5/15/2019

Oh boy, where do I begin? 

I'm a legal adult now, though that doesn't mean I'm suddenly an actual adult now. I'll still live with my mom through college, and I do not mind that at all. Adulthood scares me, so as of now, my goals are go to work like I have been, finish my book, find a few hobbies, stay healthy, and most of all, get comfortable driving! I think I'll take the semester off to learn how to drive in Denver and practice a few trades, and start up college in the winter. Shouldn't be too hard, right? My parents both said community college was way easier than high school, and judging by how hard I worked, especially during the last two weeks of school, I believe them. I'm going into adulthood absolutely brain-fried, and I'm not sure when I'll recover from working on only physics and pre-calc since I turned in my research paper. While I'm proud of myself for going from Algebra 0.5 to pre-calc and modern physics in less than 365 days, I can't see myself ever becoming a physicist or mathematician. Ever. 

But, on a completely different note, I had a wonderful birthday! I headed up to Greeley to hang out with Uncle Courtney and Aunt Sharon for the day. The horses were turned out to the pasture for the summer a couple months ago, and are too feral for my liking. The last thing I wanted was to get bucked off in the middle of the neighbor's cornfield, which is right next to a busy middle school and main road. So instead, we headed off to the range to shoot a handful of firearms, from uncle Courtney's little .17 caliber rifle, to his big .45 caliber handgun. I haven't touched a handgun in years, so my aim was off by a lot until we got to the last 9 bullets of the day, when my handgun training from several years ago finally kicked in. 

Uncle Courtney hopes that I'll join his granddaughters at a concealed carry course in the fall. While I cannot legally own a handgun or get my concealed carry permit until I turn 21, I can attend a concealed carry course and get the proper certifications before then. So when I do turn 21, I can go to the sheriff's office with my certification card, sign a piece of paper, pay $200, and be able to legally carry for 10 years before having to renew my certifications. In this day and age, I want to be able to properly defend myself and others from a safer distance, which is what a carry will do. In Colorado, I can legally open carry a handgun. However, I know that often attracts a lot of unwanted attention, especially in very politically progressive places such as Boulder and Denver, so I'd rather conceal carry just in case the highly unlikely thing happens. If I lived in Texas, that'd be a completely different story. But because I live in a very blue state, and am surrounded by progressives, I need to conceal my 2nd amendment rights (no offense to progressives. I actually agree with them in a few ways, although my views on guns vastly differ from theirs). As some old saying goes, I'd rather be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war. 

However, I can (and probably will very soon) legally buy a rifle and/or a shotgun now that I'm 18. Unfortunately, I can't afford any brand new firearms right now, mostly because I've been shamelessly spending my money on dirtbike gear, art supplies, and sushi. But I can afford certain pre-owned firearms at Cabela's (assuming I don't make a bee-line first to the camo hoodies in the middle of the hunting section). The background check in most Colorado counties, besides Denver and Boulder, takes less than a half-hour. And since I've never had any run-ins with the law, or been admitted to a mental hospital, or been diagnosed with any violent or threatening mental illnesses (even if I ever did, my juvenile records are now sealed and cannot be used against me), it'll be very easy for me to pass the background check and purchase a firearm. The hard part will be finding what I can afford, and then having to choose what I want out of that. I can only afford one rifle, which is like telling a kid in a candy store he can only have one piece. 

Back at uncle Courtney's, after spending 5 hours at the shooting range, he had me shoot a bow for the first time in a decade. Once I got a hold of an air-rifle, I abandoned archery and strictly practiced with rifles. But uncle Courtney wanted me to try out archery again, to see if I still had it in me. Not only that, but he wanted to recreate a picture of 8-year-old me learning how to shoot a bow on my birthday. While my birthday party today was very small, and my cousin, Nathan (the kid in the red shirt looking more nervous than I was when I started my final math test), was stuck at work today, the result of our re-creation still turned out very cool.

Turns out, I'm a natural at archery. I just have to work a little harder on my arm pull strength, because I was struggling to pull back the recurve bow with a 50-pound pull weight. I still did it, but I want to get stronger so I don't feel it so much. Chances are, I'll buy my own recurve bow, a set of practice arrows, and a couple of heavy targets to set up in my own backyard before I get another firearm. That bow will give me the arm strength that I really want, so when I return to uncle Courtney's later this summer, he won't rip on me so much for having skinny twig arms, even though Courtney himself admitted that he struggled with any bow with a pull weight heavier than 60 pounds. 

