SC_Boykin
New member
When I was a kid of around 15, we started going to Grainfield KS pheasant hunting. Somehow my dad got in with a group of guys that knew a farmer out there named Orvis. Orvis was a lifelong farmer, a burly man, and when he shook your hand it felt like you were shaking hands with a grizzly bear. He didn’t always hunt with us, but sometimes he would stop his work and come along.
One of the things I will always remember about those times is when Orvis would say, “Get in the truck boys, I know where we can go…”
Now this truck wasn’t one of these new four door plush Kings Ranch models. No, this was an old farm truck, full of spare tires, rolls of barbed wire, and fence posts. We would all pile in on top of everything. Everyone, except the one lucky guy who got to sit up front in the cab with Orvis. Once we were all in, he would take off down those dirt roads going 60. I guess he thought we could hold on to the truck as long as he could hold the truck on the road. A tear would well up in my eyes, as I watched the suburban fade out in the distance. ‘Cause I knew it would be a long time before we got back to the truck. Sometimes we would go for miles riding in the back of that truck, in about 30 degree weather. Your eyes would be frozen shut and your fingers would be cramped from holding on so tight.
We always joked that Orvis was taking us on a parade, just driving us around to show us off. Hell, one time he actually drove into town with all of us stacked up in the back. That did feel like we were on parade.
As I get ready to go on my yearly pheasant hunt, I do like to think back on these fond memories of previous hunts. God bless you Orvis, I hope you are still parading around somewhere.
One of the things I will always remember about those times is when Orvis would say, “Get in the truck boys, I know where we can go…”
Now this truck wasn’t one of these new four door plush Kings Ranch models. No, this was an old farm truck, full of spare tires, rolls of barbed wire, and fence posts. We would all pile in on top of everything. Everyone, except the one lucky guy who got to sit up front in the cab with Orvis. Once we were all in, he would take off down those dirt roads going 60. I guess he thought we could hold on to the truck as long as he could hold the truck on the road. A tear would well up in my eyes, as I watched the suburban fade out in the distance. ‘Cause I knew it would be a long time before we got back to the truck. Sometimes we would go for miles riding in the back of that truck, in about 30 degree weather. Your eyes would be frozen shut and your fingers would be cramped from holding on so tight.
We always joked that Orvis was taking us on a parade, just driving us around to show us off. Hell, one time he actually drove into town with all of us stacked up in the back. That did feel like we were on parade.
As I get ready to go on my yearly pheasant hunt, I do like to think back on these fond memories of previous hunts. God bless you Orvis, I hope you are still parading around somewhere.
