Eastern Colorado Coyote Hunter's Wife

If you are easily offended, skip this post. There will be some graphic descriptions here that may tend to gross you out. I will not, for the sake of decency, clean up the descriptions of the events of that day. Hang on, here goes.
The National Guard had selected a summer camp site, the Active Army training area in south eastern Colorado called , "Pinion Canyon". It is in the middle of "no" and "damn where " somewhere near Pueblo, Colorado. If you aren't familiar with that area, it is a dry dusty plain that has some mountains as a backdrop for scenery and a few hills to keep the place a little interesting. The environmentalists had made so many rules that it was darn near impossible to maneuver so it was one of the slowest camps I had ever attended. A day there was like a week any where else. We were glad when a storm blew through so we would have something to do.
Getting to the middle of no where took us through a bunch of small towns in western Kansas and eastern Colorado. If you have never traveled with a Military Convoy, try to imagine driving 45 miles per hour with a bunch of diesel trucks ahead of you. Every time one of them would accelerate to close up the interval or hit a small hill they would belch black smoke that smelled horrible and obscured your sense of smell. To make matters worse, I had been chosen to follow one of the groups of trucks as a part of the trails party and I was one tired, dirty bored soldier that couple of days. When we left Topeka I noticed that the driver had an oil can on the floorboard full of kitty litter. As the trip progressed, he continued to spit in it until the last day it sloshed a foul crude oil looking pool of tobacco. Only then did I become thankful that my sense of smell was gone.
As we drove into this one small town, I had the driver pull into the parking lot of the only store within 30 miles. I didn't care if god himself broke down, I was going to get out of that vehicle and get something cold to drink. I knew I had to make it quick because there were about 15 convoys headed to Pinion Canyon and there were only three roads leading in. Oh well, on with the story.
Out in eastern Colorado, the coyote hunters take a perfectly bad pickup (thought I was going to say good here didn't ya. You would have to see these piles of crap with wheels to appreciate how un-roadworthy they were) and put a dog box on the back. The dog boxes contain the worst accumulation of dog flesh ever assembled. They looked like furry wolfhounds that were so ugly only their mothers could love them. I think they drive around and when they spot a coyote they would unleash the hounds of hell and the dogs would run the coyote to ground. From the assortment of antennas on the trucks, it appeared that CB radios kept them headed the same directions. I don't think I ever sw one of those trucks without a rifle rack in the back window and a year's wages worth of guns right there to use. I'm sure that when they put their rifles in the rack and filled the gas tank it tripled the value of the truck. Well, that sorry excuse for a truck was also the main source of transportation for one of the wives as she did her weekly shopping.
Being in uniform and three days away from home just makes most guys less critical of women and in fact amplifies their horniness. Kind of like an all male fire crew's conversation turns to women when there is nothing else to do. (Sorry Jenn, they do talk about women when you aren't there) Even women that couldn't stand the second glance test back home are worth a stare when you are on the road. Not this one.
The first thing I noticed about the gal that got out of that truck was that she spit tobacco out right there in the parking lot. It looked like she had been storing that spit all the way from her house to the store. Judging from the streaks down both sides of the truck they knew how to spit out the doors. I would say windows but I'm not sure there was any glass besides the windshield. The quantity looked like an oil tanker had hit a rock and I swear it looked like a two foot patch of oil spill. (can I hear an "Ewh Gross" boys and girls?)
The woman looked like she had gotten right out of bed and if she owned a comb she didn't use it. Her hair looked like the dogs, rough, long and ugly. She was dressed in a dirty pair of jeans and a tank top that so dirty I couldn't tell what color it really had been. As she got closer, I noticed that she was as dirty as her clothes and by that time I was so grossed out that couldn't help but stare.
The lady's belly was sticking out like she was in her third trimester. It was somewhere in this time frame I noticed that her breast stood out straight (not breasts, she only had one) because it had no place to hang. If her belly had not been in the way, it wold have hung out the bottom of the tank top. I would estimate it at 43 long, only god knows what cup size. As much as I wanted to look away, I could only stand there dumbfounded that she would go out like that.
As she got close to the front of store where I was standing she smiled. Her tooth was dark brown and thank god I wasn't close enough to smell her breath. (yes, I said tooth not teeth, I know the difference.
After I got my cold drink I went back to our vehicle. I almost could not describe how repulsed I felt. I asked the driver if he had seen that lady from the coyote truck and he said," Man did you see the tit on that one". "Man would I like to get to know her". (OK, I did clean up that comment) Just goes to show you that for some every gal there is a guy more than 30 miles from home.
MUD