Tuesday, November 25, 2008

The Mustache Diaries VI

I can't believe we're already on the 6th installment of The Mustache Diaries!  Time flies when your cultivating and grooming a mustache.  

Things up in the Cheese State are well.  We had a few inches of snow the other night, and we're smack dab in the middle of a 10-day rifle deer hunt (I'll be posting 'The Chris Aderhold Inaugural Deer Hunt Journal' sometime early next week.  Trust me, you won't want to miss it!)

More importantly, another week of upper lip hair growth has come and gone, and it's still flourishing in ways I never thought possible.  And heck, I still have over a month of growth left! 

Did you know that according to dictionary.com the definition of a mustache is: 
"The hair growing on the upper lip, especially when cultivated and groomed."   
Cultivated and groomed?  I'm not even sure what that means.  

I finally got a photographic mustache update from groomsman Wes:    
Wes' beard looks good, but dare I say somebody's mustache is better?

Should I go ahead and shave off the bottom of the goatee now?  Hmm...

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Coon Hunting WIth Jim Riggs

"We will either find a way, or make one."
This famous quote said by Hanibal, took on a new meaning for me last Sunday...
Two years ago I had the distinct privilege of living with some wonderful people down near Dallas who own a coon hound. Maggie's her name, and she is quite a lady. I got pretty close with Maggie over the course of the 6 months I lived with her (most likely our bond became strongest after I made and ate a peanut butter sandwich out of the peanut butter jar that was used to dip Maggie's dog bones in, which happened to be kept in the human food pantry - how's a guy supposed to know that one of the peanut butter jars is not for humans - possibly when I found chunks of bone in my sandwich I should have stopped eating and realized something had gone awry). I thought to myself many times, I wonder what it would be like to actually take a coon hound out on a hunt, because obviously living in the Dallas area doesn't present many opportunities for this.

I finally had an opportunity to experience a coon hunt last Sunday. Jim Riggs, the gentleman that runs the stables next to Camp, came over around 5:30 on Sunday evening with his coon hound, Bruno. We enjoyed a delicious 3 meat Roma oven pizza, and then met up with Jeff and Kevin. As we walked down to Lake Jake, I began to imagine us being in a movie and trying to decide which song would be playing in the background as we approached the lake. I'm thinking anything country would have sounded good.
Coons like to be near water, so releasing Bruno near the lake, which is a stones throw from Harrison Creek, seemed like an obvious choice. It was a chilly and overcast evening, perfect for coon hunts, but it was going to prove difficult for us to navigate through the woods.
There was no need to give Bruno a pep talk before Jim took him off his leash. Bruno knew he had a job to do, and he wasn't going to give up until he was successful. He took off like a flash towards the blue trail, and then back tracked and headed towards the creek near the settler girl cook-out area. Harrison Creek is narrow and shallow, overgrown with honey suckle, and surrounded by a forest of oaks and pines.

The four of us waited near the canoe rack at Lake Jake listening for the howl from Bruno letting us know he'd hit a scent. Only a couple minutes passed before we heard the sweet sound of joy coming from our little buddy. Immediately, Jim took off around the lake and started bushwacking into the woods near the rope swing. The rest of us did our best to keep up, as this was our first times.

Finally after what seemed like half an hour of blind bushwacking, we caught up with Bruno on the far bank of the creek. He was scrambling around howling like crazy, unfortunately though, he wasn't howling up towards the direction of a treed coon.

The ideal coon hunting scenario would have the dog chase a coon up a tree. The dog would then stand guard at the base of the tree until the hunter caught up. From there it's pretty simple: just shine a light up at the coon and pull the trigger of your gun of choice.

Things are a little more difficult when the coon runs under a bank, which is where Bruno's coon saught refuge. The cave under the bank was too deep to see up under, and the countless roots of nearby trees made it impossible to dig the coon out. We did our best to aid in Bruno's digging, but I think we all knew that this was going to be an undertaking we just weren't prepared for.

Bruno would not give up. He was howling like crazy and running back and forth between the two openings of the cave, and he kept looking up at us for help. Unfortunately, the two openings of this cave had roots nearly the diameter of a Nalgene bottle covering the holes. A dog the size of Bruno was too big to get in after the coon, and the roots were too big for us to pry apart or dig out.

After about an hour, and with the coon still perfectly intact under the bank, we tried twice to move Bruno elsewhere in the hope he'd pick up on the scent of a different coon, but both times, even though we'd moved him several hundred yards away, he immediately returned to the site of the original coon.

We caught up to him again, and this time there was a sense that if Bruno wanted the coon that bad, nothing could stand in our way.

Bruno was determined as ever, even in the face of doubt and pessimism, not unlike how I've felt in my quest for the finest mustache west of the Mississippi on Dec. 27, 2008 in Duncan, OK.

Finally, with the aid of Kevin's shotgun, we were able to find a way to get Bruno through the roots and into the cave. Before he slithered in after the coon, he looked back and gave me a wink.

Okay, he didn't wink at me, but in my mind I had a dramatic movie moment of him giving us all a head nod and a wink, as a way to tell us, "Hey, I'll be fine guys, don't worry about me".

