Post by tynimiller on Nov 1, 2018 18:14:25 GMT -5
Apologies it took so long, I know many have wondered if I was going to share the story on the forum...
The Hunt For Cicero
To start the discussion of the October 5th, 2018 hunt we have to rewind for a just a quick minute to March of 2016. I had just closed on my very own slice of God’s creation in Indiana. This was something I NEVER thought would have occurred when it did, and truly had given up on having my own piece of ground till well into my 40s or 50s.
There I was however with the deed to a little over 22 acres to call my own. It wasn’t what many would consider prime ground (if it was I wouldn’t own it), however I was ready to make it my own. Now two and a half years later with a long list of habitat items to do yet I’ve been blessed with two bucks, one of which I doubt I’ll ever top again.
Cicero was a buck that was barely on our radar in 2016 and 2017. He swung by a few times on camera during the season…but only in the darkest cover of the night. It was this factor I never gave him much thought or wasted time naming him as Pops and I wouldn’t be talking about him.
Well this year he showed up on velvet in mid-July, and as far as antler growth was concerned he was well ahead of every single other buck. I can remember even texting a friend of mine much more experienced in massive bucks if I was kidding myself to imagine I have an actual booner or close to it using the place. We both figured he was an early and quick grower, but definitely could have that potential.
Once velvet started dropping I assumed like all the other years he’d disappear and only appear every now and then, however his appearances on camera became more regular and his use of the property more often. By mid-September it became very clear he not only was utilizing the property regularly, he was using the bedding on the property and/or the ones immediately beside it nearly 3-6 times a week.
The plan was to not move in on Cicero unless EVERYTHING pointed towards extremely high chance of success…the biggest thing needed would be an Easterly wind. The stand I knew I had the greatest chance hung along an overgrown fence row near the western edge of the property. It was actually the same stand I shot the first buck off my property back in 2016, and overlooks a clover/chicory plot speckled with pockets of wild raspberry thickets and sapling islands. This winding and mess of a plot is actually called the Fruit Plot, as it has quite a few apple and pear trees planted both of the last couple seasons.
The plot itself was just one reason the stand is arguably the best on the property. The biggest reason is that it is situated on the west side of a portion of this plot, and on all the other 3 sides are bedding no farther than 40-65 yards from the stand. To the North, East and West all had viable and regularly used bedding cover…the spot with an East wind was and is KILLER (pun intended).
However, as any fellow Hoosier from the Michiana (Michigan/Indiana area) knows we simply don’t get easterly type winds often…so when the forecast came out for the weather shift hitting us October 4th I started paying attention to everything, despite it being so early in the season.
The evening of the 4th was when I wanted to be up a tree….the storm front would have just moved through which included not only rain, but a pretty substantial temperature swing in the downward direction. Mixed with this was a predominate wind shift, but it didn’t swing until the 5th and it was that day the magical “E” showed up in the wind prediction and called for a steady ESE wind all day.
However, those were not the only factors I was paying attention to. Barometric pressure due to front was swinging, the moon in the dark phase just days from a new one with underfoot being approximately 5:44PM on October 5th…these and many other factors all were lining up and pointing towards ambushing Cicero (or one of the other mature bucks) earlier in the season than I normally would go in.
It would have been impossible to live with myself had I not hunted that night with everything aligning for movement, so the plan was set, I was hunting for Cicero the 5th.
THE DAY OF THE HUNT
When the morning of the 5th came around I still remember checking my Weather Underground app before work and incessantly throughout the morning. Any sign of winds not being easterly meant no hunting for Cicero, luckily midday all looked good and I headed home to shower and leave.
The entrance to the set-up is one of the shorter ones on the property, but not easy to slip in undetected due to how close the bedding was. The rain from overnight and morning drizzle had everything quiet though…which was awesome for entrance/exit but not for filming. So for the first time in years the full camera set up would stay at the truck and I’d hit the tree with no real plan of filming taking a priority, this was both a relief and a worry (I just knew something was going to happen).
Slipping away from the truck the first 100 yard or so walk is through an overgrown abandoned yard of sorts that neighborhood kids used as a dirt track a long time ago, so lots of low quality forage and grasses attempting life call that space home. I say this because while overgrown and bedding in it is an option, more often than not this sparsely populated space of scrub grasses and shrubs is void of action.
