KMack's Camp Stories & Misc. Ramblings

[kmack]

Things to do in Leakey





Life while in the Work Program at the Cooper-Maxwell Ranch was always interesting. It usually involved some sort of weird request, but always ended in lots of fun. The Work Program started in my driveway in San Antonio...

Dan and James were neighbors I had not met yet when they wandered up my driveway one Saturday afternoon in 2000. James lived 3 houses down from me and Dan was 2 houses down but across the street. Dan's family had just bought a used Club Car for use on the ranch in Leakey. They had been outside at Dan's house and heard me grinding away on my Datsun (then project car) in the garage. We got to talking about possibly welding on a rack to the front and rear of the golf cart. That's where it all started.

Over the years I built fences, feeders, installed rebar for a garage floor, welded up all kinds of contraptions onto multiple vehicles, chopped the top off a flipped truck (I wasn't involved, so don't ask!), etc...

But I think the most fun and possibly the most dangerous work we did was running chainsaws! Of course, we were always drinking...




Making Firewood

So, the original homestead house on the ranch had a trash tree grow up a little too close to the side of the house over the course of many years. The branches eventually covered a large portion of the roof, and the 30" diameter trunk was about 12" from the siding of the house. Buz (Dan's dad) asked one evening, around the camp fire, if we thought we could cut that tree down. We all raised a bottle and said "SURE!"

(I'd never cut a tree down before... )

The only problem in getting that tree down was another same sized tree that was no more than 20 feet away, and in the way of the fall direction needed to steer clear of the house. I think it was sometime in February (don't remember the year) that we cut the first tree down. It landed in the driveway like we wanted and took about 3 weekends to finally cut it up enough to clear a path.



(That's the original project Club Car, with racks, there left of the tree!)

So what are you supposed to do with a tree trunk that's a little too big for the chainsaw you're using? Make a bar table out of it, of course!



Later that Spring we made plans to get the target tree out of the way.

After felling the first tree, we got real optimistic about our abilities to cut large trees down. But there was still this nagging feeling about the trunk punching a hole thru the side of the house. It can't be that hard...

We gathered a handful of guys to help (beer and food for payment, of course). I "borrowed" a cherry-picker to help get some of the branches over the roof down in order to help swing the weight of the tree top away from the house. Some chains, ropes, come-alongs, chainsaws, we had a fool-proof plan! And we had cameras to document the whole fiasco!

With the trunk tied-off to a nearby Live Oak and the middle of the tree rope-tied to a nearby F350, James started cutting...



Here's two links to the bad quality video of the tree coming down. Same video, just not sure which will show up better in this post.

The biggest concern was trunk kick-back into the house. And it didn't fall where we planned. It went further left that what we figured, but we were able keep it off the house. Win!!!



Fun after the work - usually hunting

In general, the fun at the ranch in Leakey was usually getting to hunt. We hunted either whitetail or axis. Running around the ranch in the golf carts in (somewhat) silence was pretty cool and we got to sneak up on all kinds of animals. And usually not really dressed for the occasion!

James was really bad about this. He'd wake up at 9:30 in the morning, have a white t-shirt and shorts on, driving the golf cart in flip-flops, and run out to go pop an axis doe for the freezer! He'd even take the shot from the cart!

There were also many late nights driving thru the old-growth pecan grove looking for raccoons. That was always a favorite time of mine. Spotlighting trees, take aim on a set of eyes, pull the trigger on the 22-250, and then watch them reverse-swan-dive out of the tree with a big hole in their head. Great fun!

High-fives and cheers all around!



There was the hunt in January of 2006 that I remember pretty well (surprisingly). 2005 had been a rough year for me, especially work-wise. I had 5 W2's that year and not by choice! (Construction industry is not always your friend) So, to say I needed some quality time with friends hunting at the ranch was an understatement.

I had the Club Car and went out hunting in the "back 40" for an evening hunt. By 4:30, I had the first doe down and back sitting in the blind. By 5 pm, I had the 2nd doe! Dan said I could fill tags that weekend...

With the sun starting to set, I took the golf cart and headed back towards the main house, loaded down with deer on the front and rear racks. The blind I was at was way in the back of the property about 1/2 mile from the house. I didn't make it halfway before the batteries started to give out. Stranded at the back of the hay pasture, sun down, no cell phone (couldn't afford it), and, with still a long walk ahead me, I set out on foot with my 22-250 slung over my shoulder.

A little bit down the fence line of the pasture, I noticed some deer out in the middle. I had one more tag to fill...

We had a couple laughs about the events of that evening after getting everyone and everything back to the house. It ended up being a very long night cleaning the deer, but we had lots of Scotch on tap to help keep us warm. Thanks for the help James!




Family time

There's been lots of fun with all three families out there, too! Dan & Michelle and their kids; James & Julie and their kids; and Kerri, Lynden and me. We've shot tons of fireworks. We've fooled the kids into thinking the New Year had just rung in (it hadn't we just set the clock on the microwave two hours fast so they would go to bed early). Some daytime and late night swimming in the Frio River. And hundreds of camp fire conversations amongst us.

Time spent with all our friends, be it at the ranch or on our street (when we all lived there together) are some of those special moments you never forget. We may not all live within ear-shot of each other like back in the day, but we're all still close.

Also, if you ever get the chance to be in Leakey while they're having their rodeo (usually around 4th of July), go check it out! The parade is cool and the small-town rodeo is amazing! Take your kids and have a great time!