Before I could get caught up to much in this moment (the song "The Final Coundown" was playing in my head), the loud squeal of a coon fighting for his life could be heard echoing through the pines as far away as the Ho-Chunk Casino.

Finally, realizing he didn't have a chance for survival against Bruno, he decided to run from the cave, not knowing that he had a better chance against Bruno than he did versus Jim's .22.

It was a victorious and manly walk back to Tom's maintenance shop to skin the coon.
Bruno was happier than Bill after a Red Sox World Series Championship, and the song playing in my head for that walk, covered in mud and carrying a dead, 20 pound coon was "I'm Shipping up to Boston" by the Dropkick Murphys.

Much joy for all parties in this photo (minus the coon).

Kevin and I are happy to pose with the coon.
Bruno is ready for the next hunt.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

The Mustache Diaries V

Happy Tuesday Friends!  

I don't have much of an update this week other than I still haven't used any Just For Men, and I enjoy Starbucks coffee just a skosh more than Dunkin' Donuts coffee. 

I lied last week when I said in only a couple days I'd have the story up about my first coon hunting experience.  Look for it later tonight or tomorrow. I promise it will happen...

Hope you're well friends.

  I know what you're thinking... 
"Which one is Chris and which one is Pistol Pete?  
They both have such full and luscious mustaches."

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

The Mustache Diaries IV

It's Tuesday again, which of course means its again time for the weekly update of the growth on my upper lip.  I am proud to say that this past weekend I was drinking a beverage and some of my mustache became moist because its getting so long. 
I do feel though, that with the honor and privilege of writing a blog comes the responsibility to report 100 % honestly in all that I write about.  That being said, allow me to divulge some rather desperate thoughts I've been having lately regarding my 'stache.  I'm pretty bummed about the inconsistencies in the color and overall appearance of my whiskers.  I'd say only about 65% of the hairs in my goatee are brown, while the other 35% is a color that can only be desribed as 'peach fuzz blonde' (I don't think you'll be finding that color in a box of 64 Crayola crayons with a sharpener on back).  In fact, at a meeting last week in Madison for Wisconsin camp directors, a gal referenced me to Jeff as "the tall guy with peach fuzz".
Truth be told, I've been tossing around the idea of using 'Just For Men Hair Color for Mustaches and Beards' to help give me a more full and vibrant look. I was at Wal-Mart last Friday to pick up a few things (I decided to make the switch from Starbucks coffee to Dunkin' Donuts coffee based on some recent ads I have seen on television touting the superior taste and overall customer approval of Dunkin's coffee compared to Starbucks, plus it's $1 less - I'll let ya know my thoughts in a future post). Curiosity got the best of me, so I ventured over to the old people aisle and did some investigating.  Turns out, this Just For Men stuff is pretty hard core. On the side of the box they have a warning: 
"In rare cases, use of hair dye has been associated with skin depigmentation (skin lightening or loss of skin color), which may be temporary or permanent.  If you notice any skin depigmentation or other allergic reaction such as discomfort or severe itching, discontinue use immediately."
It goes on to say:

"Do not use this product at all if you have skin depigmentation problems such as white patches on your skin (a condition called vitiligo) or if you have a family history of skin depigmentation problems, as an allergic reaction may cause temporary or permanent loss of skin pigment."

You're probably wondering how I remembered all this information.  Well, it's because I decided to purchas this product anyways.  Is it worth using this stuff if there is the chance of losing the color of my skin on my upper lip?  Great question.  I haven't decided the answer yet.  It's certainly a gamble, but I'm nothing if I'm not a gamblin' man.  Ask my father.  I lost nearly $23 of his own hard earned money on the craps table at the Ho Chunk Casino.
Anyhow, thanks for checking in for the fourth installment of the Mustache Diaries.  If in fact I decide to do some mustache coloring experimentation, I'll no doubt document it for my loyal viewers.

Be sure to check back later this week for the story and pictures of my latest adventure:  Coon hunting with Jim Riggs...

God Bless, and God speed in all your facial hair endeavors.  

"17?  Nope, I'm actually 25."  - me

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

The Mustache Diaries III

Greetings all.  

What a beautiful Tuesday we had here in the great state of Wisconsin.  

Speaking of the great state of Wisconsin, I am now officially a resident of the aforementioned state.  The timing of this whole thing couldn't have been any better because as you know, when you get a new license, it comes with a new picture.  I say it was great timing because of course I now have photographic proof until 2012 that I actually attempted to grow a mustache. 
Thanks Gary.  

On Friday, some friends of Camp Gray came by with their 4 kids in their Halloween costumes to show off before they headed out to trick-or-treat.  Collin, their 6 year old boy asked me, and I quote, "Hey Chris, is that a fake beard?"  Thanks Collin. 

Anyhow, I did receive photographic evidence that Gary is in fact growing out his upper lip as well, and I'm proud to present that below.  I also was able to finagle photographic evidence of Gary's best man, Jason, and the awesome 'stache he's rocking these days.  I'm still waiting to get some photos from two other groomsmen, Mr. Hedger and Mr. Gutekunst... 

3 weeks down, 7 to go...

The Best Man

The Groom