The Flying Kayak

Hunting, Fishing, Rambling, and Complete Outdoor Hilarity

Year: 2015 (page 1 of 4)

A Very Floridian Blizzard

“Dude I’m fixin to die. We gotta crank that AC”, I told my roommate as we sped away in his car on the way to the airport. “I’m melting”

It certainly wasn’t that hot outside. Especially for Florida. The problem? I wouldn’t be in Florida long, and I was decked from head to toe in winter clothes for the mountains. I was on my way to R & R Ranch in Colorado for the 2016 Elk hunting season to guide. Rather than try and shove all of my winter clothes into my carry on, I opted to just wear half of it. A decision that I was regretting at that very moment in time.

Cold weather hunting boots, thick wool socks, long johns, jeans, a fleece jacket, hunting backpack, and gun case in tow, I sorta stood out like a sore thumb upon arriving at Ft. Lauderdale airport. I’d once again drawn an elk tag this year. After failing to fill my tag during last year’s season, I was excited to give it another go. I’d be arriving just a little bit later in the year which meant more favorable weather and with any luck, better hunting.

With all my information ready, I walked up to the United Airlines counter to get my boarding pass and brace myself for what would surely be an unnecessarily difficult task of checking my rifle in with TSA. I showed the woman my information for my 11:15 departure flight and she began busily typing away before finally responding.


“I’m sorry? Hmm? Everything ok?”, I asked, beginning to get slightly nervous.

“Yeahh….But you missed your flight”

In a state of wild confusion, I glanced at the time on my phone. 10:00.

“But…It’s only ten…”

“Yeahh…Your flight was actually rescheduled. It leaves in 5 minutes. You already missed boarding.”

“Wait…I was never notified of a schedule change…”

“Yeah…There should have been an email sent. But I’m sorry. You’ll need to get in contact with your connecting flight’s airlines to sort it out.”

Great. Fantastic. My plan HAD been to fly from Ft. Lauderdale to Orlando. Orlando to Denver. Denver to Hayden. Then drive from Hayden to the ranch. Now there was a massive wrench in my gears. I quickly got hold of the ranch and explained my situation. The best solution we could think of was to try and rent a car and haul ass to Orlando. It was 10:30 and I needed to be ready to go in Orlando airport at 1:30.

Challenge. Accepted.

Still wearing all my hunting gear and dragging a gun, I practically ran to the car rental area of the airport. During my last trip out west, I rented a car for the first time ever from National, and it was cheap. So I made my way to their counter. Sweating, I told the guy behind the desk that I needed a one way rental to Orlando and quick. Miraculously, it was quite possibly the easiest process I’ve ever gone through in my life. within about 45 seconds he handed me back my credit card and the slip to get into a car. It was that easy. I gathered my stuff and just before I made it through the door to the parking garage, the man noticed my bright orange hat.

“Colorado huh? Skiing?”

“Nope!”, I replied over my shoulder. “Elk hunting!”

The man let out a gasp. “Poor Elk”. Then he paused after I assume he saw the look on my face. “I mean…Good luck!”

Not having the time to even get into a conversation with the man, I thanked him and walked through the door into the parking garage. I was holding a slip of paper with some illegible writing on it that was supposed to point me in the direction of my car. Not knowing what I was doing or where I was going, I wandered over to the first person I could find with a green National vest on. She was an absolutely ENORMOUS black woman.

“Excuse me”, I began with a chuckle. “I’m…Totally lost” I handed her the slip of paper and she glanced over it.

“Mmmhmm…Mmmhmmm…Full size…Mmhmmm…Orlando….Okay baby I got you”, she responded. “Follow me”

“So you got a choice of the Malibu…The Taurus…” she continued, pointing to each as we strode through the garage. “Or…”, she cut herself off as a Black Dodge Charger backed into a spot in front of us. “The Charger”

I gave her a giant shit-eating grin as the car finished parking.

“OOooo boy I know which one you gonna take!”, she laughed. “Key’s in the car. Thanks for choosing National”.

Thankfully my gun case fit like a glove in the back seat. And within just a minute, I had escaped the confines of the parking garage and was on the interstate heading toward Orlando. I was tight on time and there was no way I was about to miss my next (and arguably most important) flight. So  I stepped on the gas a little. I should note that I’ve never really even driven a moderately fast car, so I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the ride. I even slowed down long enough to take a quick picture.

