It happens. When I was a kid, my family used to vacation some in the Colorado Rockies (outside of Estes Park) during the summer. Mom would always pack a picnic lunch for the drive and Dad would stop at a spot near the road that was very picturesque - usually with a good sized stream running through. Even in August, that water was good and cold ... and we loved to sit on the rocks with our bare feet dangling in the cold, clear water. My father was a very athletic man ... played small college football and was an avid, competitive tennis player into his seventies ... and he decided to hop some bigger rocks across the stream. Well, you guessed it ... he slipped on a wet rock and gashed his leg but good. He didn't need stitches, but it was a bleeder for a little while.
The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted. ~ D.H. Lawrence
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