I left Texas. I walked off stage sometime in the mid 80’s. It was Jerry Jeff’s Birthday Bash in Zilker Park, down in Austin. Sick to death on cocaine, whiskey, and china white, like a three legged dog I went lookin’ for a place to hide. Back to Kentucky. Back to where I was raised. Back to that little river town. I bought me a chainsaw, an axe and some wedges and I went to work falling timber. I thought I was gonna die but I worked through it. I was free, like back when I was a kid. Unencumbered, unhindered. It was spiritual, exciting and dangerous. I had a little accident. It laid me up for a year. I was eight months on my back and several more on crutches. When I healed up, I lit out for the Great North West to play with the big boys. I lumberjacked for Weyerhauser, Plum Creek, and Carson Helicopter Logging, for over 20 years. That’s where I met her—in Montana at 7,000 ft. in altitude, in the Pintler Mt Range working her daddy’s lodge. That’s where I met my Cindy. Eleven days later we were married. We raised up two boys and a daughter.