Pony Bob

The arrow smashed into his jaw, knocking out five teeth. He kept riding. It was his second wound, delivered from his pursuers. He had jerked the first arrow out of his shoulder, and kept riding. Now Pony Bob’s mouth had … Read More

Turtle

 Morning rush hour murders your nerves. Worse for turtles. I saw one the other day, stranded on the center line of a busy expressway. He was upside down, legs fully extended, grasping at the sky. His chances for survival were … Read More

Ride with the Devil

In new Pattonsburg’s Old Memories Café I found the best blue plate special this side of the senior center. In that café I found something else: murals commemorating Ride with the Devil, painted by Elanor McMahall. The murals are vivid … Read More

Bionic, When She Starts

Sometimes you get lucky. Erifnus broke down right in front of the house. Bad starter. But since she’s a 5-speed manual transmission, and we live on a slope, I rolled her downhill and popped the clutch. Engine started like she … Read More

Highways Tell Stories.

A highway’s back may be black, brown or tan, red, white or blue. We name them after saints and music and Mother. A highway’s makeup may be heavily applied and easy to see, or it may be worn thin. Her … Read More

Hiding in Plain Sight

Stare at this picture. Soon, a sign will appear. When you see it, share with all the bucks and turkeys on Facebook.

Sunset on the Family Farm

During the 1980s family farms could not endure a deadly one-two punch. The first punch by itself was devastating for a small family farm. American farm policy changed from Depression Era price protections to wide open full-tilt production, a “get … Read More

Turkey. Squirrel. Me.

Deep in the woods, Turkey Camp is the perfect venue to hunt turkey. But the turkeys are safe, mostly. The closest most camper-hunters get to birds happens when folks take a pull on the fifth of Wild Turkey that passes … Read More

Rising Above It All

Dunklin is Missouri’s tallest county, standing almost 44 miles from its sole to its crown, and shaped like the left side of an hourglass, seemingly stuffed with cotton, mostly, until I scratched a little deeper. Down near the border, just … Read More

Goodbye, old girl

We traced Highway 47, crossing the Missouri River into Washington’s movie star face, a gorgeous riverbank town with chiseled features, church spires and storefronts peeking from under a brow of hills draped in nature’s thick mane of hardwood forests. The … Read More