Getting through the overgrown field was a slow process but one which zero deer were alerted, chalk that up as a success. Now for the biggest task…getting over the old barb wire fence 20 yards from the stand, up the stand and set up, all within known beds less than 40 to 50 yards away. The wind was blowing more straight E than ESE as I crossed the fence, chalk up another success. I estimate it took approximately 20 minutes to make that 20 yard walk, climb, gear hung and arrow nocked; however no deer blew or could be heard leaving the area, chalk up another success.
At this point I texted the wife and Pops a “uts” text (what we do to say ‘up tree safe’) and texted a friend a text saying it isn’t a matter IF a shooter is close it is a matter of if they choose to hit this spot and that scrape. That scrape was one Cicero had been visiting at all hours since about September 1st on his way to bed in the mornings, during the day during feedings or at night after getting up and out of his bed.
It felt right, which most likely meant nothing would move…and nothing did move. It was dead quiet. Not even a groundhog or squirrel offered entertainment and the birds seemed to be hushed as well.
Pops texted me a little after 6PM “Sure thought they would be moving…” to which I responded “Nothing here either yet.”
The time stamp on that text is mere minutes before I see movement over my back left shoulder. You see there is a trail leading towards the stand that then sweeps angling slightly SE from its main North to South orientation towards the stand. Up that trail and to its North and East side of it was bedding cover Cicero loved to use and was a suspected spot he would be likely to come from. With an ESE wind he could enter the plot wind in his favor and my wind just missing him…which is precisely what occurred.
Let me back up just a tick though, after I texted Pops but prior to seeing movement, a dear friend of mine popped into my mind (one met on bowhunting.com forums actually) that had recently come through some rather serious cancer issues. As I set there I was kind of flooded with how amazing it was just the blessing to hunt and bowed my head to say a quick prayer of continued health and recovery for my friend but also of thankfulness for my health and ability to be doing precisely what I love.
As I raised my head and opened my eyes I remembering hearing a twig snap directly behind me and to the north. Unable to see behind the tree through the thicket of briars and brambles I waited…and waited…then little closer I heard an overhead branch disturbed by a scrape behind me. At this point excitement grew as I knew it had to be a buck…calming my mind and nerves I tell myself it is probably one of the yearlings.
Few minutes go by and nothing…then I catch it. The slight movement of antler over my left shoulder behind me and at where the trail dumps out into the secluded plot. Peering back through the thick cover of oak leaves I see the deer step out into the clover more and begin eating mouths fool of clover. Unable to see which buck it is I just keep watching. As his mouth reaches full capacity, clover actually sticking out, he raises his head and it lands in a gap in the leaves. To this day I still bet I gasp…luckily not loud enough for him to hear as I realized it was Cicero. His split G2 on his right side stuck out like a sore thumb wrapped in gauze and I immediately tried all I could to not look at his antlers again. He was the biggest buck I’d ever seen on hoof, and he was under 15 yards away.
What is about to be expressed I’m a little embarrassed I even considered, but feel the decision not to do it is worth its inclusion in the story. As I sat there unable to shoot with this deer at a mere 12-15 yards feeding I noticed a small hole in the oak leaves. Now the longer Cicero fed, he began to slightly angle to the NE and away from me…if he did this and chose that direction he would never present a shot and ultimately head above the pond and over to the other side of the property entirely. As he did this he edged his way towards a small opening (volleyball size at best…probably closer to a softball)…I grabbed my bow and remember thinking to myself “I can make that shot.” Well in order to even get into position I had to draw my bow facing forward…and then turn and slightly maneuver the bow at full draw through a vine hanging down and a lower limb. Getting into position I could feel the vine pressing against my grip and sight, the lower cam was very close to a branch. What in God’s name are you thinking…and as Cicero fed through the tiny window, I navigated back out and turned to the front of the stand. I was not going to take a shot that went against everything logical and ethical that I as a hunter preach.
Now facing forward I had to let the bow down without the arrow rattling off the rest even slightly…I have never wanted a whisker biscuit more than in that moment. I let the bow down and the arrow slid off the rest just one time and made that seemingly loud “tick” noise before my finger grabbed it. With my eyes closed I prayed he didn’t hear.
Slowly opening my eyes and looking back through the oak leaves I saw him head up and looking away to the East…big root of a clover stem sticking out of his mouth. I watched as his angle was taking him around the island thicket in the plot on off to the East, my chance was not to occur.
