I loved to go with Uncle Warren on his routes when he worked at the Altamont Milk Company especially the days he delivered to the girls' summer camps. One summer I broke my left wrist and arm and the day after I got out of the hospital I was off with Warren on his Malone area route. Warren used to give "horse bites" and he showed me no mercy for my present condition. Unfortunately for both of us he had bought me an RC Cola bottled soft drink on that day at one of his route stops in Moria. After we had finished our sandwiches from the deli in Moria and I finished my "RC Cola", Warren while driving to Malone, reached over and applied a wicked horse bite to the inside of my left thigh above my knee and that was a mistake because in my right hand I had the one inch thick glass RC Cola bottle tightly gripped by the throat. So I introduced Mr RC Cola bottle to Uncle Warren's right elbow with a devastating blow. This ended his love for giving me horse bites forever. Remember I said unfortunately for both of us? Well I apparently inflicted enough damage to his elbow because from that point in the day and for the next two weeks each day on his routes he could not carry the The deliveries from the freezer trucks to the customers, stores and girl's camp kitchens so I was given the honor without pay. I don't know if his elbow ever healed properly because the last time we were together in the summer of 2014 he complained about his elbow. The summers that I traveled with Warren on his routes were priceless. Like the summer that Interstate 87 was about to be opened. Just south of Plattsburgh Warren drove up to a southbound on ramp that was barricaded, had me move the barricades and took the quick way to Elizabethtown waving and tooting the truck's horn to all the construction workers trying to impede our progress. Not too much bothered Uncle Warren. For several years on the last day of trout season Warren and I would pay tribute to his father who was my grandfather Churco by purchasing several bottles of quality before we left for the ponds. Before we started fishing we would pour some of the wine into the water for good luck in case the man we called Pete reincarnated as a trout. Pete loved his "Sneaky Pete Muscatel wine. However we did not therefore we bought good wine and plenty of it. We only almost capsized twice in all those years. My time with Warren filled my mind with fond memories. He will be missed.