Sorry Mom

Sorry Mom

I made it to Orlando airport in about 23 minutes.

Once there, I gave the car back to National and made my way into the airport. While standing in line, I actually ran into several of my hunters from last year. They’re all from around the Gainesville area and were on their way back again to hunt with me. It only took about a decade for someone to come check my gun in, and FINALLY, after an insanely long morning/process, I made it through security and was happily sitting at my gate, ready to board.


The flight to Denver wasn’t particularly exciting. Which is a good thing in my opinion. A brutally boring and excitement free flight is exactly what I want. And after what seemed like an eternity, we landed safely in Denver. It turned out that one of the other guides, Cody, was sitting right in front of me during the flight, and upon landing I unbuckled and let out a groan as I stretched.

“One more flight, then a drive and we’re finally there”, I told Cody. And it was just then that I caught the eye of one of my hunter’s, Ed, a few seats away.

“Our flight to Hayden is cancelled”, said Ed, over the seats.

“Bullshit!”, I responded, possibly a little too loud since half the plane turned to look at me.

“Yep…snow. Next flight doesn’t leave until tomorrow.”

No. Freakin. Way.

After the whole process, after traveling almost all day and over halfway across the country, here I sat. Once again, stuck. I soon grabbed my bag from overhead and filed out into the terminal where I met the other hunters. Everyone was busily discussing what to do when Cody and I walked up. Some said we should stay the night. Others argued that the weather might get worse, and we’d be stuck even longer. Some said to rent a car and drive. Others argued it’d take two cars to fit 8 people total (which was how many we had). Regardless, I wasn’t getting my gun into at least the next day at the earliest. The discussion seemed to go on and on before finally I spoke up. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s indecision.

“We don’t know if the weather will get any worse, it’s alright right now. Let’s rent two SUV’s, load up everything and just go. Sound good?”

Everyone seemed to nod in agreement, and then came the decision who should drive. One of our hunters happens to be a truck driver, so it was a given that he’d take the wheel of one of the two SUV’s. The other? There were no takers. Considering I practically drive for a living anyway, and no one else was willing, I offered to take the wheel of the second SUV.  Being a Florida boy, I’d never driven in snow before…But how hard could it be?

The drive out of Denver wasn’t particularly bad. The Explorer we were in handled alright, it was just slightly windy, especially in certain passes as we climbed higher and higher into the mountains. We made a stop in Silverthorne to eat at a Wendy’s and it was about that time I was thankful for wearing all my winter clothes. The temperature was dropping. Fast. Where only 10 hours prior I had been sweating to death in Ft. Lauderdale, I was now almost shivering in the mountains. After dinner we continued on, and it wasn’t long after we left Silverthorne that it began to snow. Hard.

I noticed that everyone in Colorado was still driving like a bat out of hell in the snow. Didn’t matter how horribly steep the road was, they were still flying. Hell, I was just doing my best to keep up with our other hunters in the car ahead of us. Just when I thought it couldn’t snow harder, it did. Then harder. Then even harder.

IMG_1385I was slowly getting more and more nervous as the weather worsened. Tires began to slide and I was having a terrible time. Our path down I-70 actually led straight through the town of Vail Colorado. Having the last name Vail, I’d always wanted to visit the place. Just for kicks. Well…I got to drive through Vail, but I never saw it. Total white out. The best I got was an interstate sign that read “Vail Next 3 Exits”. And that’s it.

We got off the interstate in Rifle and began our trek north toward the ranch. The weather simply continued to worsen. Soon there were only two cars to be seen driving down any of the roads, and both were packed full of Florida boys. The old county road leading to the ranch was probably where we saw the worst weather. At some points the car in front of us completely disappeared and they were only about 30 feet ahead. I actually began to worry that even if we -did- manage to make it to the ranch, we’d never recognize it. EVERYTHING was white and even roads leading off the highway were masked in the white nightmare outside.

Thankfully someone managed to get enough signal to make a phone call to the ranch owner who was able to drive down to the highway and wait so we’d recognize the road. We all met, then drove the last few miles to the ranch.

I was completely and totally exhausted. My hands actually hurt from the white knuckle grip I’d kept the whole ride. We finally made the turn into the 4 mile long driveway to finish the trip. We’d left Denver at what 8:30 on what was supposed to be a 4.5 hour drive. It was now 5 am the next day. With the ranch owner in front, the other hunters second in line, and myself and my hunters bringing up the rear, we approached the ranch house. Just a few hundred more yards to go, when suddenly….