THE CHANCE
He stopped however.
He turned.
He is began coming down the plot all seemingly in less than a second, almost like something had caught his attention or he wanted to hit that scrape down to his South (my SE). As he neared the edge of the cover he was going to step out right at 16 yards and be broadside…and he stopped.
He turned.
He then headed to an apple tree I had fenced around and proceeded to gobble a couple leaves off of it.
Then yet again he stopped though.
He turned.
Now he was at the point of breaking cover, so I draw…he steps…I can see his neck, shoulder…
He stops.
He turns and half behind cover and half exposed walks directly towards the stand. You see along the edge of the tree line I was tucked in (about 9-12 yards away) we disced up a portion of the clover/chicory and planted oats and heavy chicory around September 1st. He reached this strip and head down began gorging himself again.
At full draw still I could see the top of his body, neck and head when he raised it…but sitting down I could not shoot to the vitals. It was at this moment I decided if I slowly rose up I know I could squeeze a shot off, as I did not want to continue holding longer and start shaking.
I slowly rise up….notice he is quartering to me slightly, and pause till his closest foot comes back down opening up the vitals a tick more and slowly squeeze…
He peels off to the NE, around that island of cover in the plot, and runs East above the pond as I suspected he was going to head towards moments earlier.
Just around 13 seconds pass (camera captured shot, not the deer on screen) and the loud crash happens.
I’ve never been one to really get the shakes in the moment when a shot is commencing on a buck…however those moments that follow the shot are intense.
I can remember hearing the crash, looking back at the illuminated nock tipping the arrow that now was 6 inches deep in the ground and then realizing I hadn’t taken a breath in what seemed like an eternity; as I gasped for air and managed to get my bow hung back up the uncontrollable shaking began to take over my entire body.
Obviously after sending out some text updates to Pops and others I began trying to decide what the plan was for tracking. Having not seen him go down, only hearing the crash, I knew I didn’t want to force the track too soon. If that crash was in fact the suspected end of his life, he wasn’t going to go anywhere.
I’ve always lived by a rule that even if I know I 10 ringed a deer, if they don’t fall in sight an hour minimum must pass before taking up the trail. So there I sat with over an hour still left of legal light even…and in need of forcing myself to wait to track the biggest buck of my life. I managed to wait till Pops got there, he actually cut his hunt short even that evening, which was well after legal light had passed.
THE WORST BLOOD TRAIL EVER
It was probably 2 hours after the shot before we checked the arrow. Blood on the whole thing looked awesome and the dark red blood backed what I suspected the shot had done. The slightly quartering to angle made me think I’d most likely passed through one lung and then exited out opposite liver…with the chance I’d clipped the very back of the opposite lung as well. The dark blood and smell seemed to confirm the suspected exit had hit liver.
Great blood at impact, we decide to head up to the corner of that thick island I know he veered East at. Noticing no blood till that point we began to search all over at this spot and could find zero blood. Looking a few yards more in the direction I knew he went, no blood.
Now being color blind it does take me a lot longer to find blood, but Pops has blood eyes like a hound has with its nose and he wasn’t finding a drop either. We literally began following his actual hoof tracks…about 45 yards from impact we find a speck of blood…about 15 yards later one more speck…we found we thought was one more speck before we found ourselves just passed the pond on the property and about where the trail makes a Y. This was the spot from the stand I envisioned was the location of the crash, so we begin scanning both sides of the trail, each branch of the ‘Y’ and the section between the two trail options. Seeing nothing we begin following his tracks until we reach the ground at the ‘Y’.
We were unable to locate tracks in either direction so I motioned to Pops to take the right trail and I’d take the left…I take two steps and the beam of my light falls on a deer’s nose!!!
Cicero was laying mere feet from us! No tracks could be found in either direction because there he lay right in between them smashed up into some saplings (white belly facing away). Our lights had scanned his very spot numerous times just 35 yards back.
Tears, hugs and pure shock ensued for a long long time…and honestly it hasn’t truly passed. Not in a MILLION years did I think in Indiana I’d down a buck that grossed even close to what Cicero ended up going….which in the end doesn’t matter. The fact he was mature, proved all my blood and sweat equity had worked and sharing the recovery with Pops are better than any measurement!!!!
Sorry for the long read, but I know I promised many I would put this all in writing, as some of you prefer a written story than watching the video of him or listening to the podcast version that occurred.
