18 months later....Totally worth it!

She's finally home! Not much I can say. So, I'll let the pictures tell the story. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some staring to do. (In the last picture, be sure to take notice of the crab claw shaped brow tine and all the kickers. Those are the types of things that make this beauty a remarkable and truly unique trophy whitetail)

Wanna Rendezvous...

This past weekend I attended my first Rendezvous event with Andy. Just in case you don't know what a Rendezvous is, it's like living before the year 1840. You can't bring or use anything that was invented after that year. The only exceptions were the beer we drank and contacts that Andy put in every morning. But, we did drink our beer out of tin cups, so were were legit. Larry and Andy have been attending these events for 2 decades and part of the events are the "Traders" who sell goods from that period. Larry specialized in guns and knives, and we ran the booth in his honor, so all of his stuff will go to people who truly enjoy it.

This is a picture of our home for 4 days. It's called a diamond fly. It's basically a piece of canvas in the shape of a diamond with a couple stakes and 2 poles. That copper lantern hanging on the front pole was our only source of light at night, with a beez wax candle. It rained a couple times during the night, and surprisingly we stayed bone dry.

Here's a view of the rest of the camp. This is basically 5% of the total population there, which made for a nice mix of people. The vehicles are only allowed during setup, after that, they lock the gates and you officially enter the time machine.

Here he is, the original mountain man. Decked out in brain tanned deerskin pants, 4 inch leather belt with beaver side pouch, period specific shirt, hand-made moccasins, and black powder rifle. What you can't see from the picture is the fact that I hadn't showered in 4 days.

It was a great weekend, and an awesome experience that I can't wait to do again. The only missing piece was Larry, but it felt like he was there the whole time in spirit. Given the fact that EVERYONE told stories about him the entire time we were there.

Eclectic mix of stuff...

I have a few things that are worth blogging about, so I'm gonna get em all out there at once in chronological order.

A few weeks ago I went to Denny Aubaugh's charity car show. He opens up his personal car collection to the public once a year, and donates all the money to Ankeny schools. I think he raises about $50,000 which is pretty good for a 1 day show at $10 / head. Denny is a billionaire who made all his money with something to do with chemicals. He's a BIG Chevy convertible fanatic, and has one from every year starting back in 1912.

This is his underground garage facing one direction:

And here's a pic going in the other direction:

It's absolutely unbelievable to see all these cars in mint condition. Pictures don't do it justice.

He also hosted an outdoor drive-in car show that brought in some pretty good stuff as well.
This one is for sale, and let's just say I'm glad I left the checkbook at home, or I would have driven it home.
(For obvious reasons)

Last Friday my team and I donated a day to Habitat for Humanity. Our tasks for the day were to cut down a bunch of trees (chainsaw work!!!!), paint, and set up some scaffolding for another Habitat house going up nearby. We had a great time pretending to be blue collar workers for the day, and even managed to get out early for a few cold ones. Here we are at the end of the shift in front of the house we were working on.

A couple days ago I stopped in to see the newest member of the Wierson family. Caden Elliot.
He's an 8 lb beast with size 10 1/2 feet already.

Congrats to Chad on Linz on this wonderful addition to their family.
I look forward to seeing him grow up in Jack Trice Stadium.

Having a blast with a gem from the past....

After a couple nights of wrenching, and some help from dad today, I finally brought Tin Lizzy back to life. New coils, battery, spark plug, plug wires, a good carburetor cleaning, and a tow behind the Explorer is all the elbow grease we needed to get her back into fighting form. I didn't capture the initial firing up, because I was too busy trying to figure out how to actually drive the thing and not run into the back of my Explorer.

Left hand has to advance the spark, right hand has to control the throttle. The left foot has to depress the first pedal to get it into first gear, then you let off the pedal and slam the hand brake forward to get it into 2nd. The middle peddle is reverse. The right pedal is the brake. All of these things need to be probed and moved and pushed and pulled at the right time to get this thing moving.

Sounds simple, right?

You would be incorrect.

