We returned last week from our time in the Sangre De Cristo Mountain range. We hunt with the Smith family, who from our count, has been going there for over 30 years. A group of men up to around 25 or so, had been with them over the years. Many have come and gone, and others have filled in their place.
I took a picture of our tent here...
I think why I love being in the tent is because it is old. And it has real dirt. Real dust. And real wear and tear. Its our cook tent over the trip. We come in and out in the early mornings, and the evenings for meals, and between hunting. It feels a bit like a holy of holy. Why? Well, because all these men, over all these years have been part of it. The age, and the brown color is proof. It is nice to be in something that is not aged, pre-ripped, or pre-torn, but just wears itself for its true age, and its character.
We have a little saying on each box we deliver that says something similar. that we aren't pre-fraying, pre-fading, no rips, tears, or holes made up. We wouldn't disrespect you like that. thats your job to wear it into that, not ours.
An aged wine, or aged scotch, is like an aged shirt. But you can't speed up the process. It has to happen naturally, and in time. much like growing into a man. I wish there was a one time event, or happening that could make us into that, but reality is, its going to take some time. much like the tent. but thats what makes it worth it. and why it means so much. it is honest, authentic, and an original. yes.
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