David and the Mountain Lion

In a big family it is often hard to build individual moments with your children. But, when David was 12 he and I enjoyed the adventure of a lifetime that has become one of my most precious memories of him.

It was the Fall of 1997 and I decided to take David with me on an antelope and mule deer hunt to Wyoming with my friend Dan Slawski and his son Dan Jr. David had struggled with school so much and worked so hard I decided that perhaps what he needed was a lesson in life outside of the classroom. His beloved teacher Mr. Dickerson was all in favor of it and even helped David prepare for missing a week of classes.

The trip to Wyoming was long but enjoyable as each turn brought new sights and long discussions about history and the movement west. We took turns grossing each other out with farts and laughed at each other’s stupid jokes. I found out that for all his shyness David had quite a sense of humor and enjoyed making people laugh.

During one stop at a truck stop we went into the bathroom. As I was at the urinal I hear David say “Look Dad they sell balloons!” I choked as I looked up and he’s pointing at the condom machine. “Those aren’t balloons David” as I hurried him out of the bathroom. That led to my first “birds and bees” discussion.

After spending the night in Kearney with the Slawskis (who had moved there a couple of years earlier) we headed out for the final leg to Wyoming. In Sydney, Nebraska we stopped at the headquarters of Cabelas the mecca of outdoorsmen. For three hours we walked around and David just stared in awe at the amazing mounts of north American game.

Once in Wyoming David followed me everywhere while we walked mile after mile in pursuit of our game. Since he was not hunting he carried some gear but mostly he just carried a smile. When I spotted the antelope I wanted we climbed a hill and I took my shot with David peering over my shoulder. It was a magical moment.

The real adventure, however, started afterwards. Dan had finished his hunt early and wanted to take his son into Laramie, leaving us without a truck to traverse the vast ranch. Rather than not hunt I opted to take my Ford sedan, which turned out to be a bad idea. Blazing along a ranch road I hit a soft spot and bottomed out, tearing a hole in the radiator. With chewing gum and water from a cooler we were able to limp to a highway and flag down some help. We eventually were towed to the town of Douglas some 40 miles away. There I learned it would be 3 days to get a radiator from Denver.

For the next three days David and I hung out in our motel room. We watched Men In Black three times and laughed every time. We ordered room service and got some awesome hamburgers we liked so much we ordered them every day. I also learned his favorite chips were Sun Chips as we ate bag after bag. But most of all we just hung out and I got to know my son as a young man. The sweetness of his spirit always brought me joy.

Finally the car was fixed and we headed home. We met up with our friends the Slawskis in Kearney and spent the night. At dinner David recounted the adventure and then over pizza announced that he’d seen a mountain lion. In unison we all turned to him in shock and looked to see if he was teasing us, but he was serious. “A mountain lion? Are you sure?” I asked. He then told us breathlessly that as he and I were driving he’d seen one standing on the side of the road. We all looked at each other and stifled our chuckles and nobody had the heart to tell him it was unlikely he’d actually seen one. His sincerity was so endearing we didn’t want to interrupt his happiness. David ate his pizza with a look of contentment that said it all.

He and I would talk about that trip many times over the years and to his death he believed he’d seen a mountain lion and never once did I question him. That trip meant more to us though than the hunt, it represented a defining moment in our lives when I learned what it really means to be a father and he, to be a son.