[Pstraw]

Thoroughly enjoyed reading about your google trip to Lake of the Pines. I've been up FM 450 and know those curves/turns well. When our kids were little, 5-15 yrs., we had a trailer to do vacations as that was the only way we could carry ALL the stuff the wife thought they needed to be happy. It was all fun though. Made one trip up through Ark. and Missouri to St. Louis. Along the way I was advised to take a certain road because it would be a shorter distance between two towns we were going through. Like you it didn't take too long for me to recognize that I had made a terrible mistake. Shorter on the map (pre-google) doesn't actually translate to quicker. One place I was catching up with another travel trailer. After looking at the license plate, I discovered that it was MINE. Those were the days, but I don't miss them.
Kids have in-laws and grand kids for us now and there is always a 'funny time' that gets brought up to much laughter.


Keep on telling your tales. I'm really enjoying them.

[kmack]

We love our trucks!

Back in 2003, I bought my first pickup that was mine. Well, Kerri and I both bought it, but it was big and it was mine!

It was a 2001 Chevy 2500 Ext.cab with a long bed, but it was only 2wd. (Yeah....I know....)
But it did have the 8.1L Vortec engine and that thing rocked!!!!

I was working for a local General Contractor then and the parts-runner guy, Bobby, and I had hit it off pretty quickly. We're still extremely great friends to this day, even though we haven't seen each other face-to-face in over 12 years. We talk regularly.



In 2005, Bobby went thru a tough time with his then wife and had asked me for some help moving some of his stuff as they were splitting up. So we were running around the NW side of San Antonio getting his stuff from the house and moving it all into a storage unit. Back and forth with my truck and his 2002 Z71. He loved his truck, and always had some comment to make about how it was better than mine.

So, we're sitting on Wurzbach Ave at the light for Vance Jackson about 9:45 at night. In the left-hand turn lane and Bobby is in front of me, we're the only two vehicles at the intersection. While waiting for the green light, he thought it'd be funny and backed his truck up against my Ranch Hand bumper. Ha, ha, ha....very funny!

He kept his truck there for a bit, but then I noticed he was pushing against my truck. Ok...let's see where this goes.

Now, the 8.1L engine is basically a big-block 496 cu inch motor. Lots of low-end torque and a lot of grunt where it counts. Like a diesel, but not like a diesel.

Bobby kept pushing, the light was still red, and I just waited...and waited...and then I heard his tires chirp and break traction...

I immediately put the transmission down into low gear and hammered the throttle!

With his tires spinning, I pushed him out into the intersection. His brake lights came on quickly, but it was too late. I'd already built up just enough momentum and there was no stopping his progress out into the open intersection!

The light turned green shortly thereafter and he took off in a hurry, as if trying to prove a point. But he knew who won that game!

For months afterward, there were constant talks about how I just got the better of him and it didn't have anything to do with my truck. His was better in everyway. Uh, huh....

"Hey Bobby, so I got this tug-o-war bar that we can use to hook our trucks up bumper to bumper. I'm only 2wd so you can't use 4-Lo, but I'll give you 4-Hi. What do ya say?"

The challenge was never accepted.

[kmack]

Quick & Easy Deer Camp chili

Since I'm sitting here at the deer lease thinking of some of these stories to write down, I figured I'd make some quick & dirty venison chili. Then I thought, I should write this down, too!

Here is my easy venison chili recipe...

- 1 lb of ground venison meat (hamburger grind, not the thicker chili grind)
- 1 can of Ro-tel dice tomatoes (spice level is up to you, but I prefer the "original")
- 1 can of tomato paste (not the sauce, use the paste as it makes a slightly thicker chili)
- 1 can of pinto beans (yes, I like beans in my chili! I'm South Texas born & raised and there have always been beans in our chili! Chili without beans, is just ground meat in a sauce.)
- 1/2 to 1 full onion chopped (depends on how much you like onions. I like onions!)
- Taco meat seasoning (I use McCormick Original Taco Seasoning as my secret, although it's not a secret anymore... )

Brown the meat, then mix everything together in a crock pot. Add about a can or two of water then let it sit and simmer for a couple hours.

That's it!

[kmack]

The Grey Ghost - an adventure into RVing!

Back in the 90's, my parents were on their 3rd motorhome which was eventually sold to my In-laws, as they too wanted to try RVing. Joe and Lois made a couple big trips with it, but then it sat in their driveway for about 7 years. I would get it up and running enough to use it once in a while when Joe and I were racing with the Porche club, but it was only used for shade with the awning. Eventually, it just sat too long and started sprouting mold and spider webs.

Somewhere about late 2003, Kerri and I decided we wanted to try our hands at RVing. We rented a travel trailer with some friends and headed out to Guadalupe State Park for a weekend. I forgot about how small grey tanks can be, so after all the kids had been washed, Kerri had to cut her shower short. Fun times!

During the Spring of 2004, Kerri talked her Mom into "getting the RV out of her driveway." Even though that travel trailer experience wasn't top-notch, we did enjoy it enough to persue the lifestyle a bit. We made weekend plans to head down to Edinburg and try to get the motorhome back up to San Antonio.

It was a 1985 London Aire Class C motorhome that was 27' long. It had a Ford 460 under the hood and was setup to run on either gasoline or propane. All the interior cabinets were solid wood construction, rumored to be built by the Ammish. It had it's own ice maker and a blender built into the counter top! Back in its day, the London Aire class of motorhomes were pretty much top of the line.