I have a video of Dad driving the T by himself after we just got back from making a complete loop around the block. After that loop, we both got out of the car and had a good hard laugh. Lot's of neighbors enjoyed the spectacle as well. I can't seem to get the video clip off my phone, and onto the computer at the moment, so that will have to wait. As soon as I figure it out, I'll post it here. Very cool stuff.

Victory... at last!

This is how you give your wife the sign that she doesn't need to call the ambulance:



This is how the conclusion of a 5K should be celebrated with Carol and Rudy:


Since everyone seems to be into quotes lately. I read something pretty cool today that I think is worth sharing: "You don't need the best of everything. You just need to do the best with everything you have."

...and I gotta tell ya, that PBR was the best thing I could have had.

Stimulating the Economy...

Doesn't Obama want us to buy cars and houses to help stimulate the economy?

I'm doing my part. Check out my new ride. (Well, new to me anyway)


Just in case you aren't 100+ years old and have no idea what this is.... It's a 1924 Ford Model T.
Miles unknown. Pulled out of a barn in Whiting, Iowa on Valentines Day, just for me. It really makes a fella feel special to bring home a car full of mice skeletons (and one cat skeleton, sorry Linz) on February 14th. ;-)

Fasten the non-existent seat belts, cuz as soon as I get this thing running I will be giving rides at a blazing 29 mph. I guess I need to figure out how to drive the thing first. It has 3 pedals, two hand controls, and a hand brake, and they all play a part in making this beast roll. There's one gauge on the dash that displays Amperes. Ummmm... OK. The gas tank is under the driver seat. It must be the "suicide bomber edition" of the Model T.

There aren't many cars around that are as cool with as much character and history as a Ford Model T. I dare you to even try to name one.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find a parade to participate in.

What now?

Deer season is over, and it makes me a tad bit sad. Deer hunting gets me through the better part of winter. I don't mind the cold weather when I have deer hunting to look forward to. The snow doesn't bother me because it helps the deer stand out.

As I reflect back on another year in the books I must say that it was a very successful season. We shot a total of 110 deer, and I managed to shoot the nicest buck. Can't complain about that.

Just in case you're wondering what 52 hindquarters look like. See below.


Hollie, I bet that makes your mouth water, doesn't it?

So, what's next? Motorcycle season of course.

Wall Hanger

I finally did it. I didn't think it would happen this fast, but it did. I'm still in shock. It still makes me smile when I think about it.

Gather around kids, it's story time:

Sunday afternoon, 1:00. We were called away from our main hunting group to go help out some other friends who had some nice deer spotted, and wanted some help flushing them out. Aaron and I gladly accepted the invite.

30 minutes later we were sitting there staring into some empty woods wondering if these deer even existed. Aaron asked "What do you want to do? Should we go back to our original group, or wait this out?". I didn't answer. I always love the chance at taking down a nice buck, but I also get impatient when nothing is happening. He said "I'm gonna take a piss, and you think about what you want to do." Just as he turned around and unzipped his pants, two bucks were on a dead sprint about 100 yards in front of us. The first one was BIG, the second one was average. I took 3 or 4 shots, but they weren't good shots, they were just prayers.

We took off around the curve as fast as we could with our adrenaline pumping at full tilt.

Explanation needed here: If you haven't deer hunted before, or hunted in general, then you probably have no idea why a person would get so excited about seeing a nice deer. It's very hard to explain. It's like trying to explain to a non-motorcycle rider why riding a motorcycle out on the open road is a life altering experience. The best way I can describe it is that it's not just hunting, it's a more of a life experience. It's bonding with God's green earth and bonding with your fellow hunters. Everyone who has shot a trophy animal always says that when you can take down one of the most beautiful and sought after animals on the planet, you feel a sense of accomplishment like no other. It's very addicting, and the rush is like no other rush in existance. When you see that deer running full speed, with that gigantic rack displayed proudly on top of his head like a super bowl trophy, it absolutely takes your breath away. Think about how many hunters have seen that deer, spent countless hours tracking that deer in the hopes of just seeing it again, let alone actually getting the chance to take a shot at it. Think how many have shot and missed. Deer like that are rare, they don't show their faces that often. They're insanely smart. They know how to avoid hunters, which is why they've been able to live for so long and develop a trophy rack. They don't take the chances that doe's take, or younger male deer take. They think about their every move, and memorize safe havens to run to in case things get hairy.

