Our friends looked at us in shock when we told them of our sleeping arrangements. Previously, the only decision regarding sleeping arrangements in our house had to do with who spoons who. That was until we started letting the dogs sleep on the bed with us. After that, there was no spooning. In fact there was no room for any utensils. Frankly, I do miss the forking. We’re accustomed to strange looks when people learn …
It was late September, 2022. The Missus, the dogs, and I were camping in Farragut State Park in northern Idaho. The weather was beautiful with warm days and cool nights that herald the approach of fall and the reluctant passing of summer. We were there to enjoy nature and celebrate our 30th anniversary. On that day, we decided to drive to the east side of the lake, looking for a way to an isolated campground …
Our trip to Glacier National Park, in which I struggle under the weight of two sleeping dogs and almost succumb to a killer chipmunk.
My trip began with a gambling spirit, and ended with a deep appreciation of history.
I am not the man I thought I was on the inside. I’ve been living a lie.
I had an odd conversation in a Wendy’s parking lot with a guy about Hudson’s “tactical” harness.
In this post I jump ahead to the last day of our trip through five states. The highlight of which was a spectacular tour of Lewis and Clark Caverns.
Looking out over my downed timber, I am confronted with a pressing mystery.
One week. Five states. The Missus, me, and two enormous dogs in a tiny teardrop trailer. Everywhere we went, people asked us the same question.
Every group of friends needs an asshole.