This is a picture of it after we got it.



For the weekend we headed down to Edinburg, I had figured it would take a front brake job and a carb rebuild to get her going enough to make the 250 mile trip home. Seemed simple enough. Brakes were done Saturday morning and the carb was rebuilt Saturday afternoon. A quick bath with a pressure washer and short trip around town and she seemed willing and able to drive!

We headed out from the Valley late Sunday morning with Kerri and Lynden riding behind me in my Chevy p/u. When we got into Falfurrias, I stopped at a parts store to pick up a fan clutch and radiator hoses. The fan had been running constantly and sounded like an airplane trying to take off at highway speeds. The hoses were for "just in case." Fuel mileage didn't seem quite as good as when my parents had the RV, but maybe it was the fan clutch dragging it all down.

We got back on the road again and pressed on.

By the time we reach Alice, I wanted to stop and fuel up and Kerri wanted lunch. I pulled into the first gas station on the South side of Alice and topped-off both tanks. My dad had made some "mods" to the RV over the years and had eventually up'd the fuel capacity to 100 gals between both tanks. I pulled the motorhome over to the side of the gas station and parked so we could go in and have lunch.

Tummies refueled, it was time to hit the road again. I turned the key and hit the starter and.............nothing!

"This isn't good..."

Kerri drove back up beside the RV and asked, "Aren't you coming?"

She would crank, but not fire. I tried the propane system, but I hadn't really focused on that because we could run on the gasoline. Turned out the solenoid for the propane fuel line wasn't working. I could get the motor to run on propane, but only using the Prime button, which wasn't much beyond a slow idle.

Kerri and I both had work the next day (Monday) and Lynden had school. This wasn't going well at all! The Chevy p/u (w/ the 8.1L beast motor) was enough to tow motorhome (at least I thought it was), but Kerri wasn't enthusiastic about having to either tow or be towed for the 150 miles that remained. So that option went out the window. After a couple hours of trouble-shooting, we called Joe. He made the drive up and tried to help. Eventually, I told Kerri to just head home with Lynden, and Joe and I would try to get her running again. About 9 pm, Joe and I gave up and went to sleep. It was a very restless night.



Early the next morning, we were back at it and I guess my little bit of down time was enough to get the fresh thinking going. I rechecked everything again with the fuel system. I eventually isolated the fuel pump as the culprit. No power to the electric fuel pump! I was getting "some" fuel the night before, but it just wasn't enough. I ran into the gas station and bought two rolls of electrical wire and some zipties.

30 minutes later, I had jumped the fuel pump off the fuse box and the motor was humming along like she was supposed to! "Time to hit the road...FAST!"

I pulled out of the gas station and hammered down headed North. A couple miles outside of Alice, I notice the temp gauge is sitting at about the "A" of "NORMAL" (typical old Ford temp gauge). It should have been right about "R". I pull into the big parking area on the side of Hwy 281 about 10 miles North of Alice. (Yeah, we didn't make it far)



Knowing I had the new fan clutch and radiator hoses, along with a new thermostat, I figured might as well see what the issue is. I was thinking the thermostat was probably stuck. I grabbed some wrenches and out came the two bolts on the thermostat cover. Pulling the cover took a bit more effort as there was some corrosion on the outside of the aluminum.

I grabbed the hose neck on the cover and pulled.......it crumbled in my hand!

"Well, #%@$#&#**$&%%@*&$^%@!!!!!!"

By the time Joe got back with more coolant, I was sitting on the ground in front of the motorhome almost in tears. This experience was absolutely horrible! I wanted to light a match right then and there.

But Joe had an idea... He disappeared headed back into town without saying much. He called shortly thereafter and said, "Drop the driveshaft."



Two hours later, he had a 5 foot long piece of 2"x2" thick wall tubing with a trailer hitch bolted/welded onto each end. The motorhome had a plate mounted on the front bumper with a tow ball hitch on it. He figured we could use that to tow the RV.

I figured "What more could wrong?"

At the time, Joe was driving a 2001 Dodge with the 24V Cummins and a 6-speed. He loved that truck and was always looking for an excuse to see how much it could pull/tow. Example: We have a big hill in our neighborhood coming in to our house and he would regularly see how high of a gear he use at idle to make it up that hill. Best he could do was 4th gear from a dead stop at the bottom: slip the clutch and then let it chug up the hill on its own!

This was just the excuse he needed to put his truck to the test!



We hit the road again, headed North up HWY 281 and onto I-37. In the left lane. Passing other cars/trucks.

The look on people's faces was priceless as they watched Joe drive by, then realized there was this big, huge RV five feet off his tailgate, passing them like they were standing still! I began to worry myself as I had no speedometer to read.

Braking was a predetermined exercise. Joe would raise his right hand to signal he was braking. I would then stomp on the brakes as hard as I could (no power boost with no engine running) and try not to push the backend of the truck around! It worked, mostly. Once we got into San Antonio traffic, it got a little hairy a few times as he started braking before he could raise his hand up!

We had a few "pucker moments" and she was pretty hard to steer and brake, but otherwise the tow bar worked! That tow bar later would become the tug-o-war bar. (To this day, it sits patiently on the side of my house...waiting for another round of fun.)

