Section 37
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Where all good bushelers go when they go beyond the vale. A logger’s paradise where every tree is straight, tall, without flaws, and eight feet in diameter. And no underbrush, scalers, or inkslingers can be found: John’s gone to Section 37 and won’t be coming back. A mythical place. Something not supposed to exist: Let’s just say I found this in Section 37 and leave it at that, okay?
Why Section 37? Pretty much all [...]
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