Yes, it was a blast, as I do believe in living life to the fullest, despite living the financial life of a peon. It was constant laughter and 100% honest camaraderie with the boys. As my son and I arrived in our usual spot in Buffalo Park, Colorado, we were unexpectedly greeted by fellow hunters from our past, the mighty and great Cal Doner, a doctor by profession, his pals Terry, Efram, Steve, and Larry, all retired professionals. (Efram, an Air Force Academy graduate was on the original "think tank" who designed the GPS system) I felt a little retarded in such a highly respected group. While my son, John, and I were well stocked with supplies, Cal and his boys demanded we camp next to them and have dinner with them every night. I explained that there was nothing I could contribute in the way of professional conversation, Cal reminded me that I was the "gun guy" and they were all sure to pick my little brain, which they did. My son, a 20 year engineer with the Union Pacific Railroad was with those guys in the professional department, with me, being a lowly forklift driver struggled to hold my own.
Cal's three sons dropped in on Sunday (all professionals, with one son, Jeff being an orthopedic surgeon) After hunting for the day my son broke out his Sig 1911, complete with silencer, the group ripped off a box of factory W-W 230 grain ball, with very little sound.

Yea, I broke my 20 year "near" absence of drinking and had a few Samuel Adams Octoberfests and a few shots of bourbon.

Elevation at base camp was 9300, climbing to near 10,000 feet. Weather was HOT. Mornings were 20 degrees and quickly climbed to 60. Not much game was moving. I only saw 2 mule deer, a blue grouse, a mess of chipmunks, a few squirrels and some dead elk that some boys from Nebraska dug out out of the deep black pines with their horses. These guys usually limit out but this time only got 5 bulls out of 20 guys.
Yea, At 60, I still got it......walked an average of 5 miles per day, (by GPS) heart thumping, sweating. but........no issues as to getting tired. You just have to learn to pace yourself. Having good Italian genes and coming from a family of hard working people helps a bit too.

Getting ready to leave Denver....nice clean Jeep!
Several days later.....muddy Jeep.....our tent.
Efram shooting my son's Sig 45 auto with can.
The horses of the boys from Nebraska
Cal's CJ7...this baby has had it's motor replaced with a 302 V8 Ford and about $30,000 worth of other mods.
Our tent at night.
Camp life..Johnny, Terry, Cal, Lexy, and Savanna.
Breckenridge bourbon.......smooooooooooooottttthhhhhhh.

Campfire life.....Cal about threw up when I heavily chugged his $200 bottle of tequila.

Johnny, Cal, and one of about 6 camp dogs.
You guys will have to trust me on this....there is only ONE Cal Doner....one of the finest men I have ever had the honor of knowing
Cal and his three sons......all professionals. Jeff, to the right is an orthopedic surgeon.
On the trail...tools of the trade...Colt SAA 38-40, GPS, Skoal, energy drink, and hat.
My great and loyal son, John with his Ruger AR in .308
Elk country....a nice place to be.
Me, the retart, with an 1886 in 45-90, binoculars, and a single action Colt in an outside "Doc Holiday" shoulder holster.
Our messy tent. Even though we have a wood stove, because of the higher than normal temps, we only used this Home Depot propane heater....with ventilation!
My son Johnny....in the morning