From dead in my in-law's driveway, to dead on the side of the road, to dead in front of my house, Kerri and I finally had our motorhome....well, home!

"The neighbors are gonna LOVE us!"



Side note - In later weeks/months, I was able to determine and fix the following:
- Power to the fuel pump died due to a faulty oil pressure sensor cut-off switch (if oil pressure was lost, it would cut power to the fuel pump, assuming there had to be an accident).
- The radiator was leaking. I lost track of the total number of pin-holes after about 50. I rebuilt the entire cooling system along with new radiator (that thing was huge) and new water pump. The temp gauge in the dash was eventually determined to be inaccurate and we used auxillary gauges.
- The refridgerator was toast and smelled like ammonia, so it had a leak too. Had to rebuild the cooling coils on that.
- The big driver's side window above the couch was leaking. We eventually tracked that down to leaking seams on the aluminum roof sheet metal.
- The A/C system on the truck chassis was dead with a hole in one of the lines. Junkyard replacement line fixed that.
- Propane fuel system (for chassis) was dead and I never did get it to work again.

Having basically brought her back from the dead, is how we arrived at her name - The Grey Ghost

She could have been left for dead in Edinburg, Alice, or in front of my house. But we persevered and kept her alive. And we made a ton of wonderful memories with friends and family.



When we decided to move up to a travel trailer years later, the couple that bought the Grey Ghost loved the story of how we got her so much, they kept the name. They even put a big sticker over the front upper window with her name for all the world to see! Over the years, I've seen her running down the road in and around the San Antonio area. It brings a big smile to my face each time.



Oh, I almost forgot....

We all went to dinner that night we finally got her home. Joe was talking about how the truck performed while towing almost 14,000 lbs. He talked about how he never got out of 6th gear, even in the hills between George West and Three Rivers. Only the traffic in San Antonio slowed him down. He even talked about how he got 13.5 miles per gallon while towing!

Knowing the looks on other driver's faces when we passed them, I had to ask...

"So exactly how fast were we going on I-37?"

"We were clipping along pretty good..." Joe said as he turned his head to trying avoid the subject.

"HOW FAST?!?"

A sly little grin came over his face as he finally admitted the truth, "At one point, we were going just over 85 mph!"

[kmack]

Siblings...'nuff said!

My sister, Shawn, and I are almost 3 yrs apart (she's older) and we are nothing alike. We don't have much in common either, except maybe the ability to torment our parents endlessly (mostly in much different ways) while we were kids. We get along fine and while I wouldn't say we are very close, we do have a pretty good relationship. I'm definitely a bit more outgoing than Shawn is. She is much more introverted than me.

One of our favorite ways to confuse Mom and Dad was to be sitting quietly at the table for dinner, then just start fighting with each other. Usually started by a "look" from either one of us at the other. These fights could escalate up to full-on punching and only lasted about a minute. Then we'd be sitting quietly while we finished dinner. It was more fun than it was true fighting.



Shawn's most favorite thing in more recent decades has been slowly dropping hints to our parents about some of my more secret adventures/happenings from my youth. Makes for interesting family get-togethers sometimes...especially when I don't know they know!

One of my favorite things to do as a kid was fireworks during 4th of July or New Years. Blowing things up is just cool! My sister didn't like it much because I found out that Whistling Chasers would always find a way to go after her. Didn't matter if she was on the other side of the house, or even in the house, they were headed her direction. I loved it, she didn't!

That's a reason why Shawn has never been, or never will, visit me during any times that fireworks are sold to the public.



Another way my sister and I are NOT alike is by physical appearance. I am 100% our Dad and she is 100% our biological mother, Suzy. I'm a 30-year-younger identical version of him. She is a 25-year-younger identical version of her.

I used to never believe it when people said I looked like my Dad... until I was 19. I was home from college and Mom was rummaging thru some old photographs on the living room floor. I picked up a small picture and asked, "When did you get a picture of me dressed in a Navy uniform?"

Mom just laughed. Only then did I realize I looked exactly like my Dad! Like an actual mini-me. My mannerisms, laughter, and even the way I talk and sound, is exactly him! Down to our crooked toes!

Shawn is the same way, but favors Suzy. It wasn't so much apparent in her younger years, but more recently I doubt you'd be able to tell them apart from each other!



Shawn and I also have very different physical characteristics from a body-structure standpoint (other than being of opposite sexes). She has a very "weak" skeletal structure as she's broken one collar bone (maybe both), broke one ankle, sprained both ankles, and tore ligaments off one of those ankles. She been in the hospital for some sort of injury many, many times.

Me: I've been in multiple car wrecks, motorcycle "mishaps", jumps off a 2nd floor roof, falls from trees, skateboard falls on big ramps, etc., but never broken a bone or even had a stay in a hospital longer than just getting a few stitches. My bones have always been pretty healthy! (knock on wood...)



That ligament injury of hers actually got me into trouble! We were visting our grandparents up in Hughes Springs (mid-80's) and she wanted to go down the big hill on my skateboard. I told her it wasn't a good idea, but she persisted.

"Ok, but stay close to the edge of the road so you can jump off into the soft dirt and pine needles if you start to loose balance."

Yeah....that didn't happen....

She went down the middle of the road and got going pretty good. Until she started a death-wobble on the board and then just jumped off! I actually saw her foot twist up under her! Her ankle swelled up to the size of a big old Ruby-Red Grapefruit before I could even get to her. X-rays later that afternoon showed almost every ligament was torn.

