I am The Stuck Pig

Our recuperation complete, Deb and I were anxious to get back to The Mountain today. It’s been way too long, and we’ve missed our little slice of Ozarks heaven. The anticipation (and the dogs) had me up around 5:30am, leaving Deb to continue sleeping.

Beyond my duties with the pups, I had other chores I wanted to knock out before we left — gather trash and get it to the curb, dump both waste-water tanks and drop a couple of pods into the black tank. I wove the tasks together, as I often do — a little of this, a little of that, back to this, back to that. I hate waiting around.

I’d was almost finished when I walked out to shut the dump valves. In the dark, bent over at the waist and approaching the wet bay, I plowed headlong into the corner of one of the open bay doors.

The top of my head caught the same sharp sheet-metal edge that last year had slashed a favorite pair of jeans, tearing a three-inch gash in my scalp. The impact damned near knocked me out.

I fell to my knees, blood quickly covering my face and hands. (If you haven’t had the pleasure yourself, trust me, a scalp wound bleeds like crazy.) I stumbled back inside, hollered to Deb, grabbed a couple of paper towels and put direct pressure on the wound.

She helped me clean up and applied two butterflies — it’s more of a gouge than a clean cut, so a trip to the ER for a few stitches wouldn’t have made a lot of sense. I held an ice pack on it for a while to keep swelling down.

No photos. I feel foolish, and old.

After all that, we did make it to The Mountain this morning. After a quick stop at UPS in Harrison, we picked up our mail at the Yellville post office and stopped at Harps to buy pumpkins — not for us, but to attract whitetail to our trailcams. We chatted with Deb’s cousin awhile, then loaded the big orange fruit into the bed of the Ranger and set out for the summit.

I used a machete to do a little pruning in front of each camera. We put down a couple of chopped-up pumpkins where previously we’d scattered corn. Deb and I had a picnic lunch, for the first time taking the Ranger off the trail we’d made, to a peaceful spot with a secret view of the valley.

The oaks and hickories were showing their first hints of autumn color, gold and bronze among the greens against a cloudless blue sky. It was a spectacular day to return to this special place.

On our way out of town, of course, we hit Carolyn’s Razorback Ribs for their popular Tuesday special — but the restaurant ran out of beef brisket just before we arrived. I had the street tacos anyway, with pulled pork instead of brisket, and Deb had Razorback’s signature “Ernie Burger.” For both of us it was an amazing meal.

We may or may not head back to The Mountain tomorrow. My head still feels like it’s been smacked by a claw hammer (and pretty much looks that way, too). If I had to guess, I’d say that we’ll kick back here for a day and return Thursday.

I know we’ll be in Yellville next weekend — there’s a special event happening over there. You’ll definitely want to stay tuned for that.

Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.

#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath

#LetsGoBrandon #FJB

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