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I felt the first twinge when I rolled over, just as the early morning fog began to clear from my brain. The pain didn't surprise me; I wake up in pain every time I sleep on the ground these days. It gets better by the third or fourth night of a camping trip, but this forty-five year old rack of bones is not improving with age, and the thin backpacking pad just doesn't comfort like it once did.

First, I noticed the ice pick sticking out of my ribs just under the left scapula. That one hurts like hell, and it doesn't usually work itself out until midmorning. My lower back was stiff and sore. I knew from experience that the legs would be stiff too, once I tried to stand. But, I needed to take a leak, so I had to give some thought to climbing out of the sleeping bag and wandering into the bushes to relieve that problem.

That morning I also woke up with a huge hard-on. I don't do that as often these days, but when I was younger I always woke up with an erection. With a smile I realized that I used to wake up stiff every morning--now I just wake up stiff. Ah well, life goes on.

The first hint of dawn provided only a bit of flat gray light, and it took a while before I realized where I was. I could see my pickup truck and a picnic table nearby, and trees appeared silhouetted against the eastern sky beside what sounded like a pretty big stream. I heard a heron squawk and realized that was the sound that woke me. ...

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