But it was my fault because it was my skateboard and should have known better!



Another good story related to this was when we were both involved in a head-on collision.

Growing up in the Valley next door to our great-grandparents old house meant there were always relatives stopping by. Easter has always been the time for a big family gathering on my Dad's side of the family. My Grandpa Mack was one of 12 siblings so there are a lot of aunts, uncles, and cousins.

This one year, 1980 I believe, all the kids were running around playing some sort of tag. Our cousin Matthew was pretty fast, and Shawn and I had ganged-up together to try and run him down. Shawn was hot on his heels as Matt headed around the back of the detached garage at the old house, so I went around the opposite side to head him off at a full run.

Matt rounded the far corner, ducked at the last second, and Shawn and I ran full-speed into each other's forehead! We bounced off each other and fell backwards onto the ground like a cartoon. One of my great aunts swore she heard the smack from inside the kitchen! We hit hard enough that neither one of us cried until after almost a minute went by.

Shawn was carried into my great-grandparent's kitchen screaming; I walked while trying to stifle-back some crying and a few tears. After about 15 mintues and getting everyone settled down, I had a big red mark on my forehead and Shawn had a slightly green-colored goose-egg about the size of half a golfball sticking out of her head!

The next morning, I woke up hearing my Mom scream as Shawn walked into the living room. She had two of the blackest eyes I'd ever seen! Looked like a reverse raccoon mask!

This picture was taken one week after the head-on collision...



Yes, my parents received quite a few phone calls from the school checking to make sure "everything was ok at home."

My sister and her husband were just at our house visiting this past weekend. That made me think about the two of us growing up all those years ago. We did a lot of things together, and a lot of things separate. In the last two years we've somehow gotten a little closer to each other than we have been in the last two decades. It's nice.

Love ya, Shawn. If you ever get the chance to see this, don't post up anymore secrets!

[kmack]

Driving with Joe...

Yesterday, February 1st, marks 6 years since Joe passed and went to the Hallowed Hunting Grounds.

He was a great friend to me and so much more than just my FIL. I miss him terribly, but I will always know that having him in my life was a wonderful thing.



Aside from Joe trying to get me drunk all the time (I'm guessing for his amusement), we had a lot of good times together.
Hunting was a big part of that, but there were also other things: motorcycles, cars, pawn shops, teaching Lynden...

One of the things we started doing together were the motorcycles. I had a motorcycle when Kerri and I met, so it was no surprise that Joe wanted one (again) soon after.
There were many trips across areas of Texas over the years. Usually a day ride, but a weekend trip every once in awhile.


One fun ride was around Lake Travis outside Austin back around '95. Joe had his '82 Goldwing at the time and I had a '73 Yamaha RD350.
We were somewhere on the Northside of the lake and Joe was trying desperately to keep up with me on the little "buzz-bomb".
I was far enough ahead that I couldn't see him behind me any more, so I stopped and waited at a stop sign. Took him a minute or two, but he finally showed and was grinning from ear to ear!

"Fun ride?, I asked.

He pointed down to his loafers he was wearing. They were scuffed-up all down the outside edge of both shoes.
He had been dragging his shoes in the turns and said it was the most fun he had on a bike in years!



We did an Easter weekend trip thru the Hill Country for a few days one year. The plan was to tent camp along the way and just see where we ended up. No real plan for direction, just pick a road as you came up to it!

We spent the first night in the tent at a camp ground outside Lost Maples. I soon realized that ear plugs were more useful at night than they were during the day while riding.

That man could snore louder than a chainsaw at full throttle! Didn't bother him, he'd just turn his hearing aids off! I learned to sleep with the plugs in my ears.
It was fun trip, but we stayed at a hotel the next night. Tent camping ain't much fun as you get older...



Another fun day (well actually evening) trip was on a Wednesday afternoon in June of '99. Joe came up to join in on a ride that I did regularly with other riders.

There was a weekly ride from somewhere in San Antonio (different place each week) out to Spechts Texas - Bar & Grill. This particular evening had plans to get as many riders together as we could.

Pictures were also to be taken. We ended up being part of 127 bikers at the bar that night (very few Harleys), and a big panoramic picture was taken of everyone there.

Still have the picture and Joe talked about that ride for many, many years!

That's both of us in the middle...





And there are stories of being in the truck with Joe either coming from or going to a deer lease.

Joe and I were headed out to hunt in Comfort, might have been '06. This was the 2nd or 3rd hunt I was going to out in Comfort, and I swore I knew the way without having to follow someone.

I was driving Joe's Dodge truck. The exit I was looking for was "Cypress Creek Road", but no one told me that TxDOT had changed the sign to read "FM 1341." Of course, I blew right passed it!

FM1341 runs North from IH-10 for a bit, runs parallel for a bit, and then eventually turns South and runs under IH-10.
I realized my mistake as we crossed the point where FM1341 went under the highway.

"Sorry, I'll take the next exit and we'll just turn around."

If you're familiar with IH-10W between Comfort and Kerrville, then you know there aren't a lot of exits off the highway in between.

In fact, the next "exit" I was looking for wouldn't come for another 10 miles!

In Kerrville!

Joe kept mumbling about how expensive diesel fuel was, wear-&-tear on his truck, tires, etc. etc. etc....

20 miles round-trip later.... I finally got to prove to Joe I knew where I was going. Sort of.... The rest of that weekend was uneventful.