Before the day ended, my great aunt Sharon and grandma Connie went to the store to get us some dinner and supplies for smores, while I stayed at the house with Courtney and my grandpa. I gave uncle Courtney my hunting information a few weeks ago, and to my surprise, there are a lot of leftover cow elk licenses in the region I wanted to hunt. Around 370 were already drawn, but there will be 130 leftover tags available for sale on the morning of August 6th. I was also rather surprised to find out that I'll be hunting on private land, which means that less people will be calling and emailing CPW at 9 AM for a tag in that specific region. I'll be in Minnesota on August 6th, but I'll still be picking up the phone at 10 AM Minnesota time to purchase my cow elk license.

While I missed the first elk tag draw, in order to keep things competitive and interesting, CPW will hold a certain number of tags per region for the leftover tag sale in the late summer. Sometimes, those tags are gone within the first minute after CPW finally puts them up for sale, while other times, those tags are never bought. Elk hunting is viciously competitive and popular in Colorado. While we've got a ton of elk, we also attract a ton of elk hunters from all over the world, so the elk tags are usually hard to get. In some regions in Colorado, it takes 30 years for someone to draw a bull elk tag. In other regions, bull elk tags are available over the counter for the whole year. The tags depend on the population of the elk and how old and impressive the elk typically turn out to be per region. 

Assuming all goes well, and I don't find a creative way to screw it up, I will be hunting elk this season, and I will end up with 300 pounds of wild game. My freezer can fit about 170 pounds of meat if I use my entire body weight to stuff it in, so I hope my close friends and family will have a decent amount of freezer space for the other 130 pounds of elk I'll end up with, and will be happy to take some of it off my hands. Also, the cow elk tags are valid from October 1st to January 31st. If I don't get anything with Outdoor Buddies during opening weekend, uncle Courtney offered to be my guide until I got something, come hell or high water.

Hunting with Courtney will be different than hunting with Outdoor buddies. Instead of having the luxury of staying in a 5-star hotel and being driven around in a warm truck with heated seats, Courtney will push me well beyond my limits, like he always does. We'll end up camping in the wilderness somewhere near Westcliffe, snow or shine, wind or calm, and my only means of getting around besides walking will either be on the 4-wheeler or horseback, depending on how snowy it ends up being. Basically, uncle Courtney will be dragging me through hell with him, along with his son, Sean, the horses, and my grandpa Lyle, while we hunt for a large cow elk to feed myself, my friends, and my family. 

Uncle Courtney strongly believes in an extreme form of exposure therapy. He believes, and rightly so, that exposing yourself to your greatest fears will inevitably make you realize that you're stronger than your fears, and will make you a better, stronger, more well-rounded, and intelligent person. He's forced me to do things that put me at great risk and scared me to death before, and he'd gladly do it again. I mean, the only reason why he didn't have me jump on the back of one of his feral horses today, and tame it in his favorite cornfield by a busy middle school and main road, was because it was my birthday. Otherwise those middle schoolers would've seen one hell of a show during their lunch break! 

Hunting with uncle Courtney means I better renew my membership to Vasa fitness and practice with a recurve bow nearly everyday, or else Courtney will leave me behind in the wilderness near Westcliffe with just my rifle and sense of direction. Well, not really. But I certainly won't be hunting any elk with him if I can't at least match him athletically. He may be much older than me, but he still hunts and works out harder than I ever have. 

After we spent a good ten minutes talking about elk hunting, wildlife, firearms, and eventually why pronghorn are so damn fast, uncle Courtney brought up my desire to become a taxidermist. Since he and his family have been hunting since they could hold a bow steady, and uncle Courtney was a game warden for over 25 years, he's got plenty of taxidermy laying around. In his barn, he has a growing collection of antlers that are only collecting spider nests and cat fur, so he offered me a couple. The only challenge was getting them down. 

Since I'm smaller than Courtney, I was expected to be the one who climbed up various objects in the barn to reach the antlers. Courtney hasn't cleaned his barn in 30 years, so God only knew what I'd find near the rafters. 

I first climbed onto the back ladder of Courtney's old camper, and carefully stepped one foot onto a window ledge, while keeping a firm grip on one of the 2x4's that made up the skeleton of the old barn. Courtney encouraged me to step onto a steel trash can lid, assuring me it was full to the brim of horse treats and could support my weight. It ended up being empty, and I clung to the skeleton of the barn as my boot effortlessly plunged through. Instead of that, I stretched my leg further to reach an old cat tree that I knew couldn't support my entire weight. I looked down and realized just how screwed I was. I was basically stuck on the wall doing the splits between the camper and a cat tree above a concrete floor covered in various dangerous objects, including rusty nails and a hacksaw. I could reach the antlers from there, but I wasn't about to let go of anything. To make matters worse, a Great Black Wasp took interest in me, and I looked back at uncle Courtney, pleading for help and paralyzed in fear. 

