I received a call from a friend Tim in Columbus Ga this past week. Apparently my Step Brother Chris was going to be in Atlanta for work this week and decided to drive to Columbus and visit him over the weekend. They called me to join in since we haven’t all seen each other in years. I agreed and with some strings pulled and some guys covering for me at work during the weekend I was able to make the trip to Columbus early Saturday morning. Tim made mention that it would be cool if we and few other of his friends all went squirrel hunting like old times. This was not taken completely serious therefore leading me and Chris in several small issues.
As we exited the trucks Chris and I noticed our first problem. Our hunting “attire” was not quit the hunting status per say as the other special force commando’s exiting their vehicles. It kind of resembled a small platoon of soldiers with two local hostages.
Me in my jeans, American Eagle Fleece Jacket and loafers.
Chris in his brightly colored wind breaker, gray slacks and tennis shoes. If you look closely, you might be able to spot Chris as well as Commando #2 trying to blend into the surroundings. Stealth is key!!
Regardless of our non-warish look, we march into the wilderness in search of the allusive tree rat.. After countless minutes of marching we arrive in an open clear cut area. Good place to stop, regroup, and come up with different offensive measures. However this leads to yet another problem. As we discuss our next strategy, it is brought to my attention by one of the other Commandos that this is the exact location they were nearly attacked by pit bulls the last time they were there. My thoughts are “Humm.. You don’t say.. Very nice.. Rabid Pit Bulls huh.. Great!!.. Good thing Chris and I are so noticeable, this way while they are mauling me and Chris to death you guys might have a good chance of making a break for it and escape.”
Regardless of the danger we carry on like real men with a mission at hand, must push on. Walking quietly and not a single sign of the enemy we somehow sneak up on a freaking grave yard. I’m thinking “Seriously?? Wrong Cloths, Rabid wild dogs, and now a lost grave yard?”
Again look close.. You might be able to find Chris, along with Commando #3 overlooking some of the adult graves. I didn’t take any pictures of the children’s graves laying around.. God knows what kind of bad luck that would have brought.
At this point I’m thinking this has to be a bad sign. I mean, when has anything good ever come of just stumbling upon dead bodies buried out in the middle of nowhere??
To make a longer story short, we eventually made it back to the trucks. Fire off a few rounds at whatever looked like a good target, and kicked back a few beers with old friends.
Even though there were no kills the trip went great. Even got a nice blurry picture of us all.
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