Reprieve started for me, I'm convinced, in one of these secluded corners, or in the van somewhere between sleep and prayer rushing into the dawn on twisty gravel switchbacks. It started with a prayer to God, Lord I don't know if I can do this today, deliver me, help me, be with me.
Planting turned to spraying in late spring. Teams in echelon formation; the one to the left just slightly back following the one before and the third one following to the left on the heels of the second and so on. When the whole line turned the guy on the end was left running over huge piles of broken trees and uneven ground to catch up like the end of a bull whip.
Every Lamby Pie had a pump-up canister holding six or eight gallons of goop on a back pack frame strapped to his back. Goop was a putrid pink latex based spray we used to treat the fresh lime green buds of last seasons seedlings just beginning to pop. The deer loved them till we covered them with goop.
Grouse thundered up with a start. The line melted out of its machine like tramping and quietly, very softly, formed a circle around a white spotted brown fawn shivering. Its feminine lashed eyes looked calmly up from fern lined under brush.
First day bright and warm, one guy ran up and over a particularly large slash pile only to trip at the top falling headfirst into the middle of the pile emptying the Pepto-Bismol like contents down his back . The others rushed to right this turtle that was unable to save himself.
In the good old days the shilohites used putrefied fish and diesel fuel. A tree spraying crew picked up a hitch hiker once, so the story goes. With the rank smell of the spilt goop, the unsuspecting hitchhiker finally decided the ride was wasn't worth it and asked to be let out early.
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