The author was born and raised on the Rosebud prairie South Dakota, educated at the University of South Dakota and The George Washington University. Lieutenant Colonel(R) in the United States Army, he served two years in Viet Nam, posts in the US, and 10 years in Germany.
Author text coming soon…
Jack stretched his aching back against the coldness of the ground, arched up out of his bedroll in the blackest darkness before dawn, groped for his saddle, his pillow for the night. His winter wool trousers, long johns, wool shirt, even with the buffalo robe coat, were inadequate defenses against a ragged night’s sleep, the unskilled art of sleeping on the prairie. He checked his stockings, pulling out a sandbur and cheat grass seed before donning his winter moccasins, and scrunched his red voyageur’s cap, gifted by his father, down around his ears. Without coffee or breakfast, He cinched up the buckskin, and got underway before fumbling to pull jerky from his saddlebag. He rocked lightly in the saddle to let the gait of the buckskin loosen his bones, and re-acquaint his muscles to the rhythm of the ride.
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