During the week prior to this, we watched as Mark Trail arrived at the home of Tess Tigress (who does not remember Mark Trail at all) to conduct an interview with her and then go along on a wild hog hunt with her Hog Hunting Heroines. But he was continually distracted, first by the size of Tess’s house (because her new husband, Jess, is a millionaire); then by their heartwarming story of how the couple met, fell in love, and went hunting together, for ever after; then by Jess’s large collection of mounted trophy heads. Finally, Mark suited up for an afternoon of hog hunting. He did not bring a weapon.
And in this past week, Mark and Tess arrived on location to meet the other two women in the hunting club. Mark got the chance to question each of the women about how they got into hunting and how they formed their group. There was an understandable similarity of motivation: an unfortunate encounter, requiring the women to take action, especially as the husbands were either away or incapacitated.
This week ended with the group hearing rough sounds in the bushes that (surprise!) turned out to be a wild hog appearing in a clearing. Rivera’s narration box boasted of a “hog-hunting hootenanny!” in the past panel, as the group turned to face a single razorback. Will the women flip a coin or will all join in?
This is at least the second time that Jules Rivera has dedicated a Sunday page to the exploding whale incident. The last time was July 9, 2023. You can find it in my archives. Maybe Rivera forgot about it last year? Or she has decided to make it an annual event. In any event, today’s strip fortuitously appears on the same date it occurred in 1970. I have to admit, this version is better illustrated and explained then Rivera’s 2023 account.
If you view my July 9 post, check out the comments. Daniel Pellissier conveniently included a YouTube link of a contemporary local news story on the whale detonation!
The Daily Trail 
There used to be a notorious dive bar in downtown Minneapolis called Moby Dick. They promised a “whale of a drink.” I don’t remember any explosions.
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Right! Well, I remember the place, too, though it was not one of my watering holes. But I’m guessing that any explosions inside would have happened behind the doors marked “Men” and “Women”. Of course, that was back when Henn Ave was teeming with places to go and people to see. Or watch. Notorious in its own right. My wife and I used to go to the original Market BBQ at night, before it was part of the teardown for Target Stadium. It had an attached bar, where sometimes a bouncer and some drunk/unruly bar customer would come tumbling in (literally) to the amusement or fear of the Market’s customers. It was a time, as some people say.
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