In 1971, I skipped school to go deer hunting with my uncle.I remember my uncle George and I dragging my Grandfather's last big buck up one of the steepest side hills along the canyon. Going down was a sheer drop, so out of the question. While Grandfather stood on top watching us, George said "Maybe we should cut the horns off and leave the deer here"
We both got laughing enough to almost lose our grip on the deer.
