There's just nothing quite like being the first one to make it to camp. Sitting back in a tired old overstuffed easy chair with a glass of good whiskey and "the book." The wood stove hisses and crackles as it comes back to life, taking the chill off the late evening air. The smell of wood smoke, mixed with stiff alcohol and Hoppe's No. 9 makes everything in the world right if only for a short time. The dull glow of the gas lantern paints the room, as the stories in the book bring the camp back to life. A tired Brittany lays at your feet, feeling the exhaustion that came with chasing grouse all day in the thick woods. It is times like this when a man is truly at peace in his world, and for the time being, all is well.
