Beers, deer[s], and a monster [burger]

This was the scene at about 8p.m. last Saturday. From the looks on our faces, you probably wouldn't guess what we had just gone through. Or should you?

There was a weekend waiting for me. A continuing tradition from my childhood. The annual family deer hunt -- something I knew I didnt want to miss because I simply couldnt. I would never hear the end of it if I did.

It begins a while back. After a half year of nothing but nebulous, anticipative planning concerning my move west, it was finally in September when the script was written -- I knew I was coming back to Wisconsin for the state deer hunt opening weekend.

Remember those childhood memories the night before Christmas, the moments before buying your first car to freedom, and the restless butterflies in your stomach before that very first date.  Wrap them all up into one very warm sleeping bag, and try to sleep. I challenge you.  This is, and always has, defined me during what has become one of the last remaining countryside activities in my back pocket. For those of us from this state; we know what a craze the sport becomes as the woods and roadside transform orange and the hunters themselves become a deer in rut.

This year, however, deer camp was changed. Because we stayed in a new campground, we also found some new northwoods dining at a place called "The Mug", home of something so large and so life altering that I cant believe many have walked into this place and left the same person. My audience, I present to you, The Monster Burger.

This succulent medley of every traditional topping that takes atop the tremendous one-pound patty of beef is no doubt a challenge to any, but also a feat and competition to others. This night, all was the case.

Check it -- Bacon, mushrooms, ham, cheese, tomatoes, onions, an apparent whole head of lettuce, ketchup, mustard, barbecue sauce and mayonnaise team up with this pound of meat to create one barbaric sandwich, my friends.

I first heard of this story several weeks back after my youngest brother managed to force every little bite into his big mouth...finishing the dinner meant to serve a family.

This weekend, two more challengers came to the table, me and my other brother Chris.  Mono a mono. Could we both make this greasy goodness disappear into the lower depths of our soon to be dying stomachs?....I thought so. But if we in fact did so, could we walk out of the establishment under our own power? Would we be able to wake up the next morning to hunt? We were soon to find out.

After mere minutes of chomping away, this towering monument of food started to disappear...and fast. It's just too bad the napkin's proporations didnt match up. There were no clean hands or faces here.

After nearly 15 minutes the rate of chewing slowed, the stomach's filled -- we were indeed fighting a monster. The looks on our faces said it all.

I felt like a deer myself, continuously chewing the cud of this burger, waiting for the green light from my internal organs to eat more.

Chris and I looked at each other still with confidence, but now with a new pinch of disgust. We were already full, and we were going to eat it all.

And we did. After a half hour our plates were cleared of the $14 dinner.  It had become part of us now. "Ouch," I remember thinking.

That pain was temporarily submissed with the presentation of our trophy T-shirts. Yes, it was now all worth it. Free t-shirt. Chris did finish before me, but I truely believe it was my documentation of the event that allowed such to happen.

The lesson learned here is never give up despite how full of a greasy, fatty, brick-like burger your life becomes......... No. Actually, the real lesson here is to always show up your siblings despite how sick it makes you feel... And always eat your way to a free t-shirt.