Ice Fishing – by Stephen Garrett
Eventually, the trees end abruptly and you are at the lake, an expanse of white, bounded by trees and ice-encrusted granite.
Read More Ice Fishing – by Stephen GarrettEventually, the trees end abruptly and you are at the lake, an expanse of white, bounded by trees and ice-encrusted granite.
Read More Ice Fishing – by Stephen GarrettThere was no trailhead. Rather, I should say that if there was a trailhead, we couldn’t find it. I grabbed the metallic tube that my parents called a ‘torch’ to join Bill in the search. I flicked it on only to realize that, compared to Bill’s floodlight, my flashlight had the candlepower of, well, a candle.
Read More Little Cabin in the Woods – by Andrew Shaughnessy