Welcome aboard from central N.C., native of Chicagoland, and two generations of family had a sandy summer farm not far west from Muskegon where I camped after the house had declined. The grandparents were a hardy crew, no power or running water, an old milk cow, and an old horse Bill who paused at the bottom of the hill approaching the farm to rest before making the ascent. The family always respected his wisdom. Eventually an old Model T took Bill's place.
