Comments on: Ode to Houston Thrasher

By: armchairoutfitter

armchairoutfitter — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 05:01:15 +0000

It’s hard to believe we are starting another hunting season without the Hunt Master. I’m gearing up for a Kansas trip inspired in no small measure by all the Colorado stories we young bucks heard at the Antioch deer camp. I have to remember to tell my stories to my nephew and his buddies so they will understand why our time in the outdoors and the people with whom we spend it are so precious.

By: Charlie

Charlie — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 20:03:57 +0000

Houston was my friend as well and I share many of the same thoughts that you have expressed so well in this article. He taught me a great deal about politics, character and sticking to a project through to the end. I loved his quiet humor and his ability to reason to arrive at a solution. I have brought many a laugh by relating a Houston story and sharing my appreciation for him.

By: Theresa

Theresa — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 21:42:56 +0000

Michael, I am so sorry to read about Houston. I know that the loss you feel is great. Remembering all the wonderful times you had together and all the life lessons he taught you will help and will, I know, bring many smiles to your face. I’m sure that right now, he’s in a very special place, reading your comments on the Armchairoutfitter and smiling himself. I also feel sure that he’s thinking what a great guy you were and how much you meant to him. Remember, no one really leaves us as long as we keep their memories alive.

By: armchairoutfitter

armchairoutfitter — Sun, 07 Nov 2010 00:40:10 +0000

Colby, I could write for pages and I don’t know what more I could say. Look at the stories on this blog, from “Deer Camp Story #1,000,001″ to “Hell, I Wasn’t There: Part 1.” Houston’s boot prints are all over my writing and my young life. I was on the receiving end of more than one well-deserved reaming too, and I am a better man for it. Our thoughts and prayers are with Trevor, his family, and the extended family of deer camp and dove field disciples. This Old Milwaukee tastes saltier than I remember.