Found a tree all by it's lonesome a few years ago. Told grandpa about it by taking some back to him. Should've seen his eye's light up. Right then and there took him back out there and picked everyone up and everyyear after that until he passed we'd go pick chestnuts and he'd roast them the few days after picking them. Delicious and goodtimes. That's the only thing i miss about the club i was in but it got to dangerous and big for it's pants so gladly moved on. When they let idiot's in that decide to start target practicing in a greenfield during bowseason knowing someone's hunting the backside of the field and shooting that direction,it's time to move on.