on the road to curling
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I woke to more gloominess, and was wary of getting out on to the trail. So instead i decided to see if i could check out some art at the local gallery. I walked all the way back up the mountain only to find that the Gallery wasn't open on Saturdays. Absurd if you ask me. when do they expect people to peruse their fine halls when they are closed on the best day off in the week? Anyways i was a little miffed but not to much. So i went back to the trail, as it still hadn't rained yet, and i was loosing precious walking hours.
I barely made it to Curling before i noticed some water ladden clouds headed my way. "Damn" i thought, had i left a little earlier i could've been much farther than this. while i was thinking this however, i heard a man say "hey, Bye." I turned to see a man on a bicycle headed my way. I stopped and he questioned me further "where ya to." "I'm on to Port-aux-Basque." i said. "On the Trail?" he followed. "yep" i replied. "Come on an have a cup of tea then. its about to rain." I didn't argue. He took me up some stairs at the side of the trail. "Its not me house, but e's a buddy o' mine." I then watched him slip in through the window to unlock the front door. When he came out he pointed to a man down on the path. "here he is." he said. Kieth was up the stairs soon and Frank did a round of introductions.
They brought me into the house. Frank started in on yabbering my ear off, whilst Kieth quietly made me a sandwich. The kettle whistle blew and Kieth set a sandwich of Kam, tomatoe, and lots of mayo, on white bread. I normaly try to steer clear of "meat" from a can, as the gelatine bits freak me out. But my father used to say to me when i was a child, that its rude not to accept something when it is offered out of the goodness of the heart. So i ate it. To my surprise, the excessive use of mayo covered the odd texture and taste of the canned meat. It was a better synthetic mask. Then we went into the living room to smoke and watch T.V.
Kieth put the hat on for the picture
Frank handed me some papers and told me to read them. I soon realized that i was reading some documents from his welfare case. I handed them back to him. He told me I had to read them. So i made my eyes move and tried my best not to take in to much information. Frank was pissed because they were cutting his cheques, as a result of him moving back to Newfoundland. I then got an earful on Franks opinion of this. It seemed that Frank had a lot of opinions. So I slowly included Kieth in the conversation and got him out of his speechless bliss. We talked more about the trail, and what i could expect. Kieth had been hunting and fishing in the area all his life. His knowledge of the land was incredibly useful. Eventually the conversation turned to me, and what gear i had along for the trip. Once kieth found out i was missing a few of his core items, he started pulling things out of every nook and cranny. Soon I had a hatchet, two rain ponchos, another t-shirt, some fishing net, and bunch of string. He kept on pileing things infront of me, i accepted a few of the more useful items. The rest of the stuff disappeared behind the couch. The rain let up soon enough and i was eager to get back on the trail. But not without, some moose meat, and a bunch of cherries picked by Frank.
I got back to the trail thinking to myself "if only he had a daughter, I could be married." lets just forget about that. Something I really don't want at this point. I didn't get far down the trail when I heard another "hey bye." I turned to see kieth this time. He had come along to see that i made it to the store alright, as I had inquired as to the whereabouts of a smoke shop. he escorted me all the way there. He said his final farewell there. I bought a pack of smokes at the store, in addition to a six pack of Blue Star then headed off for Mount Moriah.
All to soon i was back in the bush. the sound of roads and progress slowly disolving into the windy wilderness. I kept on thinking of where would be a good spot to stop, as i needed a bunch of sunlight to cook up the moose. I passed several spots that looked promising. One had an old GM van bench at it. Another was a nice little glade surrounded by spruce. They all seemed to be wrong. So i continued on. A bunch of ATV's passed me, loaded up with guys and guns. Moose Season opened today. Eventually I came to a bush road intersection. There was a bunch of logs lying around and ample space to sling a tarp. So i decided that this would be it.
I smoked a cigarette and assesed the situation. Looking at the logs gave me a wonderful idea. There was a pile of squared off ones, and a pile of roundies. I stacked up some of the roundies to make a fulcrum. Then took two squared ones and placed them perpendicular to the roundies with about 2 feet of overhang. I took some squared ones and laid them across parrallel to the fulcrum. After i had piled about 3 or four, the perpendicular logs cantilevered up. Frank Loyd Wright eat your heart out. Then had the perfect structure to slap a tarp on, and call it a hunker.
camo is awesome!!!
Then came the clever bit about cooking the meat. I had these cans in my back pack that i have been carrying in my backpack since St. John's. They are a product called Canned Heat. Basically they are those little cans you see under hotel pans, at any buffet restaurant. the box they came in claimed that they could boil water in 6 minutes. So i had one aspect of a stove complete-- the heat. Next i had to figure out what to cook in. On this trip i made the mistake of not bringing my pot. I improvised and used my bowl. The final step. to keep the meat over the heat without snuffing it. Thats when i had to drink a beer.... Upon finishing the can i did a little surgery and turned into a holey tube. the perfect hotplate was now complete. I cracked another beer. poured half in the bowl and set the other half aside for me, for later.
Here's the recipe for Hobo moose stew: 1/2 can of blue star, 1 whole onion, 2 whole carrots, a couple slabs of moose meat, and salt to taste. let cook for 2 hours or until tender, and enjoy. I have to say that was the best meal i have ever cooked for myself in such a situation. Give me a stove and a kitchen and i can do much more. Have my bud Brenden around and man its dreamy, creamy, and tastilicious.
After dinner some moose hunters stopped by and chatted me up. they said i had alot of courage to be doing what i was doing.
They admitted that they wouldn't dream of doing it without a gun.
I thought "what your going to shoot off rabid squirrels with your 20 guage or what." But to each his own.
Their security is in fire power, mine comes from piece of mind. Why be paranoid?
Sure bears have big teeth and could crush a bone pretty quick. I got a great smile and incomprable wit. I'd win No competition.
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