My Trip to “The Farm”

Ruthie Gray Uncategorized Leave a Comment

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It’s that time of year again – deer season.  I am married to a hunter, so this means he spends time in the woods whenever possible from now through early December.  In early married years this was a source of contention.  Now, it’s more like – “Go on – git!”

Jim owns some property which he terms, “The Farm”.  It’s not a farm, but it is adjacent to a farm, and cows and horses come and relieve themselves right at his front door, so that’s why he calls it a farm.

Today I finally said yes to my husband’s request of two years:  “Will you come with me to the farm today?”

Here’s how it is:  I do not hunt.  I do not want to hunt.  I do not have time to travel two hours away to walk around in woods (usually).  Jim built a little cabin at the farm two years ago – I’ve never seen it.  I went to this place once, we took a big hike, and I never went back.

Jim absolutely adores this place and so do the kids.  Well, I take that back, Taryn does not love outside, period.  There are bugs and crawly things. That time we took the hike, she complained the entire time, and when we sat on a log to eat a little snack, she swatted at gnats and jumped at lots of of imaginary bugs.  Anyone who knows her will understand – she’s just not an outdoors-y kinda gal.

It was a beautiful ride, the mountains a patchwork quilt of color!  We took the girls (school was cancelled for the day), and Hayley got lots of pictures of the beautiful scenery.

There isn’t really a road for a vehicle to drive right up to the cabin – ATV yes, vehicle – no.  So Jim’s farm neighbor lets him use his gated road which leads to beautiful meadows with cattle and horses.  We drove right through the meadows and up to the barbed wire fence, behind which was the cabin.

This sounds easy, but it was actually a harrowing experience for me.  First of all, the road is rough, gutted, and STEEP!!!  I had to hang onto my door handle and suck in my breath.  Jim showed me where he slid the truck over a hill in thick, slippery mud one rainy day – while towing a trailor full of building materials. He does stuff like that all the time and acts like it’s nothing.  Which is mainly why I try not to go with him on these outings – I know what he’s like.  Mr. “I’ll-take-a-risk-any-day-of-the-week”.  He always comes out smelling like a rose, though, which makes him right most of the time. I hate that – then again, I guess it’s a good thing.

Next, we drove through cattle.  Most of them were compliant and moved out of the way, but there was a HUGE fat bull – complete with horns – sitting with it’s back to us right smack in the middle of the road.  “Ehh…he’s a grouchy one sometimes” muttered Jim – more breath sucking from me.  Jim honked the horn, the bull stood up and swung his head around to leer at us, Jim made a joke, and I gasped, “DEAR!” (because that’s what I call him – always).  Bull moves up out of the way, we drive on, the girls laugh hysterically at me being so scared, and Hayley snaps a picture of the bull as we drive away.

We drove through the fenced cow yard where all the patties are, through more cows, and then, right through the open meadow.  This was fascinating to me – you can tell I’m not a cow girl.

Well, the little cabin was just so cute – after I meandered through the cow patties and over the barbed wire (which Jim graciously held down for my stubby little legs).  Jim has recently added a front porch which has an amazing view of the pasture land we just traveled, and we sat in camp chairs to enjoy.  The inside wasn’t near as small as I thought it would be, with it’s little wood burning stove, bunks, and portable kitchen.  We did some tidying up inside and took a walk out back.

The trails go on and on, it was a beautiful walk. “Why didn’t you bring my mountain bike?” I accused, “This is perfect for riding!”  Ah well, we had a great trek, Jim pointing out his deer stand, deer signs, and we even caught a glimpse of a deer.

I do not attempt to understand why my husband enjoys hunting so much, I only know that it is a relaxing outlet for him that goes way back to his roots.  He has fond memories of time spent with his dad during hunting season.  “Dad would have loved it out here, you know?” He mused. “And this porch would have been built long ago, as well as siding on the cabin if he had anything to do with it.” These days, Jim is building memories with our son Nolan on their hunting trips. The commaradarie is priceless.

And now, I don’t need to go back for – oh, say another two years at least!

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