Hunters must be content with the rudimentary comforts of life.
Life had not always treated us this good. We've had to work all of our lives and the few brief weeks that we allow ourselves away from the cares and burdens of making a living are precious and memorable.
At sixty-six years, John (sitting in the foreground, above) has just retired and was getting ready to move from Washington State to Florida. Perhaps in a year or two, I'll retire my sixty-one year old body (reclining after eating a panful of tuna helper, below). In the background, behind John (above) is Dan (the youngest at 43 years old) and middle-age Chuck (52 years).
When you have to go in the bush it would behoove you to go armed. Here's John equipped to handle any emergency - toilet paper and shotgun in hand.
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I arrived at Bettles, having paddled alone a day ahead of my companions, to seek aid and care for my near frost-bitten fingers. At the Brooks Range Aviation bunkhouse I tried to warm my hands and dry my soaked equipment near a wood stove.
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