Thursday, September 30, 2010


Thunder Falls Day 2

Waking up in a tent is always awesome, no matter how many times it happens. It’s just one of those things that is always good. However, breakfast is not always good but tends to get better with time. A little bit of this and a little of that, something Jess calls “goolash”. Add a little maple syrup and presto! Breakfast is served. Things declined after the morning meal when news came that Jeff was under the weather. Perhaps he is a mere mortal afterall, but I still have my doubts. Nonetheless, ECOEE, led my our LOD Topher, pressed on in the pursuit of knowledge about the out of doors. There were bobcats and lynxs, woodland carribu and clear cutting, wigwams and intelligence tests. Lesson after lesson in a classroom with a forest in the front, a river in the back, a waterfall to the left, and some rapids to the right. Beat that Macomb!
But with Jeff’s condition not improving and one of our own not feeling so well, we stayed in camp and lived to paddle another day. Not so bad though, considering the beauty of this campsite. What is bad though, terrible actually, is the fact that this river has NO WALLEYE IN IT! I hear that does and fisherman say they catch them left and right on whatever they throw! I say fiddle sticks! I catch nothing but snaky little Northern Pike, peppered with the occasional Smallmouth. My group wants Walleye, I want Walleye, where’s the Walleye! I guess that’s why they call it fishing and not catching.
So to close this day and entry out, I want to record an observation of mine as I sit by the fire warming my feet. Around cities, it’s never really dark, just orange and glowing. Macomb can be pitch black. But Ontario’s clear night sky is neither. It’s like a night light of stars for us. Remember those boxes with the lights in them from the early 90’s? You would put a piece of paper on it with a pattern and put colored plugs into the pattern to make it a picture? I think they were called Lite Bright’s. Well, the Ontario sky is like God’s Lite Bright.
“The sky resembles a backlit canopy with holes punched in it.” – Incubus


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