William F. Buckley, RIP

Bill Buckley and I once travelled around Yellowstone in an RV.

Ah, the woods. The aroma of Ponderosa pines, and the crisp, clean air.

Buckley smelled his fingers too much.

I wouldn't let him drive.

Disappeared into the back every once in a while, said he liked making faces at the people behind us.

Once he came back without pants.
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