Made a pilgrimage to " The Hill" , our old camp site , located in the hinterland . It was our 2nd home. We would round up the kids ( even when they were babies) , the hounds , tons of food and drink and spend a great amount of time there during all seasons.......totally detached in a pristine beautiful world........lots of bears , deer, eagles ,turkeys, mountain lions , Bobcats up the ass and many streams with native trout. We spent years using field guides identifying trees, insects,birds,fungus/molds, wildflowers, tracks, wild edibles, psychoactive wild plants etc. We hiked,explored, practiced bushcraft , tapped sugar maples, picked berries, X-country skied a million miles, split a mountain of logs, ice skated ( big frog pond) , danced like natives with spears around the campfires and star gazed with telescope all night (pitch black way out there). I always hated leaving. I'm posting a picture of that sacred structure ( not my snow shoes...they suck....we use skis, a great deal easier to get around ). The photo was pre-kids , early 80's.....my great old black dog , Harley Bear...always guarding the camp from the perimeter. I'd always saved 2 weeks vacation( 1st two weeks of January ) so we could bury our ass up there and ski morning, noon and night.....always had a fresh crop cut that we would take and dry. I noticed in the pic that it looks like I'm playing with my dinkus and my zipper is catawampus , looks suspicious .....I'm sure my hand was cold...I think . Did I put you to sleep with this corny brain excretion.