The car in front of us hit a huge snow drift and drove right off the road….

We were so close. So damn close to calling it a day. Everyone bailed out and the other two cars set about getting the hunters and gear out of the stuck SUV and into the two remaining cars. We’d worry about the stuck one in the morning. Or later in the day. Or whatever. I was too tired to think.


After finally getting into the house, I met more hunters. We were actually so late on arriving that they were already getting up to go make a hunt. I said hey to everyone, dropped my gear, and sorta zombied my way around the lodge. I was too tired to think, and actually too tired to sleep. I’d pounded an energy drink during the ride, and it was apparently still working. I ate some breakfast and watched as the sun began to rise along the horizon. The storm had finally passed.


Soon after I made my way to my bunk, and passed out cold. We’d made it. Elk season 2015 was a go, and I was absolutely pumped to get out there after them…

Just a little bit later…you know…after I sleep a bit.


*Stay tuned…More of this incredible season to come!*


*Blows dust off of the keyboard*

Geeze, it’s been a little bit since my last post. Time flies when you’re having fun I suppose. Work has been…Busy…To say the least. But I did get back from my time guiding in Colorado recently! I’ve got a ton of stories to write about from this season, and I can’t wait to share. Stay tuned!


Rant Mode : Engage

The dining room of the old restaurant was relatively quiet during this particular lunch hour. Aside from the occasional clanking of silverware as patrons enjoyed their meals, the only real noise was the conversation being discussed by a group of nine at a table in the corner of the room. I, of course, was present at this table, but I had respectfully checked out of the conversation a few minutes prior.

“I just don’t think anyone should have them”, said a tall blonde teenager from Denmark as she sipped her Coke. “In our country, it’s much different”

“I agree”, spouted another woman, this one from Ohio. “It would make things -much- safer here”

And as if they could already tell I wanted nothing to do with the conversation, the father of the teenager turned to me and asked, “What about you Alex? What do you think about guns?”

Aw hell no…I’m not fixin to get into it with my guests. No way. Not today…

“I…will…bow outta this one”, I replied with a chuckle.

“Ahh, that’s right!”, he added. “You’re a hunter. But com’on, why not tell us?”

And without missing a beat, mid-chew of my sandwich, I fired back, “Because I like getting tipped at the end of the day”.

Everyone around the table busted out laughing and it was then that the woman from Ohio added to the group, “I just don’t know why someone -needs- an assault rifle? It makes no sense”

The whole table, including the German couple across from me (who’d been relatively quiet this whole conversation) nodded in agreement as they tore away at their lunch. But myself? I couldn’t really take it anymore. I had to say -something-

Just as the mother from the Denmark family was getting ready to say something else about guns, I lifted my finger while finishing my last bite and said “hold on…”

Suddenly, if the restaurant could have been any quieter, it would’ve had to be in deep space. It was absolutely silent as everyone looked at me, awaiting my response.

“Why do I -need- an assault rifle?”, I began as I looked around the table at my guests before finally locking eyes with the woman from Ohio. “May I answer your question with a question?”

She simply smiled and said “Of course”

“Back home in Ohio, the car that’s sitting in your driveway…Whatever kinda car it might be…How fast does its speedometer go?”, I asked.

“Umm…I’m not sure”, she began, glancing over at her husband with a shrug”. “Maybe like 120?”

“Okay”, I continued. “So tell me, why do you NEED a car that can go 120mph when the highest posted speed limit around you is only 70mph?”

She sat in silence, thinking about it for just a moment before answering, “Well….that’s different”.

“No…No it isn’t. You do not NEED a car that can go that fast. You WANT a car that can go that fast. Just as I do not NEED an assault rifle. I WANT one. The issue isn’t with the ‘weapon’, the issue boils down to the person and their intent.”

I looked around at my table as they quietly thought it over before continuing and pointing out to the 12 passenger van in the parking lot.

“Take a look at the van out there we’ve been riding in all day. I guarantee you, with evil intent, someone could cause just as much -if not more- damage in that big ol’ thing, than they could with my SKS and a 20 round magazine. If someone wants to go crazy and hurt a lot of people, they’ll find a way. Regardless of the ‘weapon’ involved”.

I could go deeper into the conversation, but I’ll save everyone from reading through that. I’d basically made my point. I did, however, later go in to explain in better detail my feelings toward gun control. And I should give the reader a full heads up; Rant mode – Engage.

