Being that my friend Gabriel is a fellow weird stuff enthusiast, he signed on immediately when I suggested disappearing into the pines yesterday and hunting pickerel in the cedar bogs and creeks that flow through the area. We found a few 'picks in the warmer shallows, but we also found out you're never too old to get scared by a wandering imagination. Here it was, broad daylight, and you couldn't help keeping an eye over your shoulder. You hear things in the wind. You swear you see things move. You feel like you're the only people around for hundreds of miles. The pine barrens just naturally bring out the heebee-geebies.