A Tent in the Wilderness: A Journey of Joy, Misery and Adventure

My first memory of temporarily living in a tent had nothing to do with

fun or relaxation. In fact, it was the farthest thing from it.

Sometime in the spring of 1974 I found myself lying on my back

staring down at all ten of my toes that were bleeding and crooked. I suppose it

was for the best that all I could see were my feet because my head had a large

gash in it that had my mother and her friend in full-on hysterics.