There are an infuriatingly large amount of people out there that spout the same garbage about assault weapons and gun control. Most of these people know little, to nothing, about firearms aside from what the media tells them. “Guns are bad, guns are behind these massacres, guns are whatever“. So they end up believing and trying to push restrictions on something that not only does someone WANT to own, but it is their RIGHT to own. And before anyone starts spewing the usual crap about “rights” and how much firearms have changed since those rights were established, let’s not forget that when those rights -were- established, the whole musket and bayonet thing was cutting edge technology. The same thing the military was using. The same way our ‘assault’ rifles are cutting edge technology.

Speaking of ‘assault’ rifles (and pointing the finger at the other side for a moment)…Fellow Gun guys, can we please stop correcting people and the term “assault” weapon. Yes, I know, the assault weapons ban was horseshit. Yes, I know they hold onto that term every time they talk about gun control, so it’s alright to be bothered by the term when it’s used by some politician. But for simple table conversation with your average Joe, you and he both know what’s meant by “assault” rifle. There’s no need to explain how that weapon has never, nor will ever, be used to “assault” someone. I swear to God if I see another one of those stupid posts online about how “I left my gun alone at home all day and it didn’t assault anyone”, I’m going to vomit. We know. Everyone knows.


So can we all please be real with one another? For like three seconds? And realize the actual issue here?

PEOPLE! PEOPLE ARE THE ISSUE! SWEET CHRIST IS IT THAT HARD TO SEE?? Take any of these massacres that have happened. School shootings, movie theaters, whatever. Take a look at the gunman….IT’S NOT LIKE NO ONE SAW IT COMING.

I’m not sure why exactly, but for some reason our society has felt the urge to completely and totally overlook or ignore mental illness. At best we medicate, then probably over-medicate. Is it because it’s not a physical ailment? We can’t see it so…Here’s some pills…It’ll make you feel better? Or is it that we’re afraid to tell a parent “Sorry…Little Billy’s got a couple screws loose” and instead we just give him a few pills to make him “Normal”. Well what happens when he stops taking said pills? I personally don’t know what needs to be done to address mental illness and instability, but we’ve got to start doing something better than what we’ve been doing. And for those people who -know- an individual could be mentally unstable, it’s their responsibility to monitor and make sure they don’t just have firearms laying around the house for easy access.

But Alex, what about the religious crazies?

I’m so glad you asked…

We happen to live in a pretty sweet country where we’re free to worship whatever God or deity we choose. It doesn’t matter if you want to worship God, or the Sun, or Tom Cruise, or -whatever-, you’re free to do so as long as it’s not hurting anyone else. However, one of the most dangerous things in the world is a person (or people) who are willing to harm others in the name of their religion. I doesn’t matter whether or not they’re Christian, Muslim, Jewish, whatever. The moment someone becomes a religious fanatic and willing to take another life for their religion, they’re an absolute danger to society. Lock em up. I realize it’s difficult to point out, especially since religious preferences are often secretive or not publicly voiced, but there’s a good chance -someone- out there knows about it. Speak up.

All of this “harm” I’m talking about is, of course, related to firearms. Let’s all not forget there’s more than one way to skin a cat. Remove a crazy person’s ability to access firearms and they’ll still find a way to cause harm be it a bomb, or a vehicle, or whatever. It still boils down to the person and their intent.

So what about the rest of us? Those of us who aren’t, in fact, evil? There’s gun related accidents year round, right? I’m all for better education prior to purchasing a firearm. In order for most of us to hunt (depending on where you live), you have to pass a hunter education safety course. During this course students learn the basic fundamentals of firearms and their safe handling. I personally don’t think it would be unnecessary to require someone pass a similar test before purchasing a firearm. I’ve seen guys at the gun range who’ve shown little to no knowledge of how to safely handle their gun. And gun safety isn’t very hard to learn, or even teach for that matter.

There are a shocking amount of people out there who simply know nothing about guns. The only thing they do know? Whatever’s been spit at them from the media: Guns are dangerous. I’ve taken several people shooting for their first time and almost every time they pick up that pistol or rifle for their first time, the initial reaction is the same: Fear. Why is that? It’s so bothersome to me. Is it because it goes *Bang*? Is it because people have been killed by them before? Or is it just a twinge of fear because it’s something completely foreign? It bothers me to no end that this same person who’s terrified of a gun in THEIR OWN HANDS, is the same person who will step onto an airplane without thinking twice, or eat a meal cooked by a total stranger, and be totally OK with it. What should you be more afraid of? I don’t blame the person at all. I blame society and how it’s all been portrayed. It’s frustrating beyond all belief.

