One of my favorite memories occurred while growing up in the late ’60s as a middle-schooler spending portions of my summers at my uncle’s hunting/fishing camp, Camp Tiger, riding horses, fishing and hunting without adult supervision. I learned to drive my Uncle’s Land Rover. It didn’t have brakes so I learned to coast to a stop. One time I purposely ran into a tree to stop at 2-3 mph. I figured it was not a big deal. I was wrong. It hurt. Later, I learned about physics and that all of the kinetic energy has to go somewhere.
One summer Charlie, the camp cook, brought his grandson, Jack, to spend it out at Camp Tiger.