After a full minute of us bickering back and forth, Courtney gave up on encouraging me further, and clambered up on a freezer to reach the antlers for me. I was still stuck there on the wall while Courtney carefully took down an old elk rack. 30 years of spider webs and dust all fell on my head at once. 

"Dude, you should've told me that you could reach it that easily." I said as I started looking for a way down. 

"I just wanted to see if you could do it." Courtney replied laughing, "It looks like you got yourself in a tough situation. Here! I'll help you."

I sighed with relief while Courtney supported one of my boots with his hand so I could get back to the camper and jump down. Once I was on the ground, I shook off the dust and cobwebs, and took the antlers out of Courtney's hands. They were furry with spiderwebs, to the point I thought they still had velvet on them, but Courtney said it was a winter bull he took with his bow, and the "velvet" was actually 30 years worth of old spider webs. 

We brought it to his front lawn and set it down on the grass. At first, I figured a leaf blower would get rid of all of the dust and webs. Courtney got his strongest one and set it on high. While the spider webs and some dust was blown off, most of it was stuck to the antlers like clay. So I took an old wet rag, and rubbed the antlers down until they were completely clean. Under that thick layer of grey dust was a beautiful set of chocolate brown elk antlers. Courtney also gave me a pair of whitetail deer antlers he took off the skull of a deer that got hit by a car. Had that deer lived another year or two, he would've been a freaky trophy! While deer, elk, and moose shed their antlers every late winter, they grow them back bigger and stronger every summer, just in time for the rutting season every fall and early winter.

So, I have to say, my struggle in the barn was totally worth the antlers Courtney gave to me today, and they should keep me busy for awhile. I'll get rid of the dried hide on the elk antlers and clean the skull cap so it's a bright white. The deer antlers don't need much work, but I will drill both sets onto wooden plaques when they're all nice and clean. 

By the time I packed the antlers in the car, Sharon and my grandma returned with my birthday dinner. Courtney had a few jalapeno elk bratwursts, but they wouldn't be enough to feed us, so grandma and Sharon returned with a couple packs of hot dogs and a platter of sushi. 

As we cooked bratwursts and hot dogs over the fire, uncle Courtney and I started talking about wild game cooking techniques, which eventually led to us talking about the wildlife in my neighborhood. In the last month, I have not heard a coyote yip. Before, they would yip and howl at all hours of the night on our back deck, but they also posed a major threat to pets and children. Someone's dog got attacked nearly every week in the neighborhood, and I guess the city finally had enough of it. Whatever the city did, the coyotes seem to be completely gone.

But now that there are no coyotes, my neighborhood is starting to become overrun by cottontail rabbits. Just the other day, while I was doing dishes, I looked up and saw three rabbits viciously fighting over my lawn. Rabbits fight by jumping on each other while kicking their back legs, in hopes of injuring the others with their sizable claws. I've been attacked by domestic rabbits like that before, and it sucks. When I went outside to scare them off, they dove down under the deck. I quickly got a hose to spray them out through the cracks, but as soon as I dropped the hose and went back inside, the soaking wet rabbits went right back under the deck. 

Courtney perked up and informed me that cottontail rabbits are not a protected species in many parts of Colorado, meaning there is no limit as to how many a person can kill, just as long as the rabbits are on their property. While I couldn't use a firearm to take them out, and my pellet gun wouldn't be enough to do the job quickly and efficiently, a recurve bow would certainly do the trick. Uncle Courtney excitedly told me how much he loved rabbit stew, and pretty much asked me to go rabbit hunting literally in my own backyard for him. After all, the flight of an arrow is very quiet. While I'm on board, I still have to respect my mom, who would probably not like me hanging out on the porch roof until 3 am shooting cottontails with a bow. However, something must be done, because these rabbits are breeding like, well, rabbits, and my precious bluebells are at risk of being eaten.

But more seriously, if the rabbit population is allowed to get too big, they could cause serious damage to lawns and gardens. They will likely chew through open wires and become hazards on the roads. And finally, they will become diseased. Diseases found in dead cottontails can and do spread to other living things very quickly and easily. I forget what it's actually called, but there's a disease that starts in the rabbit's liver than can be contracted just by getting near a dead rabbit that's infected by it. This disease can hospitalize and even kill people! So, if the rabbit population isn't taken care of now while the rabbits are still healthy, things will likely go downhill faster than a jackrabbit on caffeine. 

