01/08/11\

I was off camping for a week.

Camping is fun, for the most part. I like it a lot because it's relatively new for me.

My parents did NOT take holidays. my dad was an elementary school teacher who had two months off every year and never left home. As a matter of fact he would nearly have to have a gun put to his head to drive to Vancouver, 20 miles away.

It never occurred to me that camping could be anything but a particularly cruel form of torture until I did it some. Actually, it didn't begin to appeal to me until I discovered fishing in my late 20s. Then it made sense. There was actually something to do while there, so bring on the camping.

Usually fishing is something I do so that I have an opportunity to lay on the side of a lake and read. I know all that I'm actually doing is giving the fish a good laugh, well so be it. every once in awhile I get a bite, and that keeps it interesting. Generally i fish alone because none of my friends like to camp and trying to get my wife or boys out of bed before the sun is high in the sky would be on the suicidal side of futile.

So fishing for me generally consists of standing or sitting on the edge of a lake drowning worms and listening to watery fish-like giggles coming from deep underwater. I don't mind. After an hour I get tired of casting and retrieving a float and usually drop some bait deep out in the water and wait. While I wait i read a book, listen to the loons or the silence and feel my heartbeat.

This year was different. This year we went to a lake we had never been to before, a lake that's really close to home. It sounded like a pretty nice place so we decided to risk a week there.

The first morning I got up, put on my clothes and wandered down to the lake shore where I saw an guy sitting there by himself. I sat down ten feet or so away from him and started fishing. He was fishing as well and other than mumbling the obligatory "good mornings" we were silent.

As the morning wore on I came to a surprising discovery, I was catching fish. This had never happened much before and so it was quite alarming. As I caught more fish this fellow and I slowly began talking until we were having one hell of a good time. The fishing was good, the company was good and the sun was climbing higher in the sky.

As lunchtime rolled around we went our separate ways to our campsites agreeing to meet the next morning. we met every morning thereafter. we sat, talked, fished, and shared histories and information. He was a hell of a nice guy. at the end of the week we exchanged email addresses and agreed to meet and fish during the fall. I hope to hell we do.

Other than that, it was a week of wet firewood, and little sleep. Smores by the smoky fire and a couple of trout cooked over cedar (GAWD they were good). Hikes around the lake and expeditions to the waterfalls. Loud neighbours, swimming and NOT EVER seeing a TV. That part was especially nice.

Now it's time to get things ready for an exceptionally busy fall. There are going to be a hundred dozen things to do in the FD between September and June. I'm tired already.
 
 

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