By Craig Dumas
Continuing with my truck discussion…
Dennis and David, my two oft-mentioned uncles, also own trucks. Because of the diminutive size of their vehicles, I tend to say they’re either not done cooking or call them “baby trucksâ€. Dennis drives the Chevy 2500 extended cab 4×4 with the full bed. He hasn’t changed much other than a new one every three years and constantly turning in a spotless truck without a scratch for a brand new one. It’s as if Denny is picking up a new lease just so he can enjoy the new car smell. He doesn’t have family; just a wife and the dog, so it’s quite adequate for his needs and hauling his trailer.
David, on the other hand, has only recently delved into the world of trucks, mostly because of necessity and the fact he can no longer depend on Dennis to cart him around. You see, as brothers, they shared a trailer up until a few years ago. Since they have completely opposing living styles – Dave’s a slob, and Denny’s anal retentive with a borderline case of OCD – Dennis kicked David out, forcing David to buy a trailer and truck to continue his deer camp participation. Denny always had the truck so Denny always did the towing. David now drives a Chevy half-ton with the extended cab, 4×4 and a short bed. A cute little baby truck. It’s not done growing I say, but somewhat satisfying to him nonetheless. He’s grown to appreciate the dependability of a truck considering David has been driving cars up to camp all his life. There have been many stories that include him walking back to camp after having stuck the car on a hill, literallyl teetering back and forth on the precipice of a hill. Better yet, hot-dogging down a trail in a late model Camaro and losing his oil pan on a stump! The ridiculousness of seeing his poor car with the hood pointing a few degrees toward the sky because the trailer (and completely overburdened trunk!!!) weighed the rear bumper to mere inches above the ground. And Dave ventured on I-75 with this debacle in motion.
I guess he’s just tiring in his old age but still needs space to pack and bring along all of his stuff. And on the topic of packing stuff… David is notorious for loading his entire house into the trunk of his car for his two weeks in deer camp. “You never know what may be needed.†Boy scouts aren’t as prepared as my uncle. So as a result of his tendency to pack his vehicle to the gills, we try to limit him on the size of it because a larger one would just dictate more provisions. The lesser of two evils I suppose.
The man’s campsite – when fully unpacked – looks fresh off the set of Sanford and Son. (I’m still trying to get a copy of the theme song to play when he arrives.)
[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1WqazleR3FE[/youtube]
Then there’s Jeffrey, our loveable newbie that comes up in his haggard gas-guzzler of a Chevy Astrovan that actually grinds when driven (I think it time to put the poor girl down), or the smooth-riding pimpmobile, the LeSabre (or as he lovingly calls it, “the Buickâ€). We continuously reminding him that it could snow anytime, day or night, and needs to have something dependable. I think in his tenure has not seen a lick of snow in deer camp. (I’m still working diligently on him to make the purchase of a truck in any size, shape, or form.) “Why believe in something you haven’t seen†he says.
Editor’s note: I haven’t seen a single deer while armed and in my blind. With the exception of the occasional one felled by a camp mate or when we’re driving down the road, I’m not sure deer actually exist north of Saginaw. This is the key reason I don’t even bother to bring my rifle with me to camp anymore.
I, myself, have only witnessed one major snowfall (we awoke to an impressive two feet of accumulation) in my 14-year term. The elders have told stories of infamous snowfalls up north that come on with little or no warning and that “We are in a special area†that could see something you wouldn’t otherwise as close as seven miles south of us. It’s always the “Seven Miles South of Us†story. There seems to be a proverbial weather curtain at the county line that separates us from them. (Do you think the years of alcohol in deer camp might have something to do with this?)
Regardless of the weather, we have vehicles that can be depended on for almost any scenario, good and bad. We have something to carry our equipment, pull our behemoth trailers and, most importantly of all, our (too few and far between) trophies. This is all part of deer camp and how we get there.
Be sure to check back in for the next installment when I touch on our trailers and some of the stories associated with them.
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