With this in mind, I told uncle Courtney I'd think about hunting backyard rabbits, just as long as I can get past my mom. I've never eaten rabbit before, nor have I really had much of a desire to, but if uncle Courtney wants some suburban cottontail rabbit for his freezer, I'll get him some suburban cottontail rabbit. 

While we were talking, we almost forgot about the food. Uncle Courtney was especially excited to try the sushi. He never tried sushi before, and wanted to know what raw fish was like. I was the only one in the family who knew how to eat with chopsticks, so my grandparents and uncle Courtney ended up stabbing the sushi with forks, which didn't exactly work out too well. My grandma got a platter containing both raw and cooked sushi. My aunt wasn't so sure about the raw stuff, so she just ate the cooked stuff, while uncle Courtney and I devoured the raw stuff in just a couple minutes. Courtney loved it just as much as I did!

I never had jalapeno elk bratwursts before. Sure, I've eaten plenty of elk bratwursts in my life, but I never had it mixed with jalapenos. I'm very sensitive to spicy stuff, so I've honestly been too afraid to try it before. Courtney said the bratwursts weren't spicy at all, but he also said that about my aunt Donnell's late raw radishes back in North Dakota last year, and I ended up chugging almost a whole gallon of milk while he laughed at me. However, because the jalapenos were surrounded by delicious elk meat, I tried the bratwursts anyway, and loved them! Sure, they had a kick to them, but they weren't anywhere spicy enough to make me uncomfortable. 

To end the evening, we roasted marshmallows over the fire and told more stories about life. My great uncle told us stories about his years as a game warden. I've heard most of them before, but he also told us a few more I don't remember hearing about, such as the time he confiscated a black bear hide from a drug dealer and was allowed to keep it, so he wore it when my mom and aunt were little girls to scare them. I would do the same thing to my little brother if I had a black bear hide, and that's why my great uncle hasn't given the bear hide to me yet. He said he'd give it to me once my brother became a teenager, which is still a few years away. 

My grandpa shared stories about when he was my age. He wasn't the most rebellious teenager or young adult out there, although he did get himself in trouble a few times. He was present at a party in Zap, North Dakota, which very quickly turned into a riot that summoned the National Guard. I think he left once things really started going downhill, though he did say he watched as a group of kids built a bonfire in the middle of the street, before he finally got in his car and got out of there. Not long after, he witnessed another riot at a college in Texas, though instead of it being caused by a bunch of drunk college students, the riot in Texas was over the Vietnam war.

My grandpa had to sign up for the draft when he turned 18, but nerve damage in his foot saved him from going to Vietnam. He, and uncle Courtney, both had friends who did go to war, and those friends came back completely changed. A couple committed suicide shortly after returning home, and the rest isolated themselves from everyone else for the most part. 

My grandpa told me I should be glad that I don't have to sign up for the draft, and nothing too crazy is going on politically right now. But he did say I ought to exercise my right to vote now that I'm 18, regardless of what I think of the government. I hate every politician equally, so I'm not sure where I'll put my votes when the next elections roll around. I'm a libertarian with more conservative views than liberal views, but in the eyes of the average conservative, I'm basically a progressive, and in the the eyes of the average liberal, I'm basically a member of the alt-right. This is why I stay out of politics for the most part. 

My great uncle Courtney pushed me to purchase a rifle in my name. I'm pretty much broke, and on top of that, I don't know what I want as far as a rifle or a shotgun. I like my .243, and I'm too broke to afford a .308 for bigger game such as elk and moose. My .243 can easily take down bigger game if I make a perfect shot, but if I screw up the shot, things won't go so well for anyone. Maybe next year I'll have enough extra cash laying around to afford a .308 for bigger game. 

By the time we stopped telling stories and talking about life at 18 years old, it was dark outside, and our fire was almost completely out. Uncle Courtney put out the last of the fire and we followed him inside for one last thing. He stuffed a large box full of various cuts of wild game meat he found in his deep freezer, and gave it to me to take home. I didn't bother to look what was inside of it, and once I got home I just turned the box upside down and dumped the contents into my freezer. But since then, I've taken the time to dig through it. I don't know how to cook half of the stuff he gave me, such as deer liver and Canadian goose breasts, but I'll figure it out. Courtney just told me to look up some recipes online, and if I'm still lost, he wouldn't be offended if I gave that stuff to someone else who will eat it. But I've been eating very well since my birthday, and hopefully that box of game will last me until the fall when I can hunt that cow elk.