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Hunting with Dad
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<blockquote data-quote="Brad Quarnberg" data-source="post: 2936490" data-attributes="member: 107866"><p>On a more hilarious note, before I was old enough to carry a gun, I use to hunt with my grandma and grandpa. We saddle their horses and ride about 2 hours in the dark to a pass high above camp at the head of a huge bowl. The rest of the camp would start still hunting in a line across the bottom of the bowl and slowly work their way up to the pass. </p><p>On this particular morning we'd woke late and were rushing to get on the trail. Grandma thought grandpa has cinched up her saddle and he thought she had. I was up behind grandma as Trix (her horses name) was making her way around this hillside. It was fairly steep and as the horse stepped up over a root in the trail the saddle slipped and swung under the horse's belly. Fortunately, grandma had shifted her weight to the uphill stirrup so when the saddle shifted, it swung to the uphill side and that's where grandma landed. I was holding on to the saddle for dear life, hanging upside down under Trix who had just stopped dead in the trail when the saddle slipped. Grandma was yelling at grandpa to help me, and grandpa was laughing so hard he almost fell off his horse. Needless to say, that was the talk of camp for several years with everyone asking my grandparents if they remembered to tighten the cinch before we rode out of camp.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Brad Quarnberg, post: 2936490, member: 107866"] On a more hilarious note, before I was old enough to carry a gun, I use to hunt with my grandma and grandpa. We saddle their horses and ride about 2 hours in the dark to a pass high above camp at the head of a huge bowl. The rest of the camp would start still hunting in a line across the bottom of the bowl and slowly work their way up to the pass. On this particular morning we'd woke late and were rushing to get on the trail. Grandma thought grandpa has cinched up her saddle and he thought she had. I was up behind grandma as Trix (her horses name) was making her way around this hillside. It was fairly steep and as the horse stepped up over a root in the trail the saddle slipped and swung under the horse's belly. Fortunately, grandma had shifted her weight to the uphill stirrup so when the saddle shifted, it swung to the uphill side and that's where grandma landed. I was holding on to the saddle for dear life, hanging upside down under Trix who had just stopped dead in the trail when the saddle slipped. Grandma was yelling at grandpa to help me, and grandpa was laughing so hard he almost fell off his horse. Needless to say, that was the talk of camp for several years with everyone asking my grandparents if they remembered to tighten the cinch before we rode out of camp. [/QUOTE]
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