Thursday, October 16, 2014

Do NOT Go Fishing With Us

            For several years, four of us have been fishing together.  A cousin of mine and I have been fly-fishing together since we were kids.  In 1975 we started an annual tradition of attending the opening day of trout season in Missouri.  Years later, my son Daryn joined us and years after that my son-in-law Steve made the number our current four.  To say the four of us have fun is to use the word rather lightly.  We all have a good sense of humor and get along with each other really well.  Several years ago, we all decided to take our act to Canada.  We all wanted to go on fly-in trips up there fishing and Daryn and I went up there by ourselves one year to check it out and found a wonderful place in northern Ontario called Big Canon Lake Lodge.  First class.  When everyone agreed on a year free of schedule problems, we booked the four of us for the first week of June.

            The camp sets on the edge of a huge lake and is the only camp on Big Canon Lake.  The Maximum number of guests in camp during the week will be 32, with normally the number being 25.  The staff cooks us a huge breakfast and dinner each day and gives us a choice of prepared sandwiches and water or tea or wood and utensils needed for us to fix our own shore lunch of fresh fish.  We can fish on the massive lake or leave after breakfast on their pickup truck and trailer on a narrow road for a mile to another dock they own to a river system.  If we choose to fish the river, we have to be back to the docks at a certain time in the afternoon to meet the truck for the return to camp. 

            The first morning with the four of us was very interesting.  As I have mentioned before, I am a very early riser, usually around 5 am.  My cousin Dennis tends to rise early as well, although not as early as me.  When he saw me moving around that first morning, he decided to get up and get dressed and followed me down to the dining room and main lodge for coffee.  Breakfast started promptly at 6 am with the truck leaving at 7:30. 

            Dennis and I enjoyed our coffee and talked some and walked down to the docks while we waited for the other two to get up and breakfast to get ready.  Soon we wandered back in as guests meandered in from various cabins to their assigned tables.  Daryn and Steve soon came staggering in and found some coffee.  We were served a monster breakfast and then were given our coolers filled with sandwiches and homemade cookies and thermoses filled with tea for the day on the river system.

            We headed back to Cabin #5 for a few minutes of final prep.  I didn’t really need anything other than my rain gear, so I sat on the end of my bed and watched Daryn and Steve.  These two are not well.  Actually their colons are not well.  Our cabin is really pretty nice with a bathroom inside and wood burning stove.  First Daryn scurried to the bathroom.  I heard the window open and fan come on.  A few minutes passed and out he came.  So did a brown cloud.  Steve then scurried inside to take his place.  Dennis and I were looking at Daryn, giving him crude comments, asking him if he was going to be able to make it to the boat, etc.  Soon Steve limped from the bathroom.  Both Dennis and I reached for our stuff, but Daryn  headed for the bathroom again.

            “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said.  “You’re not done?”  He only smiled and closed the door behind him.  At this point I know heard animals making a break for it, seeking fresher air further from the camp.  Our walls were made from thick particle board, a sort of heavy plywood.  I swear there were little pieces starting to separate and fall to the floor.  It wasn’t good in there. 

            Shortly Daryn emerged with a smile, suggesting victory.  To our surprise, as Daryn walked out, Steve walked back in for round two.  I looked over at Dennis and said, “what is this, The Shit Parade?”  After everyone quit laughing, I said, “Look, when you two quit prepping for your colonoscopies, come on outside and join me at the truck.  I can’t stand this parade or this smell any longer.”  I then grabbed my stuff and Dennis followed me out.

            Soon the two with empty colons came out to join us.  We loaded our gear on the waiting truck and left.  As we drove by #5, the foliage outside the bathroom window was already starting to die.  On the way to the boats we passed three beavers, one moose, and two black bears, all wearing respirators. 

            Every morning we were privileged to watch “The Shit Parade”.  Every morning.  They have a problem.  Dennis suggested we get one of those pine tree looking scent things for your car and hang off their ass.  I suggested we just duct tape a pine cone to their ass.  To this day every time we go up there, they give us cabin #5.  I wonder why?      

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