Trophy Hubs...

I do believe I made mention that RyGar was out of town.  Oh yeah, I think that came up when I listed off the reasons I was slowly pulling out my hair last week?

Anyway, I digress... RyGar was out "in the mountains wooking for ewk" as the littles would tell you.  And of course, the hunt began with temps like -8 and mountain blizzards.  So the hunt obsessed men of the family bundled in camo and sported fuzzy facial hair.  This is all getting downright titillating, right? :)

But blizzards and chasing animals the size of Clydesdales that can scale mountainsides through whipping winds and make it look like a walk in the park was no excuse for coming up empty handed.  My man and his posse just wouldn't be who they are if they didn't bring home a trophy.

Here he is, my Marlboro man, (Oh he's gonna die that I wrote that!) looking ruggedly handsome and totally successful...

RyGar told me he was fine with this big mature bull but that it wasn't massive. 

I told him I thought it was reminiscent of a dinosaur.  

So... potato, po-taught-o... or however the saying goes....

And for the record, the littles are with me... "Daddy's ewk is UGE!"

Congrats, RyGar!