fof+page+5

+ When the bus pulls up at Ellison’s Store, Jason wearing blue jeans and flannel shirt, is waiting. He has a beard now, you notice, but somehow doesn’t look much older than when you last saw him. He points to his dirt bike, parked by the gas pump. “Hop on,’ he says. You ride to the ranger station through dense forest. At last you see the lookout –Jason’s home- towering over hundreds of acres of spruce pines

Turn to page 7