And speaking of frustration, let’s dive into a whole new can of rage-inducing worms. Shall we?


Trophy Hunting


Oh here we go. Unless you literally live under a rock, I’m sure you’ve heard or read some sort of news blurb about some guy killing a lion, or rhino, or elephant, or whatever. Then, inevitably, there’s a massive backlash of people ranting a raving about how horrible this individual is for killing this animal. So on, and so forth.

I won’t be naming any specific cases here. At all. Primarily because I see one of these articles pop up on Facebook, and immediately know it’s just going to piss me off. Not because of the hunter, but because of the absolute stupidity and ignorance that gets spewed from those opposed to the act. So I pretty much -never- read the articles.

So here’s the breakdown. Guy goes to Africa. Pays a ranch or preserve to go out and hunt whatever animal it is (big $$$ mind you). Downs his animal. Then posts the pictures of it online where the masses can start screaming “off with his head”. He does everything legally and by the books (remember I’m not pointing out specific events, just as a whole). So what’s the problem? Why do people get so upset?

I get it. I really do. No one -likes- to see a lion or elephant get killed. In a perfect world, I’d be totally fine if they weren’t EVER hunted by us. But we don’t live in a perfect world now do we? Sadly, harvesting these animals on occasion is necessary. But Alex, why? Why does someone -need- to kill a Lion? How would they like it if -they- were the ones being hunted? Why should any animal like that die by the hands of a hunter? Why?

Again, I’ll have to answer a question with a question: What makes the world go ’round?

Money. Money makes the world go ’round. Argue with me please if I’m wrong. But it’s a sad reality. Money gets things done. Money makes everything go tick. Unfortunately when it comes to species conservation, money is the primary driving factor. Everything costs money. When a hunter goes on a legal hunt (especially over in Africa), he’s paying big bucks. A -lot- of that money is going directly to that preserve or ranch in the form of species conservation. The ranch has to pay taxes, or requires more land for its animals, or needs things burned or mowed or -whatever-. The ranch needs money. And why do we need the ranch or preserve? For things like poachers, or urbanization. That rhino is probably not going to exist if there weren’t people out there protecting them from poachers. That lion certainly isn’t going to be doing all that well if its habitat is paved over. We need these ranches and preserves. And what keeps them going?

Money. Money from hunts. I know. It sucks. It’s a pretty terrible thing that -this- is how we have to try and protect these species, but do you have a better idea? Where’s the money going to come from?

So again, rich guy goes out and kills his trophy, posts his picture online, and Sally Two-Cents on Facebook goes absolutely ape-shit on this guy and is screaming for his head. Well, here’s where I have a MASSIVE problem with Sally Two-Cents.

Dear Sally,

I know seeing that dead Lion is upsetting. I realize it probably wasn’t what you were hoping to see while you scrolled through your Facebook news feed and waded through the incessant baby and engagement pictures. I also know that you now want to kill this hunter, and the nasty comment you left on this stranger’s picture has 1367 ‘likes’ from other drones like yourself. But I’m writing you to ask a very simple question. How much money have you put forth for species conservation this year? Since you seem to be against this type of hunting, how much money from you wallet have you donated for the preservation of Lions? Now think about how much this man who shot a lion has given to conservation. (He paid approximately $30,000 just to pull the trigger, FYI). So please forgive me for my wild assumption here, but I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’ve contributed a whopping 0$ to this species and its conservation. So I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Sally, but…

YOU DON’T GET A SAY! Until you fork over as much, if not more money as someone else, you have no right to be upset. The day that you, or an organization -does-, then by all means, don’t kill that lion. At that point you will have proven that you do, in fact, care about this animal and its species’ future. But until that time, please shut up. You bitching about this is no different than if I started ranting all about Obama after I didn’t actually vote in the first place. No difference whatsoever. So please keep your outrage to yourself until you decide to step up.


Someone who’s sick of reading your crap

I could probably go on, but I won’t. Just know that it’s kind of a sad reality, but a reality none the less. And it’s upsetting to see just how many people know nothing about how the world works in this aspect.

Now then…What’s next…

*Casually flips through a list of topics that induces high blood pressure*

Political Correctness.

