Celtics ☘️ Sentinel

 A new movie about to come into theaters, Knock at the Cabin , brought this incident back from the past. Our camp (I never called it a cabin) perched above a remote lake in Western Maine - in the middle of a vast wilderness containing very few folks . My wife and two young kids were asleep inside during one of those nights where there was absolutely no natural light - no moon, no stars. Only blackness. The sudden knock on the door had no warning that there were any other humans other than a family down the lake in the area. In our 30-plus years on the lake, the knock was the first-and-last we ever heard. My daughter, Lisa , was probably the most-alarmed due to her habit of reading some of the most-gruesome horror books while at the camp . You know the kind - stories of innocent girls being pulled outside of their cabin through a window by cannabalistic monsters. That kind of stuff. Well, the guys at the door weren't cannibals. They were wilderness tour guides leading a group of ...

When you are alone nine miles from the pavement in semi-wilderness, you have to make smart decisions. It was early May, and I was driving along the remote logging road to open up my lakefront home. I was halfway to my destination, only to find high water has washed away the road. The river was now back down to a normal flow, and it looked like I had a shot at maneuvering my 4-wheel drive SUV down the embankment - across the brook - and up the other side.  But that seemed like a bad idea. I pictured myself getting stuck with no help in sight. I pulled off the road, stuffed some food and booze into my backpack - crossed the brook with little effort - and walked the remaining five miles to the camp. Upon arrival, a can of Budweiser went into the remaining snowbank - removed the boards from the windows - and settled down to some bourbon and beer - and finally a bite to eat. I stayed the night and headed back to my vehicle the next morning. Everything had changed! Snowmelt had raised th...