God bless and in all honesty I pray each and every one of you have the buck of your dreams walk out this year!
The Hunt For Cicero
To start the discussion of the October 5th, 2018 hunt we have to rewind for a just a quick minute to March of 2016. I had just closed on my very own slice of God’s creation in Indiana. This was something I NEVER thought would have occurred when it did, and truly had given up on having my own piece of ground till well into my 40s or 50s.
There I was however with the deed to a little over 22 acres to call my own. It wasn’t what many would consider prime ground (if it was I wouldn’t own it), however I was ready to make it my own. Now two and a half years later with a long list of habitat items to do yet I’ve been blessed with two bucks, one of which I doubt I’ll ever top again.
Cicero was a buck that was barely on our radar in 2016 and 2017. He swung by a few times on camera during the season…but only in the darkest cover of the night. It was this factor I never gave him much thought or wasted time naming him as Pops and I wouldn’t be talking about him.
Well this year he showed up on velvet in mid-July, and as far as antler growth was concerned he was well ahead of every single other buck. I can remember even texting a friend of mine much more experienced in massive bucks if I was kidding myself to imagine I have an actual booner or close to it using the place. We both figured he was an early and quick grower, but definitely could have that potential.
Once velvet started dropping I assumed like all the other years he’d disappear and only appear every now and then, however his appearances on camera became more regular and his use of the property more often. By mid-September it became very clear he not only was utilizing the property regularly, he was using the bedding on the property and/or the ones immediately beside it nearly 3-6 times a week.
The plan was to not move in on Cicero unless EVERYTHING pointed towards extremely high chance of success…the biggest thing needed would be an Easterly wind. The stand I knew I had the greatest chance hung along an overgrown fence row near the western edge of the property. It was actually the same stand I shot the first buck off my property back in 2016, and overlooks a clover/chicory plot speckled with pockets of wild raspberry thickets and sapling islands. This winding and mess of a plot is actually called the Fruit Plot, as it has quite a few apple and pear trees planted both of the last couple seasons.
The plot itself was just one reason the stand is arguably the best on the property. The biggest reason is that it is situated on the west side of a portion of this plot, and on all the other 3 sides are bedding no farther than 40-65 yards from the stand. To the North, East and West all had viable and regularly used bedding cover…the spot with an East wind was and is KILLER (pun intended).
However, as any fellow Hoosier from the Michiana (Michigan/Indiana area) knows we simply don’t get easterly type winds often…so when the forecast came out for the weather shift hitting us October 4th I started paying attention to everything, despite it being so early in the season.
The evening of the 4th was when I wanted to be up a tree….the storm front would have just moved through which included not only rain, but a pretty substantial temperature swing in the downward direction. Mixed with this was a predominate wind shift, but it didn’t swing until the 5th and it was that day the magical “E” showed up in the wind prediction and called for a steady ESE wind all day.
However, those were not the only factors I was paying attention to. Barometric pressure due to front was swinging, the moon in the dark phase just days from a new one with underfoot being approximately 5:44PM on October 5th…these and many other factors all were lining up and pointing towards ambushing Cicero (or one of the other mature bucks) earlier in the season than I normally would go in.
It would have been impossible to live with myself had I not hunted that night with everything aligning for movement, so the plan was set, I was hunting for Cicero the 5th.
THE DAY OF THE HUNT
When the morning of the 5th came around I still remember checking my Weather Underground app before work and incessantly throughout the morning. Any sign of winds not being easterly meant no hunting for Cicero, luckily midday all looked good and I headed home to shower and leave.
The entrance to the set-up is one of the shorter ones on the property, but not easy to slip in undetected due to how close the bedding was. The rain from overnight and morning drizzle had everything quiet though…which was awesome for entrance/exit but not for filming. So for the first time in years the full camera set up would stay at the truck and I’d hit the tree with no real plan of filming taking a priority, this was both a relief and a worry (I just knew something was going to happen).
Slipping away from the truck the first 100 yard or so walk is through an overgrown abandoned yard of sorts that neighborhood kids used as a dirt track a long time ago, so lots of low quality forage and grasses attempting life call that space home. I say this because while overgrown and bedding in it is an option, more often than not this sparsely populated space of scrub grasses and shrubs is void of action.
