It was quite the juxtaposition, honestly. Not exactly what I had in mind for my first fishing trip to Argentina, but then, the whole experience had been somewhat surprising.
There I was, casually sitting in the back seat of a Toyota Hilux next to a waifish equestrian from Pennsylvania, a tumbler of iced Irish whiskey in hand, when the first shot from the 30-06 erupted in the night. The horsewoman quickly levitated into my lap and, from outside the truck’s cabin I heard a spirited Scotsman exclaim, “Great shot, Orek! I’m sure there’s another one up there.”