In an effort to give my brother and I a wholesome country upbringing, when I was six years old, my family moved from a lovely four bedroom home on a few acres in the Poconos that was built by my grandfather to our 77 acres of hunting land in Potter County, Pennsylvania. The mile-long “driveway”, which our Vermont relatives affectionately named the “goat path”, wound it’s way to the cabin at the top of the mountain (pictured above). It was one room (12′ * 24′) with two sets of bunk beds built into the walls. Warmed by a wood …
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