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Reltney McFee has been interviewed! Click here to read interview.

I like to camp, particularly at the fringes of the season. When you're camping outside of prime time, things are quieter, there are less people, and that, generally, is pretty much the entire point of camping, for me. Face it: I generally dislike people, and collections of people, well, it distills all the unpleasant things I find in humanity, concentrates them, and then aerosolizes them over the immediate surroundings. Not a happy time for a curmudgeon like me.

So, one beautiful northern Michigan weekend, I hooked my camper to my truck, wheeled north, and settled in near the back of the campground at Tomahawk Lake State Forest Service Campground. This is primarily pine country, but there are groves of birch and oak scattered here and there, and the crisp autumn air neatly counterpoints the color change cold nights and warm sunshine filled days produce in them. I love it.

I had spent the day walking the trails near the campground, and having finished my cleanup after dinner, was settled in in my camp chair, knit cap, jacket, simply admiring the full moon painting the lake and trees.

Yep, there I was, fat, dumb, and happy, when this SUV pulled into the parking lot at the boat launch. It was a Saturday night, and I figured that some kid had his dad's Expedition, and was gonna go parking with little Susie, not suspecting that somebody like me might be already there. Hell, he wasn't too far wrong, as all the fudgies were home, ...

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