Turtle Bluff

Ever since I was around seven years old, I traveled with my father to the Kiamichi Mountains of southeastern Oklahoma to camp, hunt, fish, shoot, and learn rudimentary survival skills.  We typically made two or three trips per year, a tradition that we’ve continued to this day.

Memorial Day is one weekend that is always reserved for the camping trip.

Some of my fondest memories are episodes from these trips.  Over the next several days , I’ll be sharing some anecdotes (with a minimum of hyperbole, I promise) of the trips that will provide some insight into the way I think and act.  These experiences have a profound impact on the way that I write, so don’t be surprised if you walk away thinking that I’ve caught “a little bit of the crazy.”

The trips are generally filled with laughter, high spirits, pranks, lots of shooting, and impromptu gourmet cooking by several of us who will eat only the best in camp cuisine.  We have evolved from a “primitive” camp site to one that boasts a semi-comfortable toilet (you have to dig your own hole, sorry), a battery-operated shower, and fully stocked reloading bench.

During my hiatus on May 25-28, Kate will be updating the site with her usually tasteful mix of commentary and wit, so be nice to her while I’m gone.

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