Another fun trip in the truck with Joe was after a hunting trip in Leakey.

Dan had bought a Jeep for their ranch, so Joe came up from the Valley with his Dodge and the trailer to haul Dan's Tahoe out for his ride back home.
James had gone ahead the day before in his truck. When we finally showed up Friday night in Leakey, James told us his transmission gave out as soon as he got to the gate.

"Something" came up and we needed to leave early, so we unloaded Dan's Tahoe and loaded James' truck ('92 Chevy Ext cab w/ longbed) onto the 18' car hauler trailer.
His truck barely fit! We hit the road late Satruday night and headed up Hwy 83 to Hwy 41 (Garven Store), then on to IH-10 to head East back to San Antonio.

I was on the throttle (75 mph+) pretty good trying to make time as Joe still had a drive down to the Valley that night. It was about 10:30 pm when we pulled into Boerne for fuel.

Joe mentioned to me that I should check the trailer & tires to make sure everything was still good. I walked around to the passenger side and noticed a problem...

The rear tire was gone! Rim was still there and about 3" of the sidewalls, but the rest of it was long gone! Running on three tires and the trailer never even shook once!

We got the tire changed and continued on home with no other issues.

That "something" back in the Valley that caused the early trip home? Turned out to be gastrointestinal distress, and a good fart took care of the issue! But the hospital was already involved!



Well, these are short stories this time, I know. But still more stories. Because of the history of yesterday, I had these stories in my mind. Telling them helped keep some (but not all) of the tears at bay...

[kmack]

A raccoon's revenge...



In my oilfield days, I'd spend a lot of my time chasing down those little white/yellow road dashes in the early morning hours. Some times as part of a convoy, but most times by myself. Most of the times with a severe lack of sleep. When the lines would blur, it was time to stop. Other times, you could be so tired that you couldn't sleep. Those nights/mornings, you just kept going until you got back to the yard.

Pro-tip: an easy way to keep yourself awake late at night while driving, is to pull your nose hair out a little at a time. It's hard to get tired when your eyes are watering from the pain!

I learned a long time ago that you don't swerve for animals on the road unless they're big enough to cause major, substantial damage to either the vehicle, or yourself. So I'd typically cruise down these lost backroads of open Texas ranch land only looking out for deer or hogs. I didn't worry about much else.

One dark, cloudy night in October of 2015 I was headed East on FM 468 around 3 am. I was trying to eventually make it back into the yard in San Antonio as I was going into my days off.

I was a Safety guy at the time so I was running alone in a company truck. Motorhead was cranking on the stereo and I was cruising along about 75 mph. I'd seen a few foxes, armadillos, and skunks until....

I was still a couple miles West of Cotulla, TX when an evil-minded, anti-Big Oil raccoon decided he would sacrifice himself for the anti-drilling cause. He took a stand in the road. With a big FU from his little paw, I swear I heard him yell "Death to Big Oil and Fracking" just as my F350 plowed him down with the right front tire.

I heard the thumps and told myself, "Better him than me swerving and possibly loosing control!"

Well, seems that evil little furr-ball got the last laugh as a check oil light popped up on the dash less than a mile later. I pulled into the closest parking lot I could find only to discover oil pouring out of the bottom of the engine. The knocking started soon after...

That little b@$tard somehow managed to hit the oil filter, bend it back, and cause the life-blood of my truck to vacate its previous residence.

I never have liked raccoons...




That's not dirt covering the entire back of the truck...

[kmack]

Missing picture from This Post

This picture was taken one week after the head-on collision...

[kmack]

Things we do To (for) our kids!

As parents, we get to mold/shape our kids into (hopefully) little versions of ourselves. Although, that general idea of "upbringing" can sometimes backfire on us.

Take for example, our daughter's passive-aggressive style of smart-aleck comments. She gets that from Kerri. I know it stings just a little bit whenever Lynden makes some comment and then Kerri says, "That sounds exactly like something I would say!"

(I'm not smart enough to be up to that level of commenting-style, so it had to come from Kerri!)

Lynden is a great kid, btw, and having been a baby-sitter/nanny for twin girls for 2 years (family friend), she has picked up on a lot of our parenting style. It's good to see. She has since become a teacher and is hopefully molding more young minds in good ways.

But I have to confess, that we've done our fair-share of warping Lynden a little...

A good example:
At a very young age, most kids get it in their heads that they don't like eating something solely because they either haven't tried it themselves, or another kid told them it was bad. We went thru the typical parent issue of trying to convince Lynden they she should at least try something once before deciding if she likes it or not.

So, as a joke one day, at breakfast, we told her she didn't like bacon! And she said ok...
Well... this notion of "bacon=bad" went on far longer than we ever imagined! For years....

If sitting at a restaurant for breakfast, Lynden would immediately ask to delete the bacon off an order. To which we would reply, "Just put it on the side, we'll take it!"

It wasn't until Lynden spent the night at a friend's house and the parents (also friends of ours) called after breakfast to ask us a simple question...

"What the heck is wrong with your kid that she doesn't like bacon?"

So at that point, we had to confess. Lynden didn't think it was funny, although we all laugh about it now. She's a pretty good eater nowadays!

And Lynden will stab a fork into your hand if you try to grab a piece of bacon off her plate...


2nd example:
Lynden is whistle trained!

