Blaze Orange is a medium hot sauce made with Thia chilis, habaneros, orange bell peppers, garlic, onion and vinegar.
Scout and the Blaze Orange Escape
It was a humid Georgia afternoon at Ranger Camp in Dahlonega, and Command Sergeant Major Pfroggner was on the prowl. Word spread fast: he needed a few Rangers for motor-pool sweep detail—a thankless job under a sun like molten brass. Boots scraped gravel as squads scattered, but one team had an edge.
Scout, the bird dog with a nose for heat and trouble, caught a whiff of the CSM’s starched uniform long before any human ear could pick up a footstep. With a sharp look and a wag that meant business, Scout signaled the men to follow. They ducked through pines and zig-zagged the ridgeline trails, guided by Scout’s uncanny sixth sense.
Every time the CSM shifted his hunt, and the Copenhagen in his upper lip, Scout shifted theirs—nose high, tail low, like a seasoned point man. Finally, the little patrol popped out at the Overhang, a rustic hideout neatled bu the river. Ice-cold beers waited like a reward from the Ranger gods, and a mountain breeze cooled the sweat of their escape.
From his pack, Scout produced a secret weapon: a mason jar of his own Bird Dog Hot Sauce – Blaze Orange, the color of an old VS-17 signal panel and twice as loud in flavor. He drenched a mountain of hot wings in the fiery sauce, the citrusy burn a perfect match for the golden beer.
As the sun dipped behind Hogback Mountain, the Rangers raised their mugs. “To Scout,” they toasted, “the only point man who can out-maneuver a Command Sergeant Major.” Somewhere back at the motor pool, CSM Pfroggner scowlled at the empty motor pool, shifting his dip woth his tongue to tue other side, he was still looking for volunteers. Displeased, he walked up the hill back to Headquarters and sat quietly at his desk
And so the legend goes: when the heat is on, trust the nose of Scout—because some missions are better served with wings and beer than with a broom.
Blaze Orange is a medium hot sauce made with Thia chilis, habaneros, orange bell peppers, garlic, onion and vinegar.
Scout and the Blaze Orange Escape
It was a humid Georgia afternoon at Ranger Camp in Dahlonega, and Command Sergeant Major Pfroggner was on the prowl. Word spread fast: he needed a few Rangers for motor-pool sweep detail—a thankless job under a sun like molten brass. Boots scraped gravel as squads scattered, but one team had an edge.
Scout, the bird dog with a nose for heat and trouble, caught a whiff of the CSM’s starched uniform long before any human ear could pick up a footstep. With a sharp look and a wag that meant business, Scout signaled the men to follow. They ducked through pines and zig-zagged the ridgeline trails, guided by Scout’s uncanny sixth sense.
Every time the CSM shifted his hunt, and the Copenhagen in his upper lip, Scout shifted theirs—nose high, tail low, like a seasoned point man. Finally, the little patrol popped out at the Overhang, a rustic hideout neatled bu the river. Ice-cold beers waited like a reward from the Ranger gods, and a mountain breeze cooled the sweat of their escape.
From his pack, Scout produced a secret weapon: a mason jar of his own Bird Dog Hot Sauce – Blaze Orange, the color of an old VS-17 signal panel and twice as loud in flavor. He drenched a mountain of hot wings in the fiery sauce, the citrusy burn a perfect match for the golden beer.
As the sun dipped behind Hogback Mountain, the Rangers raised their mugs. “To Scout,” they toasted, “the only point man who can out-maneuver a Command Sergeant Major.” Somewhere back at the motor pool, CSM Pfroggner scowlled at the empty motor pool, shifting his dip woth his tongue to tue other side, he was still looking for volunteers. Displeased, he walked up the hill back to Headquarters and sat quietly at his desk
And so the legend goes: when the heat is on, trust the nose of Scout—because some missions are better served with wings and beer than with a broom.
