The large ponderosa pines fill his nostrils as he makes his way down the winding road. Highway sounds fade away, replaced by the chirping of song birds and the faint bugle call of elk in heat.
It’s Fall in Northern Arizona, which is perfect camping weather. Time to hang up some hippy blankets and bow down to meditate in Mother Nature.
He finds the Bonito Campground relatively empty this time of year. Only a few snowbirds still linger, and a boy scout troop working on earning their merit badges.
He makes quick work of setting up camp, and before long the fire is roaring and crackling in the night sky.
He watches a million stars twinkle in front of him, then closes his eyes and drifts off.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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