TO HECK WITH ELK HUNTING

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Enjoy this brief look inside the book:

BERTHA IS RETIRED.  While hunting elk with General Chuck Yeager ( who was the first pilot to break the speed of sound) in British Columbia,  it had taken me three shots to hit a bull elk that was a very long way away. I was using my Winchester Model 70 in  30-06 caliber.  (My boss editor told me to use other guns because there were many firearms companies that advertised in the magazine and I hunted exclusively with that gun. ) My guide and I rode our horses back to camp to get pack animals. We met the General in camp  who was hunting nearby and heard me shoot. He asked me why it took three shots to down the bull. I had no good answer. After supper we sat around the campfire and Chuck walked over to me carrying a rifle. “You can have this gun if you’ll get rid of that pipsqueak Winchester,” he said. I was dumbfounded and accepted the  rifle, a Weatherby 300 Mark 5.  ( I  had previously decided to give my Winchester to my son for a Christmas gift.) The General and I became close friends and we made a dozen hunting and fishing trips together.

THE LAST HITCHHIKER.  The  Montana Interstate was deserted as I slowly drove through a furious blizzard with blinding whiteouts and gale winds. I was returning home from an unsuccessful elk hunt and I was shocked to see a hitchhiker with his thumb out . He was covered with snow and ice and no doubt a candidate for hypothermia. I usually don’t pick up hitchhikers but this guy needed to be rescued. I pulled over and asked where he was going. “To California,”  he said, “where there’s good dope and hot women.” I wasn’t happy with that remark, and would have left him and driven on, but the blizzard was life threatening. I told him I’d take him part way.  He tossed his brand-new backpack and sleeping bag in the back. I could see the store tags. Then he told me my vehicle looked like a piece of junk, and asked what was in the soft gun case in the back. When I told him it contained a gun he lit up and asked why I had a gun.  When I said him, I’d been elk hunting he asked what an elk was and then suggested I pull over so he could shoot some cows along the highway. He looked serious. I told him that wasn’t happening.  Then he said he was going to open up his backpack and crawl  into his  sleeping bag in the back of my SUV. Then he grinned and bragged that he and a trucker had stolen some credit cards and bought the gear. He fell asleep and I was doing a slow burn. This guy had to go. He was dangerous.  When I heard him snoring, I reached under my seat and placed my .41 Ruger on my lap and covered it with my jacket. I pulled off the highway and came to a stop. The guy woke up and asked where we were. “It’s your stop, pal,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere!” he growled. He glared at me and his teeth were clenched.  I grabbed my handgun, aimed it between his eyes and cocked the hammer……..