If what we experienced for the next hour and a half of our hunt was shown to me on a hunting video, I would assume that it had been spliced together from several sessions.

The one discordant note from the first day came from the lack of elk.

My Dad was no saint. He could (and often did) swear like a sailor. He had a temper that was scary to behold. And he helped me understand the almost indescribable excitement of the hunt.