Getting through the overgrown field was a slow process but one which zero deer were alerted, chalk that up as a success. Now for the biggest task…getting over the old barb wire fence 20 yards from the stand, up the stand and set up, all within known beds less than 40 to 50 yards away. The wind was blowing more straight E than ESE as I crossed the fence, chalk up another success. I estimate it took approximately 20 minutes to make that 20 yard walk, climb, gear hung and arrow nocked; however no deer blew or could be heard leaving the area, chalk up another success.
At this point I texted the wife and Pops a “uts” text (what we do to say ‘up tree safe’) and texted a friend a text saying it isn’t a matter IF a shooter is close it is a matter of if they choose to hit this spot and that scrape. That scrape was one Cicero had been visiting at all hours since about September 1st on his way to bed in the mornings, during the day during feedings or at night after getting up and out of his bed.
It felt right, which most likely meant nothing would move…and nothing did move. It was dead quiet. Not even a groundhog or squirrel offered entertainment and the birds seemed to be hushed as well.
Pops texted me a little after 6PM “Sure thought they would be moving…” to which I responded “Nothing here either yet.”
The time stamp on that text is mere minutes before I see movement over my back left shoulder. You see there is a trail leading towards the stand that then sweeps angling slightly SE from its main North to South orientation towards the stand. Up that trail and to its North and East side of it was bedding cover Cicero loved to use and was a suspected spot he would be likely to come from. With an ESE wind he could enter the plot wind in his favor and my wind just missing him…which is precisely what occurred.
Let me back up just a tick though, after I texted Pops but prior to seeing movement, a dear friend of mine popped into my mind (one met on bowhunting.com forums actually) that had recently come through some rather serious cancer issues. As I set there I was kind of flooded with how amazing it was just the blessing to hunt and bowed my head to say a quick prayer of continued health and recovery for my friend but also of thankfulness for my health and ability to be doing precisely what I love.
As I raised my head and opened my eyes I remembering hearing a twig snap directly behind me and to the north. Unable to see behind the tree through the thicket of briars and brambles I waited…and waited…then little closer I heard an overhead branch disturbed by a scrape behind me. At this point excitement grew as I knew it had to be a buck…calming my mind and nerves I tell myself it is probably one of the yearlings.
Few minutes go by and nothing…then I catch it. The slight movement of antler over my left shoulder behind me and at where the trail dumps out into the secluded plot. Peering back through the thick cover of oak leaves I see the deer step out into the clover more and begin eating mouths fool of clover. Unable to see which buck it is I just keep watching. As his mouth reaches full capacity, clover actually sticking out, he raises his head and it lands in a gap in the leaves. To this day I still bet I gasp…luckily not loud enough for him to hear as I realized it was Cicero. His split G2 on his right side stuck out like a sore thumb wrapped in gauze and I immediately tried all I could to not look at his antlers again. He was the biggest buck I’d ever seen on hoof, and he was under 15 yards away.
What is about to be expressed I’m a little embarrassed I even considered, but feel the decision not to do it is worth its inclusion in the story. As I sat there unable to shoot with this deer at a mere 12-15 yards feeding I noticed a small hole in the oak leaves. Now the longer Cicero fed, he began to slightly angle to the NE and away from me…if he did this and chose that direction he would never present a shot and ultimately head above the pond and over to the other side of the property entirely. As he did this he edged his way towards a small opening (volleyball size at best…probably closer to a softball)…I grabbed my bow and remember thinking to myself “I can make that shot.” Well in order to even get into position I had to draw my bow facing forward…and then turn and slightly maneuver the bow at full draw through a vine hanging down and a lower limb. Getting into position I could feel the vine pressing against my grip and sight, the lower cam was very close to a branch. What in God’s name are you thinking…and as Cicero fed through the tiny window, I navigated back out and turned to the front of the stand. I was not going to take a shot that went against everything logical and ethical that I as a hunter preach.
Now facing forward I had to let the bow down without the arrow rattling off the rest even slightly…I have never wanted a whisker biscuit more than in that moment. I let the bow down and the arrow slid off the rest just one time and made that seemingly loud “tick” noise before my finger grabbed it. With my eyes closed I prayed he didn’t hear.
Slowly opening my eyes and looking back through the oak leaves I saw him head up and looking away to the East…big root of a clover stem sticking out of his mouth. I watched as his angle was taking him around the island thicket in the plot on off to the East, my chance was not to occur.
THE CHANCE
He stopped however.
He turned.
