Another Typical Week Here…
I’ve been known to (er…occasionally 🙂 ) vent about where I live and where I work.
A common question I’m often asked is how do I “put up with it” ?
Well, I go out into the bush a lot. I eat nuts and berries, and commune with nature and the Great Outdoors. I find this helps.
To give you an idea, here’s how a recent week went:
Friday July 4th
Drove to a favorite lake right after work, and plopped the canoe in.
Had some of the best fishing within recent memory (see Magic Time). I lost count of how many large-mouth I caught.
Saturday July 5h
Tried another local lake. It was the weekend, I had the place to myself.
That’s because there are so many damned lakes in the area, you can pick and chose where you want to go. (I know…we’re spoiled) .
Caught more bass (another 8-10), just for fun. I threw them back. (I hadn’t finished eating the ones I had caught on Friday).
Sunday July 6th.
Paddled up a creek off the main highway, past beaver dams and marshes. Saw a blue heron.
Cast my line, and had a major battle with a monster small-mouth bass, which I caught and let go. Already the outing was a success.
Came to a set of rapids and a dead end. Portaged up a hill, only to find a beautiful small lake.
It was a natural amphitheater, surrounded by gray walls of granite, with a roaring waterfall framed by a cathedral grove of White Pine. A hot warm wind blew. I plunged into the cool dark water, and basked on the warm rocks. I tried fishing and was rewarded with plenty of small eager bass to catch and release.
I was only 1 mile from the highway as the crow flies. Even though this place was on the maps, as usual, no-one was here.
From the looks of it, hardly anyone ever came here, either.
Good. I’ve found my secret corner of paradise. My natural Zen garden.
I’m definitely coming back.
Monday July 7th
Day of Rest.
Tuesday July 8th
It was a warm muggy day, threatening to rain. The river was like glass, with blankets of moist fog hugging the shore and the hilltops.
After work, I put my canoe in from the edge of town. I was the only boat on the water within miles.
I tried my luck, and was rewarded with two nice pickerel. (Or walleye, as my American friends call them).
Not bad for 2 minutes from home. I had the fish cleaned and fried up within minutes of them still being alive.
You can’t get any fresher than that.
Best. Tasting fish. Ever.
Wednesday, July 9th
I turned 44 today.
(In Polish, 44 is czterdzieści cztery)
If you want to try to pronounce it, it’s “Shtair-reh Djesh-chee Shtair-Reh “. (But I don’t recommend it, you’ll give yourself a stroke).
My Mom came from out of town to visit for the evening. After supper, we drove on a bush road, and I terrified her when I coaxed my reluctant SUV through a small swamp. We arrived at yet another one of my secret lakes.
It was too windy to canoe (whitecaps on the water!). We fished from shore instead, along the railroad tracks.
We didn’t do too badly, actually. Friar’s Mom got a large bass. I got a decent pike, and a smaller bass.
As an added bonus, we discovered the Mother Lode of Wild Blueberries. Right next to where we stood.
I’ve never seen so many. And it looks like nobody’s picked here before. Ever.
In between catching fish, we gorged on berries, and picked another gallon’s worth to bring home.
Not a bad birthday present.
Not a bad week, actually
Hopefully, THIS might answer some of the questions on how I “put up with it”. 🙂
Photo credits: Friar’s Mom