Raising girls doesn’t mean abandoning out-of-doors

The nurse handed over my first-born wrapped in a tiny pink blanket. Transfixed, I gazed into her angelic face while wondering what in the heck I was going to do.

Thirteen months later, this same scene repeated itself.

A Midwesterner by birth, my only goal upon college graduation was moving to Montana to become a mountain man. I moved to Montana; but instead of being swept downriver by a rushing current, I was swept off my feet by a woman. We married and had two daughters.

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