It all started back in 1964. I studied deer behavior from my crib and at the ripe old age of one. I brought home my first deer. I'm the one with my hand in my mouth. I didn't read the regs very well so I missed the part about killing the deer.
During the spring and summer months. I spent some time on the racing circuit but soon infighting with the pit crew brought an end to that. That's me in the lead car
I would spend the fall and winters on the Northern range hunting deer. I'm the one in the middle with the brown hat.
As time passed. It was getting a bit crowded on the farm.
I mean REALLY crowded. (far right)
It was time to branch out on my own and live off the land. (and whatever I could carry in a brown paper bag.)
I met up with a couple of fur traders and we made our way West to settle new frontiers. (center)
I got in with a bad crowd and did a bit of partying.
I raised a little too much hell and had to lay low for a while.
Last Edit: Jun 30, 2011 16:29:50 GMT -6 by Ron Kulas