This entry was posted on Saturday, May 22nd, 2010 at 8:49 am and is filed under Family & Friends. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.
Good morning all:
Weekly Wisdom from the Canadian North Woods:
“Never ride the bumper of a school bus during a snowstorm.” — a local everyman we’ll name Claire
To be honest, I started writing this Friday evening since our calendar for Saturday is completely booked. I’ll trust that the coffee will be great—now a little sip of cheap Merlot.
Stops – Saturday’s list of events will begin with a rousing (think nostril opening) run to the dump. Going to the dump is not as simple as it sounds—there are several stops. First is the common household garbage pit. This is the stuff tumbling and screeching seagulls will grab while it is still in mid air as you toss it. Next stop is anything made of metal. Burnables follow and one over is the building materials pit. Then it’s a jaunt to the old trailer housing all the recyclables bins. While at the trailer a quick look-see at the loose items people park against the trailer that are up for grabs (always worth a quick look). Last comes the mandatory smooze with the dump gatekeeper and other assembled folk. “Dry as a bone ain’t it, eh?” “Sure is.” “Flies and sceeters nasty this year, eh?” “Yup, they are.” “Hear about the pike caught last week, it was a beaut” “Later then, eh?” With dust streaming behind our pickup we’re heading out. The dump cycle repeats twice weekly.
Once the bed of the pickup truck has been emptied we’re off to the much talked about yard sale—third house from the railroad tracks about 22 kilometers down the highway. This local “hunt-and-peck” yard sale is the current talk of the North Woods. Marcia is in ‘desperate’ need of a watering can and gardening tools. Therefore, this is a MUST stop.
Finally, in quick succession will be stops at the lumber yard, grocery store, hardware store, the Buckaroo (buy anything) store plus restaurant, and a new garden nursery a few kilometers outside of a little town called Little Rapids, and no it’s not on 99% of the provincial maps.
Smoked Salmon Fail – It started coming home from the dump this past mid-week. Marcia was whining about the dump still smelling up the cab. I smelled nothing. Finally I initiated a physics lesson; explaining that since the cab is a sealed structure totally removed from the pick-up bed, smells could not transfer. For a day she bought into that piece of knowledge.
By Friday morning a discussion about dead animals hiding under the hoods of vehicles was started. Since I did not smell a thing I was much more of a skeptic. Also, I had doubts about dead animals playing hide-and-go-seek—anywhere.
Friday evening (this is now being written Saturday morning, under the influence of some excellent fresh coffee) the neighbors stopped over. While a serious discussion about where we thought our breeding pair of Loons were actually nesting and how the upcoming G20 meeting will impact Marcia disappeared. Minutes later she reappeared around the side of the cabin holding a sealed freezer baggy with some orangey stuff.
We could have been bowled over by that smell. It seems one salmon filet escaped from the ice chest when we trekked north. That ice chest had been traveling behind a seat in the cab of the truck. The Loon discussion ended right then and there. I climbed into the kayak and with an orangey freezer baggy on the bow headed for mid-lake and the place where tumbling and screeching seagulls will grab at anything.
Hiking the trail – Our neighbor, Bob, is a retired forester who worked for the Ontario Park Service for thirty some odd years. He now has a farm in southern Ontario and comes to his cabin up here for additional peace and quiet, and fishing. He casually dropped that the only meat he eats is meat he has bagged while hunting—bear being a favorite. When it comes to nature things I totally trust this man.
At our north end of the lake are three cabins, ours being the first, his, the last. Beyond his place a cove continues until it eventually turns into a low swamp before becoming higher ground. About a decade ago he created a marked hiking trail leading from his property and around the back side of the swamp. Bob tells stories of being up here and celebrating New Year, then taking his family, on snow shoes and with lanterns walking the trail.
He cleared the way for this 2 Km path using a “sandwich-axe” (more about that in a bit). Since the cove has cranes, Blue Heron, Loon, Beaver, and Snow Hares, and he’s seen Moose, it’s an interesting place. Sunday morning Bob and I will worship nature by hiking the trail. It will also allow me to familiarize myself with the trail’s layout so that, next month, when the kids and grandkids are here it could be something on our “to do” list.
“Sandwich-axe” – Bob tells me this tool is about the first item issued to a junior ranger. I was struggling to clear a few branches from allowing the sun to reach Marcia’s veggie garden. Bob told me to hold off and returned shortly with his sandwich-axe. Any branch 2.5 inches or less took a single swipe to bring down cleanly, a little larger and two or three swipes completed the task. This implement was originally from Sweden and available here in specialty chain saw stores like Stihl and Husqvarna. Perfectly balanced with about an 18” inch handle it is designed to use the tension created by the branch’s fibers when it is bent to then be quickly sliced by the tool’s sharp blade. All perfect for creating trails and portaging paths. Now perfect for a Christmas gift for Dirk.
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Make it a great week everyone. Before uploading I’ll sit and watch a raincloud come over the water—the first rain since we’ve been here.
Cheers,
Dirk
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