It started out by not wanting to yell all the time when calling her into a room. So we started whistling and then calling her name. Eventually, it just became a whistle. And Lynden would come running...

Works really great in a crowded store or other gathering. Just whistle a few times and eventually she shows up!

To be honest, I was whistle trained myself by my maternal grandfather, but it was used to call me home when I was more than a couple 100 yds away and out in the woods. (Again, molding your kids into little versions of yourself...)

Kerri and I are really proud of this "feature", although we may brag about it a little too much! We do like to show-off the process a bit.

We talked about Lynden being whistle trained one evening while drinking with some neighbors. Lynden's bedroom was on the other side of the interior garage back wall in our house. The garage doors were open, but we were all sitting in the driveway. It was about 9 pm and Lynden was already put in bed, asleep.

Having some drinks in us, we thought we'd see if the whistle would work. So Kerri started whistling... once.... twice.... and a third time just for good measure....

About a minute after we started another conversation, a sleepy little Lynden rolled out into the garage asking what we wanted!

Initially, we felt bad. But we put her back to bed and then laughed our butts off having realized that it actually worked!

Even today, at Lynden's advanced age of 23, it still works!


A Christmas wonder!

We all love a kid's wonder with Santa! But sometimes, kids are just pains in the you-know-where. And you still hate to hurt their views of the Christmas season. One year, Lynden really pushed us.

It was about 3rd grade and she had been involved in a situation with some other girls that pushed another little girl and called her names. Lynden hadn't actually done the name-calling or pushing, but she didn't stick up for, or help the little girl either. As punishment, we had Lynden write a letter to Santa saying she had been a bad friend and to ask for forgiveness in light of Christmas being about a week away.

Lynden, in her beginnings of stubbornness, decided she would just write a wish-list, asking for more gifts. Needless to say, that didn't go over well. Kerri and I decided as additional punishment, that we would go camping over Christmas. If we weren't home, then Santa might not even stop by the house to drop off presents!

Lynden was about at that age where she had heard the rumors of "Santa is not real" but she was kind of struggling with the idea of maybe not getting any presents. Not being at home for gifts under the tree on Christmas morning was also causing some grief.

Well, we packed up the travel trailer and headed out to Guadalupe State Park the day before Christmas eve. Lynden was moping around and was being a bit of a pain.

Christmas Eve: Coming back to the camp site after walking the dogs, I spotted a satellite moving across the cloudless night sky.

"Lynden, c'mere quick!"

I pointed it out to her and she immediately screamed, "SANTA!!!!"

Then in a little bit of a whimper, she asked if he was headed to our house. Kerri and I told her that if she didn't get her act together, that Santa would know and just skip on by. (There were no presents under the tree when we left the house for the trip and Lynden was keenly aware of that fact.)

She promised us, and Santa, that she would be good and she apologized for her behavior.

On a chance we would get her to see the error of her ways, we had already contacted Kerri's brother to sneak over to the house and put all the gifts under the tree. We left the park on Christmas morning and headed home.

It was one of the best Christmas mornings we've had, and we got Lynden to hang onto the idea of Santa all the way into middle school!

(Follow-up to the above story...)

She was 11 (2009) when Lynden asked about the reality of Santa. She was sitting at the table eating breakfast with our exchange-student, Mhud, when she asked. She was a little disappointed that I had tricked her with the satellite that one night, but she took in all in stride. Then she asked about the Easter Bunny, and she took that pretty good, too. Then a bit of a long pause...

It was when she asked about the Tooth-Fairy that it got kind of weird. She had a really serious look on her face when she asked that question, and we really think she was a true believer.

Lynden asked, looked at me, and then looked at Kerri... Kerri asked, "Do you really want to know?"

After Lynden nodded her head, Kerri reached up into the kitchen cabinet next to the stove. On the shelf above the plates, Kerri pulled out all of Lynden's teeth, one by one and then showed them to her!

"That's gross, Mom!!!!


Fun trick for the littles...

We did this once for New Years Eve at the Cooper-Maxwell Ranch in Leakey.
We had 3 families out for a New Years weekend: Dan/Michelle, James/Julie, Kerri/myself, along with all the kids. About 6 of them at the time, I think.

Kids were running around like crazy all day and planning to stay up for the evening's festivities. As parents, we'd been up all day long too and were ready for the kids to go to bed....early!

Kerri had this great idea. She waited until about 9 pm, then changed the clock on the microwave to about 11:40 pm. We called all the kids into the kitchen and told them to be ready for fireworks in about 20 minutes!

30 minutes later, they were all in bed!

(Love it when kids have no sense of time!)

[kmack]

No thanks, I'll drive myself!

Ever have one of those times where something sounded like a good idea beforehand, but as soon as you got to the moment at hand, you immediately realize the error of your ways?

Friday afternoon, at about 4:30 pm on June 13, 1997 was one of those moments for me.

The month before, I had graduated UTSA (finally, after 7 yrs) with my Construction Mgt degree and had been actively searching for a new job. The week before that fateful Friday, I had been hired by a company that installed stadium seating. Being based out of San Antonio, I figured I'd be close to home on a regular basis....wrong!

My first assignment/project was the Arizona Diamondback's new stadium in downtown Phoenix! The project Superintendent had already been onsite for a couple weeks, and happened to be in San Antonio when I was hired. We met at the company office and he offered to let me ride out with him, so that I wouldn't have to worry about driving by myself. And I could use the company van for transportation once I was out there. Nice enough gesture!

