I'd ride the back country roads with my grandfather often, in the county where our family homesteaded.
He was full of stories, and I love each one of them.
We would be going down a dirt county road and he would tell be of a guy that had a whiskey still down in that creek bottom... Or he had so and so had killed a big buck on that hill... Or the game warden was after them one night, and he and his brother hid in that thicket over there, and while laying up in that thicket, and old sow hog was in there too, popping her jaws and raising hell at them.
Too many stories to list.
What I'd give to just have him beside me in my pickup for one more day.
