View Mobile Site

OK, it’s not the Ritz, but it is home

 I escaped this past weekend.

I set up camp in a cathedral of towering cottonwoods on the shores of Lake Wilson.

This was my fortress of solitude, if not for the noisy bass fisherman across the way. But, I was alone with my thoughts.

“What is the meaning of life? Why am I not supposed to remove that silly tag from a mattress?”

Now, this is my idea of camping: My small tent, a small propane stove, a cooler with hotdogs, baked beans and cold IPA; and bicycles.

There is one pot to cook the beans and heat up water ...

** Subscribers Log in to read this full article.

In order to view premium content, you must purchase a subscription.

Thank you for showing so much interest in our site! Our policies allow 10 free article views each month. To access additional articles including the E-Tribune, please subscribe. Already a print or online subscriber? Just log on to access additional content.

A subscription is required before viewing this article and other premium content.

Already a registered member and have a subscription?

If you have already purchased a subscription, please log in to view the full article.

Are you registered, but do not have a subscription?

If you are a registed user and would like to purchase a subscription, log in to view a list of available subscriptions.

Interested in becoming a registered member and purchasing a subscription?

Join our community today by registering for a FREE account. Once you have registered for a FREE account, click SUBSCRIBE NOW to purchase access to premium content.

Membership Benefits

  • Instant access to creating Blogs, Photo Albums, and Event listings.
  • Email alerts with the latest news.
  • Access to commenting on articles.

Please wait ...