Issue link: https://read.dmtmag.com/i/498244
40 • MAY 2015 • WORLD FENCE NEWS In our house, the coffee pot is always on. It's hot and ready for any eventuality and for all who knock at the door. This has been the tradition with which I grew up. Mother always did this, so in deference to her, I do the same. In my family, I believe the full coffee pot has been there for gen- erations. Here are two coffee stories that I hope you will find entertaining. This first tale, which always strikes my funny bone, is as follows: Each of our guests say, "You make the best cup of coffee!" They are served cup, saucer and spoon, then say, "I al- ways like my coffee in a mug." I guess that the mug increases the quality and flavor of the coffee! This second tale has perpetually blown me away every time when it's retold. Personality traits and idiosyn- crasies of individuals most often make me shake my head in disbelief and in- credulity. However, the humor of it all is not diminished or lost on me. My big blue porcelain coffee pot is always with me on hunting trips. I may forget some other important item, but never "Big Blue." Now, to make a long story longer – My plan was to load all my hunting and camping gear onto the truck along with the materials to finish a fence job. The project was that of fencing an ex- pansion of the perimeter of a feedlot. The site was about halfway between home and the camp site. It didn't take long to tie up all the loose ends and to turn in the bill to the ranch hand. Also, it didn't take long for the black flies to swarm my face. It seemed that they especially liked my nose. Swatting at them, I headed for my truck with a swarm trail- ing behind. The black devils headed there too and were deter- mined to take up residence in the cab. So, me and the flies drove off for the camp site. It was a fairly cool morning and I had opened the windows trying to rid my truck cab of those pesky flies. Soon I found myself getting a bit cold, so I turned on the heater. It didn't take but a minute to discover that I had another problem. Placing a plastic bottle of elk urine on the dash seemed a good idea, but alas, was not. There was a pin hole in the side of the bottle, thus letting egress of the contents into the fan vent. Those pesky flies weren't so bad after all. 'Twas a great relief to pull in at Smoky Boulder, the camp site. There for a moment, when getting out of the truck, I was a little apprehensive with the thought of killing the grass. No vegetation on God's green earth could withstand or survive the smell that poured out of the opened door onto the ground. But, I exaggerate a bit. I built a fire and while the flames grew, I unloaded all of the camping gear. The wall tent went up without a hitch. I got into the chuck box, and re- trieved Big Blue. You can't make camp without coffee on the fire, ready to go. Tony, my youngest boy, was to join me later as soon as he got off work. Tony was to bring all the grub for the hunt. Elk season would open in two more days and I wanted time to reconnoiter the area. With deer season already open, we were pretty sure the elk would be scattered, so scouting early on was a good idea. With camp set and being a lit- tle tired, I plopped myself down in a lawn chair in front of the fire. I had a hot cup of coffee at hand along with a sandwich, as I never go anywhere without brown-bagging. I opened my Alistair Maclean book and promptly fell asleep. Of course I fell asleep. I had put in a hard days' work and it was now only a little past one o'clock. Us old guys need our rest! I was abruptly awakened with a start. A small 17 foot motor home was just turning off the main track and into the camping area. The mo- tor home stopped right by the fire. An elderly lady poked her head out and asked, "Is this Smoky Boulder?" I answered in the affirmative. The gentleman driving found a fair- ly level spot and parked. I went over and asked if there was anything that I could help them with their set-up. The old guy said, "No, I got it!" As soon as they set out chairs and dropped their awning, they moseyed on over to my spot. "Is that coffee I smell? We brought our mugs along just in case." I grabbed Big Blue and poured. We stood around and jabbered for quite awhile. A friendly pair they Can you imagine life without coffee? I can't! BY JIM FORRER, RETIRED FENCER, CALDWELL, IDAHO continued on page 42 Placing a plastic bottle of elk urine on the dash seemed like a good idea, but alas, it was not. There was a pin hole in the side of the bottle, thus letting egress of the contents into the fan vent. Those pesky flies weren't so bad after all.