Davis Riddle grew up in southern Alabama, the only boy among four sisters and the only grandson to carry the Riddle name. Possessed with the love of the outdoors and an explorer’s soul, Davis started backpacking before he was old enough to shave. Tied with his love of the mountains, where good hard stone could be found under foot, is a passion for experience.
Davis has hiked with nothing but a traveling kilt and a bed roll through the mountains, drank from running streams, bathed in roaring waterfalls, and slept in the wilderness in earshot of mountain lions. He has flown in a B-17 bomber, slept on a WWII battleship, swam salt-marshes, and had dinner on giant fortresses lost in the swamp. His explorer’s heart has brought him miles down lonely bayous to explore forgotten ruins and kayaking across the mighty Mississippi, dodging alligators and ocean-going freighters to explore a disappearing 18th century Spanish fortress and a ghost town now lost to the world from Hurricane Katrina’s wrath.
Davis is a Consulting Forester and president of his own firm, practicing in South Mississippi and the Florida Parishes of Louisiana. His daily experiences in swamp and hill continue to provide him with a wealth of experiences on which to draw for his writing. He is married with a beautiful daughter and a wonderful son who already, at less than three years of age, tells stories of his Nanna’s castle populated with dinosaurs and a daddy-knight.
In the Fall of 2007, Davis also enjoyed the publication of a short story, entitled “Refuge” in a distinctly Southern short story anthology called Southern Fried Weirdness.