OK, back to my story.
We round the curve as fast as we can and the only thing I can think about is how big that freaking first buck was. I knew that I'd be lucky to see him again. We were making a lot of noise with our movements, and deer don't like noise or movement. But, divine intervention stepped in and offered me up one chance to take this magnificent buck. He was in full stride about 50 yards ahead of me, 10 yard from jumping a fence. If he jumps that fence, he's gone. He will disappear into a patch of thick brushy timber, never to be seen again.

I stopped, and in slow motion I brought my gun up, the sights aligned perfectly, the deer was in mid air jumping over the fence, I squeezed the trigger with the sights lined up on the kill zone... BOOM... and like the perfect ending to a fairy tail, the deer dropped. Instantly.

The entire universe was silent for a brief moment.

Aaron let out a neanderthal scream and then said "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU HIT IT... I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU HIT IT. YOU ACTUALLY HIT THAT THING IN MID AIR. I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. YOU REALLY DID IT. WHEN IT CAME DOWN TO IT, YOU MADE THE SHOT."

To be honest, I couldn't believe it either.

I slowly lowered my pistol (that's right, I shot it with a pistol) to my side, and like a tidal wave, it hit me. I looked at Aaron and let out a scream that shook the timbers 2 sections over. We were dancing around like two school girls in ballerina dresses who just got their first kiss. But, we didn't care.

After awhile we actually settled down, I stared at the deer in bewilderment like I had just won the lottery and didn't know what to say.

We went down in the ditch to get a better look at him, and each second we spent looking it over, I got more and more excited. My legs shook for 30 minutes, my body was trying to get the adrenaline pumped out and settled down, but it wasn't happening.

This buck has one of the most unique racks I've ever seen. It has a lot of distinct points close to it's brow, good height and width, thick mass, and great balance. We believe it has 11 scorable points on it, with a possibility of 12.



I have nothing but respect for these creatures, and I look at them as a thing of beauty every single time we spot one. We hunt them and we respect them.

This hunt was the shot of a lifetime. People hunt their whole lives and never get a chance to shoot a trophy buck like this. I am very grateful that I was presented with this opportunity.

In a matter of minutes both hunting groups gathered around to look him over. People shook my hand and said "Congratulations" over and over. Hunters called their friends and dads to come look at it. It was the talk of the group for the rest of the night. I was on cloud nine.

He will hang on my wall as a reminder of this unbelievable experience.
I will never forget the feeling of that hunt and will always remember the slow motion shot that made me king for a day.

He will be back from the taxidermist in October of next year, and that is going to feel like an eternity. A wise man once said "good things come to those who wait", and I can hardly wait.

Now, all I have to do is come up with a name for him.

Hunting 2008

This year's deer hunting season was another success for my group in Southern Iowa. Two solid weekends of hunting has yielded us over 40 deer. We still have late season rifle coming in January, but for now, the hunting season is on pause.

Every year I stay in Creston, Iowa with Aaron Chapman, and this year he has added a new member to his family. A 1 year old Red Tailed Hawk named Izzy (short for Izabel). He has recently completed his Falconry license requirements and is able to hunt squirrels and rabbits with a Hawk. Very cool.

I got the chance to hunt with her Saturday morning, and it was quite an experience. We would walk around some brushy areas and try to flush rabbits out for Izzy to dive bomb. Izzy would follow us around from tree to tree, watching intently. We didn't get any rabbits, but Izzy flew down and got herself a nice field mouse. She's an amazing beautiful animal and it's very weird to be watching TV, while a hawk watches you.


Oh yeah, I got a BIG surprise coming to my blog in a couple days.

I left one piece of my hunting trip out that was the experience of a lifetime.

