Ghost Camp

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The campground is deadly silent. The only sound is the quiet ripple of the creek just a short walk away. The crescent moon beckons the howl of the distant coyote. We are the only campers in what used to be a US Forest Service camp. Firewood is plentiful but the ghosts of the lumbermen linger. We are no longer in the middle of nowhere, we are in “the sticks”.

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“The Sticks”

I am not naked. I am not afraid. But I am sleeping with one eye open.

About Woody

We are a couple who took the first step toward a life of traveling in May, 2015. Staying within the continental US, we amp'd the adventure-factor by traveling in a VW Vanagon, circa 1985. Our mission is to share irresistible and compelling stories conceived from this lifestyle of travel.

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