I've walked in the deep woods since I could walk, which was about 1963. Through bear woods and snake woods and lion woods and people woods. Dunno how many thousands of miles, and all of them without a gun.
That changed the first time I walked in Alaska. In the alder tunnels, looking down at that muddy track as big as my chest, even with a gun I feel like a grasshopper that landed in the bream pond.
