Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapt… - Gary Paulsen

So this summer, this first summer when he was allowed to have “visitation rights” with his father, with the divorce only one month old, Brian was heading north. His father was a mechanical engineer who had designed or invented a new drill bit for oil drilling, a self-cleaning, self-sharpening bit. He was working in the oil fields of Canada, up on the tree line where the tundra started and the forests ended. Brian was riding up from New York with some drilling equipment — it was lashed down in the rear of the plane next to a fabric bag the pilot had called a survival pack, which had emergency supplies in case they had to make an emergency landing — that had to be specially made in the city, riding in the bushplane with the pilot named Jim or Jake or something who had turned out to be an all right guy, letting him fly and all.

But the beauty of the woods, the incredible joy of it is too alluring to be ignored, and I could not stand to be away from it — indeed, still can't — and so I ran dogs simply to run dogs; to be in and part of the forest, the woods

"Because every day in my journal I write down the best thing that's happened to me. And today it's you." When
When Johanna said that, I felt light, warm in that spot just above my stomach where it usually feels clenched and tight.