Suckers! When I shut this machine off, within minutes, I drive to town for a nice greasy fast-food chicken lunch, then an hour into the mountains, strap on the 50# duffel bag lashed to the meat frame-pack ... and away I go for a few days. This ain't the Big Backpack Hunt, which comes in mid Sept., but just an opening weekend tune-up. For the first time in 13 years I'm not meat hunting this year, but "trophy" hunting. Which means it has to be bigger than the Biggie I got back in '94. This is a good ploy to allow me to hunt through the entire season. Your turns will come, but mine is NOW! Think of me tonight, up there at 10,000' camped alone in a tiny hidden meadow with a tiny creek gurgling by, bourbon-and-branch in hand, bears rustling off in the dark woods, maybe an early bugle or two. Ho!