Stay tuned...

Life is Supposed To Go On...

...but it doesn't. It stands still, and you go numb, and it makes no sense. It physically hits you like a ton bricks and emotionally it feels like your heart has been torn out. Nothing else matters except for that person crying on your shoulder. As tears fall on my keyboard, there's a lump growing in my throat that hasn't gone away since we received unpleasant news yesterday.

I think it was around minute #8 on the treadmill this morning when I realized that I wasn't sweating. What I felt on my cheeks were tears. I truly believe that strength comes from emotion and fear is controlled through that strength. I've learned that valuable lesson many years ago, and it's made me a better person.

I think it was around 7:10 am that I realized I had just gone through an entire workout without feeling anything. I wasn't into it, I wasn't aware of my surroundings, and the person I saw in the mirror was hurting more and more as the morning went on. I had to leave early, I had to sit in my truck, alone in a parking lot, to let my emotions escape their trap. I thought it would set me free, and I thought it would instantly heal me from the inside out.

But, it doesn't. I need to let the healing begin, I wish it would begin, I can't make it begin, and it doesn't seem fair. I realize that I'm not alone. I've never been alone, and I shouldn't feel like I'm alone. I don't understand Why this happened, and I don't need to understand Why right now. I just need to be there for her. Everything else is a distant 2nd place.

The only priority for me is to take the pain away from her. I want to bear the burden of pain for both of us. I can't stand to look in her eyes and realize that she's going through the same thing as me. I want to save her from it, I want to shield her, I want to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, and it's impossible for me to reach the realization that I can't do that.

I know deep down, through all the struggles and agony, that all hope is not lost. It can't be taken away from us. We've come too far to give up now. We can't be stopped in our pursuit. We can and will hit bumps along the way and we can handle it once bump at a time. We will add to our family someday, I just can't tell you when, and it doesn't matter when. I want you to realize that we've already found completeness in each other.

The calls and emails continue to pour in for us. Our giant support network of family and friends offer up condolences. "I'm sorry" is the only thing that can be said. I understand that. There are no words that can express how deeply hurtful this experience is. But, we do the best we can, and I want you to know that we are grateful for each and every one of you. We are truly blessed, and I feel lucky to be sharing my life with you.

Cream Can Cookout

The Iowa State football season isn't going very well this year, but one thing we have done well is tailgated. Thanks to a birthday present from Mom and Dad, I was able to host a good old fashioned Cream Can Cookout outside the 1986 Travelcraft.

Just a quick note on the ingredients:
From bottom to top.
1 package of New Orleans style crab boil.
25 Red Potatoes
3 lbs Carrots
6 Onions (quartered)
2 Heads of Cabbage (halved)
1 pound of mushrooms
20 lbs of Brats, sausages and hotdogs.

Pour 6 cans of beer on top of all of that, and place it over a flame for 2 1/2 hours.

This is Chad and I tending the cream can. Did I mention that I had a red mohawk for the game?



Drumroll please. The final product, piping hot, and very deeeee-lish.



Gotta follow up that good food with a Flabongo?

What is a flabongo?

It's when you take a plastic flamingo, cut the beak off, cut the tail off, pour a beer into it, then chug the beer. Best when done with 2 other friends.


You may have noticed that I'm the only one drinking out of a pink flamingo. The other two were "Halloween Flamingos". I prefer pink because it brings out my inner feminine self.

*farts*

*laughs*

See.

Bikes Blues and BBQ

I have some catching up to do on some of my activities lately.

I recently took a trip down to Fayetteville, Arkansas for an awesome bike rally. It just so happens that the Saturday while I was down there, it was also my birthday. It worked out well, because everywhere I went it was well known, thank to my friends, that I was celebrating a birthday. Needless to say, I had well over 25 beers bought for me throughout the day. I spread the love to my riding buddies so I wouldn't have to turn in early.

This was my riding crew hanging out at our favorite Dixon St bar.
From left to right: The Birthday boy, Matt Carter, Jake Whitten, Dick Hakes, Tony Hakes.



