After chowing down on some grub, I hit the hay feeling like I could sleep for a hundred years. I left my window open to let in the fresh mountain air, filled with the delightful aroma of pine trees, oak brush, and a hint of skunk. In the city, I never left my window open at night because the smell of car exhaust and honking horns was enough to make a grown man cry. Plus, in the summer, my air conditioning bill would be higher than the national debt if I didn"t keep my windows shut tight. But here in the mountains, the air coming through the window had me pulling the heavy comforter up to my chin. If this was summer, I was afraid to think about what winter would be like. Losing my toes to frostbite was definitely not on my bucket list.
I snuggled up with my trusty nine-millimeter under my
