The curious case of the confounding crick…

Earlier this month, my dad met Joe and I for our third-annual spring camping trip to Petit Jean State Park in central Arkansas.  Joe’s mom was nursing a sinus infection and starting a new job (woot!) the following Monday, so she decided to let the boys fly solo this time around.  As it turned out, this was probably for the best.

All’s well that begins well, right?

Joe and I had a leisurely drive over to Petit Jean and after checking in, we went straight to Rock House Cave to make sure everything was as we’d left it since our 2013 trip.  After Rock House, we quickly set up camp, gathered some kindling and had ourselves some canned goods for dinner.  Before bedding down for the night, we managed to build a nice little fire without too much effort.  My dad was running late, so it looked like we would spend our first night sans Pops, which was disappointing, but not a big deal. So far, so good.

But at approximately 2:43(AM!) I was awakened by an anything but good and totally blood-curdling, scream.  Still half asleep, I quickly realized that the scream was emanating less than 18 inches from my head — by my own flesh and blood. [Read more...]

A Hike in the Snow…

It’s 2014, and high time to catch up on some posts.  A conversation today inspired this one, written with just a dash of my world famous sarcism and dedicated to my Dear Ole Dad.  Happy New Year!

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While cleaning out some boxes at my grandmother’s house several years ago, I came upon some photographs my father had taken during my childhood. He had them organized into envelopes, each with a title and date.  I went through them until I came to the last one:

A Hike in the Snow, January 1987.  

This was the one I had been looking for. It happened so long ago, it seemed like one of those bad dreams that just.wouldn’t.stay.away.  But finally I had the proof. [Read more...]