“No, no! The adventures first, explanations take such a dreadful time.”
—Lewis Carroll
by Greg Hague
Summer of ‘88. Flagstaff, AZ. Camping with Dad & Roseann. My name is Corey. I was 6. My brothers: Casey was 5. Brian at 9.
Casey, Corey, and Brian dressed for adventure
We begged and begged Dad, adventure this time! “Hunting,” we said, “We’re ready to die.” Older brother Brian carried the weapon of choice, a BB gun full. Also, our sack of dried peaches for fuel.
I sported a Rambo knife. Little brother Casey had plastic Chinese throwing stars and foam nunchuks affixed to his side. Dad carried my compass so we wouldn’t get lost. Camouflage, bandanas, and black face paint; off we marched into the woods.
Dad strolled down the trail as we darted around. We crunched in the leaves and hid behind trees. It was a blast. As we emerged from a ditch, I thought The trail’s not there! Dad sat on a stump, a few feet away. READ MORE
