So ... I was pedaling around town today.
First stop: El Rancho restaurant where I planned to return take-out plastic "silverware" Pina and I had never used. Then a stop at Basha's (that's where the ATM machine is). Next, a treat from Bedoian's -- oatmeal raisin cookie and iced latte -- a reward for getting in my miles today.
As I cut through the parking lot short cut on the way home, I spied a couple of heavy-duty off-road rigs, and some guys clearly talking trucks. Of course I had to stop, check things out, make some new friends.
"Where you guys been," I asked. "Quail hunting out west of Aguila," was the reply. " We're on our way home now. "
I learned from Todd, pictured above, that he is part of a 40-year old tradition around these parts. Grandfathers, fathers and now sons, assemble in season to bag some birds, if they're lucky. Oh, yeah, there's camaraderie around the campfire, great chow, and even rituals for closure when a beloved member of the group passes on to that great hunting ground in the sky.
Also learned that Todd's rig includes a Desert Storm era trailer which he's built out to include a tent platform for sleeping, and plenty of storage space for ice chests, jerry cans of extra petrol, all his cooking and camping gear, plus 12-gauge shotgun Todd inherited from his late father.
Quail season's almost over. Resumes in October, I think. Good luck, guys; nice meeting you today.
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