Here we are with our bikes at the hotel getting ready to head out for a ride.


This is a guy in a kilt that bought me a birthday beer. Other then the kilt, he was not cool.



Here we are at a concert with some random guy. He seemed nice. Might have been a bum.


Awesome trip, great company, and a birthday that I will remember forever.
Thank you very much to everyone involved.

The Burn: Day #4

The brand is actually more painful today, then it was the day I got it. Very strange.

It's getting pretty squiggly and wavy around the edges, but nothing else seems to be going on with it. It's like my body doesn't want it to heal. It likes it in the current state that it's in. I got a good closeup in case anyone wants to examine it in detail.


Dad called me yesterday and asked me if I've slapped my brand yet. I told him that you're not supposed to do that until the scar tissue has formed and the scab goes away. He's been in his truck for 3 days slapping his brand about 3 times a day. He said it hurts pretty bad. Well, DUH!

I guess I'll just let it do it's thing, until I need to start suffocating it with saran wrap, and pouring lemon juice in it. ;-)

What's your brand?

Dad and I finally did it. After talking about it for a couple of years, we actually went through with it.

We got branded. With a Circle K.

It's weird to say that you got branded, and it's weird to type out those words.
But, for some reason, it made perfect sense to me and dad.

I'm not gonna lie and say it didn't hurt, because it did. It felt like a red hot knife was cutting into my skin an inch deep. But the pain was worth it and I'm glad my dad was there to share in the experience with me. My wife and mother offered moral support and I think they went through at much mental pain as we did physical pain. Every single time I look at it, I'll remember how proud I am to be a Kneifl.

The healing process is a complicated one. Instead of letting it heal like a regular wound, I have to aggravate it as much as possible (to help the scar tissue build). I will spare you the details, but let's just say it involves saran wrap, lemon juice, and lot's of scab scrubbing and scar slapping. Yeah, for real.

This picture will give you an idea of how big/cool it is.



It was taken about 1 minute after mine was completed.


I will be keeping a picture journal of the healing process on my blog in the coming days/weeks. It should be completely healed in about 3 weeks, but the Scarification Artist said everybody heals differently.

So if you're not into watching 3rd degree burns heal, then don't check back.

Key West - 2008

Every year I take a trip with my friends around March. It started out as a Spring Break trip for us, then it just kept going all the way into our 30's. This year was our 10th trip together to a destination with some much needed sunshine. The winter has been so horrible in Iowa, the feeling of sunshine on my face was almost better then.... then.... uh.... well, let's just say it felt GOOD.

Day #1 we all flew in and stayed in West Palm Beach at Wilson's pad. We sat on his deck in 85 degree weather and enjoyed beverages all afternoon. We hit the town that night and found ourselves entered into a Beer Pong tournament. My partner was Johnson, and we made it the farthest of any of our friends, falling one game short of the finals. Needless to say, the beer was flowing, and the night flew by with enough laughs to make your abs sore the next morning.

Bright and early the following AM we rented this beauty:
A 30 Foot Class C Recreational Vehicle that sleeps 7. (and we proved that). It is also able to withstand 1,000+ farts and not even have the paint peal off the wall.

We hit the road for Key West and stayed at Boyd's Campgrounds. I highly recommend this place, as it's facilities are excellent. Great hookups, showers, patios... etc.

There is a tradition that we have Leisure suit night every year, and this year was no exception. We took over the town of Key West in fine fashion. Check it out:

Johnson, Berkland, Brock and myself. That picture does not justice to Brock's Powder Blue checkered suit. It was the Bomb. It also does no justice for the tightness of Johnson's and Berkland's pants. They couldn't fit their wallets in the back pockets, which makes for an excellent overall look, in my opinion.


Brock, me and Porter at Fat Tuesday's with semi-serious faces.

This is Wilson and a bum that we met outside the bar. We tried to pay the bouncers to let him into the club with us, but the bouncer said he was banned for life. All we wanted to do was take a few shots with our new buddy. But, it didn't happen. We were bummed. No offense.