The plan was to drive out to Phoenix on Saturday. Start work on Monday.

Raul, the superintendent, called me on Thursday and asked if I was willing to go a day early, on Friday. Sure!

My first mistake was assuming that others follow the same idea as Kerri and I with regard to leaving on trips: leave early in the morning, like 4 am early! My fault for not verifying...

After a phone call Friday morning, Raul said we'd leave in the afternoon. Which to me meant early afternoon. 2nd assumption mistake.

He pulled up to the house at 4:30 pm...
...in a '94 Ford Escort (2 door)...
...with 12" low-rider wire wheels...

That was the moment I realized my mistake. It just got worse from there...

I hauled my big suitcase and a slightly smaller bag out to the street (he couldn't pull up to the house because of how the drieway slopes and how low the car was) and went around to the trunk to load up. Opening up the trunk revealed a huge speaker box and no room for suitcases or bags of any kind.

Keep in mind, I'm basically moving out to Phoenix (not permanently, but for awhile) so I didn't pack light! The back seat of the car was now going to be piled high with bags/suitcases. Great!

Raul's plan was to drive all night and pull into Phoenix Saturday morning. He said we could share driving on the way. I don't mind driving, but I don't particularly like driving at night, but ... ok.

I kissed Kerri goodbye and we got on the road.

By the time we got to Boerne (20 miles down the road), I was already sick and tired of the thumping ganster-rap coming from those speakers......only 1000+ more miles to go!

Somewhere around Van Horn, Raul said he was tired and asked me to drive.

"Sure..."

I haven't had a nap or anything because of the bad music, and haven't slept all day because we should have left 12 hours earlier, but, sure....I can drive because YOU'RE TIRED!

He crashed out immediately!

After turning the rap music off, I was able to make it just West of El Paso before getting really tired. Then I started looking for a radio station...

FM dial had absolutely nothing, and the AM dial only had two Spanish stations that I could sort of get. I don't know if it was the car with bad reception, or just being out in the middle of nowhere. But it was slim-pickens! I gave up and turned everything off.

About this time I really started paying attention to how fast everyone was driving by us. I looked at the speedo....it said about 85 mph. There were semi's honking as they blew by!

I sped up and had buried the needle at an indicated 120 mph just to try and keep up with traffic, before I finally realized what was going on. Those stupid little wheels!

"Why, Ken? Why did you agree to this?"

We eventually pulled into Phoenix almost 18 hrs after leaving San Antone.



As with anything in life, there are things that happen that we really should be paying attention to. But we often get caught up in life and don't see the oncoming outcomes. It's called foreshadowing...

I really should have been paying attention...

While my stint in Phoenix was an adventure, and there were some really good memories from there, the overall experience didn't last long. I was back in San Antonio by August, and onto a new company and new job by Labor Day.

Life-lesson learned: Don't try to make long trips in cars with small wheels!

[kmack]

Misc. ramblings that appear to be words as wisdom!

Just a few phrases and sayings that have helped me over the years during this journey I call life...

(This first one is the only one here on this list that are my own words)

Early in my younger years, I wasn't always such a big fan of having kids. But I now share this with those that are starting their journey into parenting:

With your kids, make the most of everyday (good and bad), make the most of every minute (they go by way too fast), and enjoy the ride...it's a long one, but well worth the time you put into it!



These next few I keep within daily view for dealing with "work issues" and "customers". I'm a nice guy, but sometimes it's the only way to help keep the blood pressure down:

D.G.A.F.
(You can probably figure this one out, but for those that need a hint... (Don't Give A F...)


NO is a complete sentence!


Silence says a lot more than you think!
(I use this one A LOT during contract negotiations!)



These last few have helped me thru a few tough times in my life, both mentally and emotionally:

Do not live in fear of what someone may or may not do. Fortune favors the bold.


The pain of discipline is nothing like the pain of disappointment.


...and lastly...

In life, you should do everything you can to avoid a fight, whether physical, personal, professional, or legal: absolutely everything you can. Conflict is expensive on many levels and you never know the true cost until it's over. However:

If you are in a situation where you have done absolutely everything you can to avoid it and it's clear that you have no choice but to fight this person, then remember this: Hit first, hit hard, and be unrelentingly ruthless in your attack on them. There's no such thing as fighting fair so don't even try. Do not stop until your opponent has clearly been defeated, surrendered, and given up. Because if you don't, it's likely that you will be the loser and end up injured physically, professionally, financially, or emotionally.

(I don't remember where I read this last one above, but this was exactly what I needed to see at one of the worst times in my life. To whomever wrote these words that eventually got before my eyes, I offer a very humble and heartfelt, Thank You!)

[kmack]

Missing photos from post #31

1st photo missing from the top of the post...



2nd missing photo from ...

Fun after the work - usually hunting
...the hunt in January of 2006

[Burnadell]

Those are great stories. To me, hunting camp is about enjoying the camp fire and reminiscing about good times. Joe is the kind of guy who makes life fun..a hoot!


Thanks for shoring these.

[kmack]

You're welcome! Thanks for stopping by to read them!

And Joe was also the guy that had a part in making me into the person I am today. I am forever grateful for the time we shared (even though it may have been slightly questionable at those exact moments in time)!

Nowadays, I try to make it a point to tell stories in camp...good and bad. Those are the memories that shape us.