He is began coming down the plot all seemingly in less than a second, almost like something had caught his attention or he wanted to hit that scrape down to his South (my SE). As he neared the edge of the cover he was going to step out right at 16 yards and be broadside…and he stopped.
He turned.
He then headed to an apple tree I had fenced around and proceeded to gobble a couple leaves off of it.
Then yet again he stopped though.
He turned.
Now he was at the point of breaking cover, so I draw…he steps…I can see his neck, shoulder…
He stops.
He turns and half behind cover and half exposed walks directly towards the stand. You see along the edge of the tree line I was tucked in (about 9-12 yards away) we disced up a portion of the clover/chicory and planted oats and heavy chicory around September 1st. He reached this strip and head down began gorging himself again.
At full draw still I could see the top of his body, neck and head when he raised it…but sitting down I could not shoot to the vitals. It was at this moment I decided if I slowly rose up I know I could squeeze a shot off, as I did not want to continue holding longer and start shaking.
I slowly rise up….notice he is quartering to me slightly, and pause till his closest foot comes back down opening up the vitals a tick more and slowly squeeze…
He peels off to the NE, around that island of cover in the plot, and runs East above the pond as I suspected he was going to head towards moments earlier.
Just around 13 seconds pass (camera captured shot, not the deer on screen) and the loud crash happens.
I’ve never been one to really get the shakes in the moment when a shot is commencing on a buck…however those moments that follow the shot are intense.
I can remember hearing the crash, looking back at the illuminated nock tipping the arrow that now was 6 inches deep in the ground and then realizing I hadn’t taken a breath in what seemed like an eternity; as I gasped for air and managed to get my bow hung back up the uncontrollable shaking began to take over my entire body.
Obviously after sending out some text updates to Pops and others I began trying to decide what the plan was for tracking. Having not seen him go down, only hearing the crash, I knew I didn’t want to force the track too soon. If that crash was in fact the suspected end of his life, he wasn’t going to go anywhere.
I’ve always lived by a rule that even if I know I 10 ringed a deer, if they don’t fall in sight an hour minimum must pass before taking up the trail. So there I sat with over an hour still left of legal light even…and in need of forcing myself to wait to track the biggest buck of my life. I managed to wait till Pops got there, he actually cut his hunt short even that evening, which was well after legal light had passed.
THE WORST BLOOD TRAIL EVER
It was probably 2 hours after the shot before we checked the arrow. Blood on the whole thing looked awesome and the dark red blood backed what I suspected the shot had done. The slightly quartering to angle made me think I’d most likely passed through one lung and then exited out opposite liver…with the chance I’d clipped the very back of the opposite lung as well. The dark blood and smell seemed to confirm the suspected exit had hit liver.
Great blood at impact, we decide to head up to the corner of that thick island I know he veered East at. Noticing no blood till that point we began to search all over at this spot and could find zero blood. Looking a few yards more in the direction I knew he went, no blood.
Now being color blind it does take me a lot longer to find blood, but Pops has blood eyes like a hound has with its nose and he wasn’t finding a drop either. We literally began following his actual hoof tracks…about 45 yards from impact we find a speck of blood…about 15 yards later one more speck…we found we thought was one more speck before we found ourselves just passed the pond on the property and about where the trail makes a Y. This was the spot from the stand I envisioned was the location of the crash, so we begin scanning both sides of the trail, each branch of the ‘Y’ and the section between the two trail options. Seeing nothing we begin following his tracks until we reach the ground at the ‘Y’.
We were unable to locate tracks in either direction so I motioned to Pops to take the right trail and I’d take the left…I take two steps and the beam of my light falls on a deer’s nose!!!
Cicero was laying mere feet from us! No tracks could be found in either direction because there he lay right in between them smashed up into some saplings (white belly facing away). Our lights had scanned his very spot numerous times just 35 yards back.
Tears, hugs and pure shock ensued for a long long time…and honestly it hasn’t truly passed. Not in a MILLION years did I think in Indiana I’d down a buck that grossed even close to what Cicero ended up going….which in the end doesn’t matter. The fact he was mature, proved all my blood and sweat equity had worked and sharing the recovery with Pops are better than any measurement!!!!
Sorry for the long read, but I know I promised many I would put this all in writing, as some of you prefer a written story than watching the video of him or listening to the podcast version that occurred.
God bless and in all honesty I pray each and every one of you have the buck of your dreams walk out this year!
