It's that time of year again. The leaves are starting to turn in the mountains, the geese are starting to flock, and my wife is covering her tomato plants at night. These are three sure signs that hunting season is upon us.

    With each new hunt, I wonder, "What toll will this hunt have on my aging body"? Many, like myself, have enjoyed a long lazy summer of picnics, hammocks and too much ice cream. The middle gets a little thicker. The extremities whither just a bit. I suppose that exercise might be in order.

    I am reminded of a hunt not so many years ago. My family was headed to the high country for the annual elk hunt. That year, like all others, I was soft and unprepared for the workout. On a beautiful fall day, I was leading an equally soft horse up the mountain. We made a pathetic pair. There was no water at our remote camp, so the horse was tasked with carrying two five gallon jugs.

    Half way to the camp, the horse groaned and laid down. Angry and aggressive pulling, pushing, kicking and yelling got him back to his feet. This cycle repeated itself several times. Finally, I was the one carrying the water while leading the worthless animal. If you don't think this is hard, grab ten gallons of water and go for a little hike. You will be convinced.

    Huffing, puffing and drenched in sweat, I was the last one to drag into camp. A fire was already burning. Some had already eaten. Everyone was relaxing and enjoying a cool mountain evening. I, on the other hand, was exhausted. The weight had compressed every joint in my legs and back, causing me to be much shorter than normal. My arms, on the other hand, were stretched to an unbelievable length. So, with five gallons of water in each hand, knuckles dragging, knees trembling, back aching and an extreme desire to shoot one worthless horse, I stumbled into camp.

    My wife approached me and in a voice dripping with concern, asked, “Honey, what happened?” I responded, "This worthless piece of crap horse gave out an hour ago. I had to carry the water all the way up this stupid mountain myself!" "Oh, you poor thing!", she said as she approached me with outstretched arms. No one was more surprised than I when, at the last second, she stepped past me and hugged the horse.