A better plan wouldn't be as much fun
"We need to move this stand across this valley here to the other side where I can see down into that big opening next year," Delbert P. Axelrod, also known as "El Loco," said.
The Hunting Club members eyed the 10-foot tower deer stand that looked to be anchored firmly in the ground. "It'll take all day," Doc estimated.
"Why's that?" Delbert asked.
"Half a day to take it apart, and then half a day to reassemble it on the other side," Doc said.
"We don't have to go through all that trouble," Delbert said. "I've been thinking."
Wrong Willie started walking toward his truck. "Then I'm outta here."
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"Away from here," he said. "If Delbert has been thinking, then there's going to be a problem with whatever he comes up with."
"Just give him a minute," I said. "Maybe he'll make sense for once."
Everyone laughed at the hilarity of my statement.
In a better mood, Willie relented. "All right, genius. How are we going to move this stand without taking it apart?"
I gazed up at the stand. Ten feet of the tower was bolted angle iron that angled from six feet wide at the bottom to four feet square at the base of the platform. Then bolted on that was an eight-foot tall wooden box.
The thing looked to weigh a ton.
"I think that if we anchor those two opposite legs to the ground to keep them from sliding, then we can tie two ropes from the box's base to a truck to steady it while we tie two ropes to the other side and pull it slowly down with another truck," Delbert theorized.
We stood in silence while the club members evaluated his plan.
We again laughed hysterically.
But he had a good idea, I thought. "Did you bring ropes?" I asked.
"Of course," Delbert said. "I've thought of everything."
"How long are the ropes?" Jerry Wayne asked.
"Fifty feet long."
"Let's give it a shot," I said.
Doc looked at me like I'd just grown another head. "Are you crazy? It won't work."
I shrugged. "Who cares? With ropes that long, there's no danger of the stand falling on the trucks, and if it does fall, who cares? It's Delbert's stand."
"Hey!" Delbert frowned.
"Don't worry," I said. "It'll work."
The remaining club members looked at me in wonder, thinking I'd totally lost my mind.
So a plan came together. We'd use two trucks on one side to steady the stand and keep it from simply falling over, while one truck on the other side pulled it down. The tension on the ropes should lower it to the ground. It was hard to get everything arranged, because I kept breaking out in laughter.
"What's so funny," Jerry Wayne asked.
"Us," I replied. "This group is actually going to attempt to lower this deer stand down with three trucks, while the physics work against us, and no one really seems to care, because the deer stand belongs to Delbert."
Doc examined the incline on the opposite side of where we were going to lower the stand. "It might actually work, though, Rev. Because the two trucks are high enough to actually steady the stand and keep it from falling like a tree."
"I don't care," I said, and laughed some more.
The entire enterprise took on an air somewhat akin to a child's sixth birthday party. We hummed, tied on ropes, laughed, and theorized how well the idea would work. Then we wondered aloud at how dramatically things could go wrong.
When all was ready, Doc positioned his truck to pull the stand over, while Wrong Willie and I prepared to lower it gently to the ground by slowly backing up at the same speed Doc pulled.
With the ropes attached, we were ready. "Go," Delbert shouted.
Doc pulled, the stand tilted, and the rope tied to my truck broke like a piece of Silly String. I honked the horn to warn everyone, but Doc though it was a signal to continue. He accelerated, the stand tilted some more, and because it was only anchored on one side, the entire structure began to twist.
Willie made a vain effort to turn his truck to center the remaining rope, but gravity took over, causing the second rope to snap. Seeing the stand start to fall, Doc reacted as any normal person would, by accelerating to get out from under the falling tower stand.
It crashed to the earth like a giant redwood, the box exploding into a beautiful shower of wood chips. Before Doc could decide what to do, he pulled the metal frame halfway across the little gully, causing the tower to quickly bend in several different and interesting directions.
"Now what do you want to do?" Wrong Willie asked as Delbert wept over his fallen deer stand.
"Something else that involves trucks, large things that can break without hurting anyone, and weak ropes," Doc said and we laughed at the joy of life and the thrill of the unknown.
Reavis Wortham's e-mail address is reaviswortham@att.net.
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