Me and Johnson looking like we're about to whack someone.

The next day we hit the road for Key Largo, and spent that night at the beach in the RV. Johnson and I both got stung by jellyfish, but they were only the size of golf balls, so it wasn't anything major. It's pretty cool to say that I've been stung by a jellyfish.

This is right outside our RV parking spot where we hung out for most of the day enjoying cocktails:


All in all it was a fantastic and much needed trip.
The weather was excellent, the company was superb, and the RV was the cherry on top of it all.
Can't wait for a new adventure next year.

I miss the sun, and the smell of an RV toilet that had *at least* 25 dumps taken in it.

No joke. ;-)

Stall Mates

Yesterday brought some pretty nice weather to Central Iowa for the first time in what felt like 10 months. I took advantage of the wonderful weather by waxing up the bikes I am currently taking care of. I also got a brand new windshield installed on my bike, and new beetle bags put on dad's bike. I went on a 125 mile test ride yesterday as well, so I could adjust my windshield to the appropriate height. Being on the bike felt like I was back in motorcycle heaven again. It was the perfect day to throw on the leathers and let the sun work it's magic.


Don't they look like best buddies?


Per the request of my dad, I had to include some different angles of his bike, so he can see what the beetle bags look like.

Mom, please take your seat...

Well, it finally happened... Mom now has a seat on the Turbo Rocket. Don't be fooled by that black tank that looks like a passenger seat, cuz it's not. It's the Boost Juice tank.

Before:



After:


A Triumph Gel Seat was added, along with a Triumph tall sissy bar and touring back pad, and a chrome luggage rack. Please note the passenger floorboards added for mom's touring comfort as well.

What you don't see in the pics is the fact that we relocated the Boost Juice pump and made room for a juice tank underneath the seat. It will make for a much cleaner look then where it was before.

Now, if we could just get rid of this snow, we'd be able to take this bad boy out for a little test spin.

10 Point Buck

Just got back from a great weekend of deer hunting in Southern Iowa. The first day out I managed to shoot 3 does. But the big salami came the following day, when I shot this beauty:


Not a bad deer for my first buck ever. It was shot with a .50 Caliber pistol from about 75 yards away. (Note the bandana around my neck) That's the team symbol of my sharp shooting pistol hunting crew. We call ourselves "The Pistoleros".

The DNR even payed us a visit and told us to shoot as many deer as we can this year, because Iowa is already severely overpopulated. He said everyone needs to fill out their tage 100%, or we are going to have a very very serious problem next year.

OK, fine. I'll hunt more.

Randomness

I got this link forwarded to me the other day from Tony Hakes, and I thought it was really funny. It's basically a website where you can upload pictures of people and turn them into dancing elves.

Here's one I threw together for fun:

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1140074970

Let me know if you recognize anyone.
(FYI: Corky Thatcher is NOT one of them, although his twin brother is)

Catching Up...

I have a couple of things to blog about and not a lot of time, so I'm gonna kill a couple of birds with one stone.

First off... my trip to the smoky mountains with T Hakes. The trip was excellent. We had 2 600+ miles days, a couple of 400 miles days, managed to stay overnight in a dry county, ran into plenty of rain, and saw some amazing scenery. Here we are at 6:00 AM leaving Mount Carrol, IL:


Here's some of the awesome scenery in Maggie Valley North Carolina, about 1000 miles later:



Next topic is a recent purchase of ours. It's a nice little 34' machine that will add a little bit of entertainment value to our tailgating season, as well as enhance our vacationing possibilities. I call her "Cys Matters".

I have a TON of stuff coming up in the next few weeks, so I'm sure I'll have to give more updates. This coming weekend is Greg Jr's bachelor party that I will be hosting, weekend after that I'm going on a surprise birthday something, weekend after that Greg Jr gets married, weekend after that we break in the new CYs Matters on the ISU vs Oklahoma game, and somewhere in there I may start up a storage business with the purchase of some downtown property. I get tired just reading all of that.

I would also like to send out a Happy Birthday to Gramma C!