On the morning of October 12, 2004 I said goodbye to an old and dear friend that had been with me up and down every game trail in the mountains and across the vast plains of Colorado and Wyoming for just over six years.
The end came suddenly and quite unexpected. We were headed up to retrieve the 5x6 bull that I had downed just before dark the night before. It was a relaxed morning for me. The hunt was over and the work was about to begin.
For the task we got the ATV out of the enclosed trailer and three of us climbed on board for the first mile before we had to leave the logging road. It was a crowded ride indeed. We clung onto the racks of the vehicle to steady the ride. We were just past the beaver pond when the sharp sound of snapping wood shot through the air. In an instant my friend was gone. It got caught between the foot peg and the fender of the all terrain vehicle and that is all she wrote. It was now in three unusable pieces. Yes, my friend was a good walking stick. It was gone in the blink of an eye.
I have reflected back to that end of summer day back in 1998 when Don was showing me the area around Red Feathers where he had hunted elk and deer for many seasons. We took some time to pick out just the right aspen to shape into a good, light weight walking stick.
I treasured that aspen walking stick. I knew every inch of it. I spent a few hours making it just right and personalizing it. It had a half inch hole drilled through it near the top and another hole drilled into it from the top into the center. The hole in the top housed a piece of dowel that could be slipped out and into the hole in the side. It was just the right height for a rifle rest for a standing shot.
I had also carved an elk's head into the top right above where my hand grasped the stick so many times. It was truly a personalized walking stick.
Now that my friend has met the end of its usefulness I am faced with the dilemma of what to do with it. Some heartless bastards would say that it is only a stick and to throw it away and get a new one. I feel the need to show it the proper respect that one would show for any friend that has served me well. A burial does not seem proper so I will preserve its memory by mounting it on the wall of my office a reminder that even a plain old piece of aspen can provide comfort and security when treated with respect.
This friend had helped me up off the ground, steadied my walk over rugged terrain and I have grabbed and held on tight to this friend to save me from falling on so many more occasions than I care to remember. This was a true friend that I have leaned on when it seemed at times that I could not take another step. This friend was beside me every step of the way. There were a few times that my friend was not with me, but it was due to my negligence, my friend never let me down.
I peeled the bark off of it and dried it in the sun for a few weeks and sanded it smooth. Next, I applied a few coats of linseed oil to protect it from the wide range of weather conditions that that it was surely to be subjected to.