A long time ago (45 years at least) I went on an elk hunt for the smaller coastal elk. My first ex dentist and family friend lived near Cathlamet, a little bitty berg on the Columbia River about 20 miles from the Pacific. Chris invited me to go with he and his two sons on opening weekend. Worked perfect, my ex got to spend a long weekend with her friends and family and I got to go hunting with a guy I really liked.

Chris had twin boys that were about 5 years younger than me. They were good athletes, and were sophomores at UW where they ran cross country. They were the leaders and they took us to places no human had ever seen. We never saw a single bull so came home empty.

45 years ago I was lean and mean and I'm here to tell you that those twins used me up (Chris too). We headed home just after sunset and all I wanted was a shower and Jack Daniels. When we got to their place Mrs. Chris met us to see how we did. We told her and she said "Before you come in the house I have a task for you." She'd gone out to feed the horses late in the day and there was a bull elk eating out of the feeder. She went back in the house, got a .30-30 and dropped that elk right where he stood. We had to clean an elk before we could shower. We were allowed one JD each before we commenced.

On Wednesday night Chris called me. Being Wednesday he went out to play golf at the local 9 hole course. He killed an elk right on the course and got the local butcher to help him clean it.

Obviously, I wasn't meant to get a Coastal Elk.