A' Hunting We Will Go

 Grandpa and Grandma Cumings at deer camp -- 1946.

(Thanks for the photo loan, Cousin Leo.)

 I never stayed at one of their deer camp gatherings, but visited at least a few times...and was fascinated. The tent looks like the same one I remember -- a similar tent, provided by our friend Pat, was what the Brick camped in some years during hunting season, until we got a popup camper for the back of the truck.

This may give you a better idea of group hunting during older times. In Michigan, at least. ('Up north,' I believe.)

They would have been proud of the Brick.   They never got a chance to know him...but they would have been proud.

 Grandpa Cumings died in 1960. Grandma died in January 1975. I was a junior in high school, but spent a lot of time at her house, thanks to The Mama, her youngest child. We were there often, and I knew (and loved) her very well.

We (yours truly, the Brick and Daughter #1) spent the weekend processing meat from the Brick's five-point bull. As near as we can figure, we got at least 200 pounds -- maybe more. (An older elk is about the size of a horse.) And that's with the Brick and friend Tom having to dress out and quarter the animal with darkness coming on. Coyotes definitely got some of the leftover meat, though the guys did the best they could.

    I'm glad to have all that lovely meat waiting in the freezer, but I just can't eat it right now: 'elk overload.' It's easy to keep to an 'other-protein' diet when you're processing. (Too much 'parts is parts.')

     Give me a week, and the meat will taste delicious.