*Steps away from the computer for six days in a fit of rage*

Those two words. Those two words sum up what is, in my opinion, the biggest issue with our society today. Our PC culture has become so sensitive to anything and everything that it’s nearly impossible to say or do anything without -someone- getting butthurt. It’s completely and totally insane. Everyone’s suddenly offended by everything. Actually, you know what it probably is? It might not be that people are more easily offended, it’s that suddenly I’m supposed to not only acknowledge you’re upset, but also CARE. I don’t care. The world doesn’t care. The rebel flag flying in my neighbor’s yard? If you don’t like it, don’t look at it or fly one yourself. That gay couple down the street that just got hitched? If you don’t like it, don’t marry a gay guy. Just mind your own damn business. Worry about yourself for a change. Do people really have nothing better to do than to get upset or offended about what some sports commentator said on ESPN, or that kids say the pledge every morning in school? Toughen up. The world’s not about to stop spinning just because your feelings got hurt. You’ve every right in the world to call a black guy African American, or a Christmas Tree a Holiday Tree. But don’t think for a second that I, or anyone else, has to as well just because certain terms offend you. Get over yourself.


I passionately wanted to rage about several other things in this post, but I honestly feel myself beginning to stroke out. I’ve developed an anger fueled twitch and typing is proving to be somewhat difficult. I will, however, finish on a slightly lighter note.

Today’s country music.

Stolen from some meme source

Stolen from some meme source

Need I really say more? I don’t even really listen to country music and I know that most of the garbage that gets aired on the radio nowadays isn’t really country music. It’s poppy, or best case scenario, it’s “Bro Country”. What’s Bro Country, you may ask? The song is probably about drinking a beer with the tailgate down, a girl in jean shorts in the bed of the pickup, and a can of dip. Toss in a bonfire reference and a pair of boots and BAM! Bro Country. I don’t really care what you want to listen to. Like…At all. But we should probably change the term away from “Country”. When I think Country Music, I generally think of artists like Waylon, or Merle, or even George Strait. I don’t really think of Luke Bryan or Rascall Flats. Again, I don’t really listen to country (anyone that knows me knows I enjoy a good facemelting Pantera session), so this is from the outside looking in, but have any of you every been to one of these line dancing “country” bars. Lemme set the scene for you….

I’ve got my brand new Justin’s on with a pair of faded Wranglers that I almost ripped hopping out of my lifted truck that’s never actually been offroad. I’m probably rocking an arguably too-tight fitting Molon Labe shirt (or something along those lines) and I’ve got a spotless Yeti hat fit snugly on my melon head. I’m now your standard “country” guy.

The girls wear their cowboy boots with short jean shorts and some sort of attractive top (I’ll never deny they don’t look good). They all pretty much know every move to every song on the dance floor, and the night wears on until eventually most of the “country” guys have gathered enough courage with the help of about 5 Bud Lights to join the fray on the dance floor. And they’ll play song after song of today’s “country” music, with an occasional hip hop song thrown in for good measure.

Did I miss anything?

Again, I don’t really have a problem with it. I just always find it hilarious and mildly entertaining. When I’m in these places I can’t help but look around and wonder how many of these people actually know how to drive the tractors in these songs? Or have ever even seen a cotton field? Or skinned a deer? Or can drive a stick? Or any of it. It all sorta cracks me up. When I see most of these people, I see the country version of Malibu’s Most Wanted.


Finally, I was going to dive into a deep rage about man-buns, and hipsters, and all that. But I just don’t have it in me. I will say this…

Man buns. Ya’ll. For real. There’s like 110% chance if you’re reading this, you aren’t a Calvin Klein underwear model. Unless your girlfriend -really- digs the doo (meaning she wants you to be somewhat similar to said models), you probably aren’t pulling it off.

Hipsters. Will ya’ll PLEASE STOP RUINING EVERYTHING? Beards, glasses, flannel, PBR, craft beer, all of it. Find your own thing to ruin. Stop taking over everything good.

If you’re still with me and you’ve managed to read this far, then I applaud you. This has been far different than any post I’ve ever done, but I think it’s good to vent occasionally. As difficult and infuriating as this was to write, I’ve gotta admit I feel quite a bit better. Stay tuned! I fly back to Colorado in two short weeks to guide for the Elk season again, and I can’t wait to see the stories that’ll come out of it.


Older posts

© 2017 The Flying Kayak

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑

Skip to toolbar