Back in the winter of 1984, Kenny had a deer lease on several thousand acres of south Texas land between Laredo and Freer. He was so gracious to ask me down a few times. (or anytime I wanted to come).
That weekend several people were there, but all were still out hunting. Kenny and I both arrived back at camp lodge, on our 4 wheelers.
The timing was such that coming from opposite directions we reached the big open gravel parking lot in front of the lodge at the same time. We skillfully headed for each other but turned slightly and missed a head-on. The game was on then, so we each turned and started running in a big circle, in opposite ways of course. Each revolution would bring us closer and closer in our game of chicken. Once we had done that a few times the dust got so thick that we finally made contact. That resulted in both 4 wheelers ejecting the riders and they each tip on their sides. It had the look of a scene from a Saturday morning cartoon, I’m sure.
I remember us hurriedly getting each 4-wheeler uprighted to cut down on the ridicule from the rest of the guys when they got back to camp.
The most miraculous part of that whole story. We each had gun racks on the handle bars. Mine had a new fancy 300 Mag Weatherby Rifle it with the nicest Ziess scope and I think Kenny’s did too. We had given each other those guns for Christmas.
Me being left handed and Kenny a righty, the guns were in the rack in opposite directions. When we turned them each back up, neither gun had even a scratch on it. If they had each been racked the other direction they both mostly liked would have been completely demolished.
Now as for the scratches on both of us, that was a different story. Luckily we each had on heavy clothes and even gloves that provided some protection. Even in our thirties, we were getting too old for that crap.
I went in the hospital in early Feb. 1985 for my first neck surgery. The collision hadn’t caused it, because I was already schedule for surgery prior to the hunting trip, but I’m sure it didn’t help it.