I am sure he added in his own little exaggerated touches but back then it didn't matter. That is what Deer Camp stories did for me in D&DH magazine in the off season too. My Dad used to call my grandfather a bullshitter and never fully understood that till after growing up and experiencing life for myself. I think this life needs bullshitters to carry on that tradition of deer hunting we have all come to love.

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