Kneill got us a camping site at Mrs. Cooper’s Riverview Primitive Camping on the Duck River. It was about a 45 minute drive from here. Mrs. Cooper sold us a couple of truck loads of wood, and Kneill and Vince really kept it going. Kneill had this fold-up grill stand that we cooked meals on.

When I got back from the emergency room with Vince, Kneill said we got there just in time. Two cops cars were combing the camp sites beside us looking for someone named Bubba. Someone in the camp called the law on Bubba for causing problems. The cops had to return, but the arguing went on at all hours of the night.

Sometime in the early morning hours, Vince and I came up with the term “redneck grenade” for a #2 wrapped up in toilet paper and tossed into the Duck River. A “redneck frisbee” would be the #2 on a paper plate as to not waste the toilet paper.

Vince won’t be whittling with the Buck knives any time soon. We told him he was about to cut himself handling the knife the way he was with the wood. We thought for sure he was going to pass out after all that blood. Mrs. Cooper offered to call the law to come and guide us to Bedford Heritage, but we got their alright.

In the hospital, Vince texted me to check his FaceBook page where he posted some pictures. There was something a little creepy about getting an update from surgery through FaceBook, but there it was, complete with reaction from friends. My sister called me within minutes asking if he’s OK. I told her to check his FaceBook because my battery was about to die, and I needed it to GPS our way back to camp.