My A to Z line-up schedule:
Every day of the week will have a different theme

A to Z Challenge Line-Up

Monday - Photos, Tuesday - DIY, Wednesday - Fiction, Thursday - Memoirs, Friday - Poetry, Saturday - Food

Friday, September 4, 2015

Bushman Goes Fishing Part II

Part 2 in the series, Bushman goes fishing.

It was the vibrations that I noticed the most.  I could feel them in my teeth and they reverberated they're way through my entire body.  It made me nervous, I wasn't a big fan of flying on jumbo jets let alone single prop bush planes.

I watched the pilot like a hawk, his every move, scrutinized and questioned.  When he reached between his legs for the large plastic travel mug full of coffee the plane lurched slightly and I thought I was a goner right then and there. Casually he took a long sip and leveled the wings.  Which were only askew by a few inches but to me, we might as well have been flying upside down. 

I was amazed at all the levers and knobs and dials the little plane had in it.  Every few moments the pilot would slide a lever a bit to the left and then spin a dial counter clockwise only to spin it clockwise a few seconds later.  A slide of the throttle lever, another sip of coffee and then he checked his messages on his phone.  I was moments away from passing out when I decided to look out the window instead.
What a great choice that was.  The landscape under me was amazing.  Untouched wilderness dotted with lakes, streams, and larger rivers.  The blue sky reflected in every one of them smiling back at me.  As far as the eye could see it was pure and untouched by man.  I marveled at the beauty and was saddened at the same time of mankind’s ultimate loss.

After a brief flight, I would guess no more than 20 minutes I heard the engine change pitch and it brought my attention back to the cockpit.  I watched the pilot make several adjustments and the plane began to descend.  My nerves jittered, but my excitement far outweighed my nervousness now.  We were almost there.  He banked the plane a bit to the left and leveled out and there was our lake spread out in front of us.  What a glorious sight.  I braced myself for a rough landing on the water and was quite surprised when I almost didn’t feel the touchdown at all.

(sorry about the finger)

After touchdown, the plane floated up to the dock and the pilot jumped out and tied us up.  Three men were waiting on the dock, they're gear piled neatly, waiting to be loaded after out unload.  

We unloaded our gear while chatting with the other guys who had just finished their week in the bush.  They said fishing was good and they had caught 117 fish.  Once we were fully unloaded we helped them load their gear into the plane and then the pilot showed us around camp.  He explained how everything worked like the generator, the propane fridge and how to change the tanks.  Of course we knew all of this already but he had to make sure.  He was polite, courteous and professional.  Once he knew we were OK he made his way back to the plane and everyone piled in.  He bid us farewell and happy fishing and brought the little engine on the plane back to life and was soon airborne and fading away over the treetops.

We hauled our gear up to the cabin which was only 30 yards away.  It didn't take long to unpack and settle in.  After that we cracked a beer, toasted our adventure and headed back outside.

We stood there silently.  Nothing was said, we just listened.  After a year of planning, we had finally made our destination.  It was surreal as it gets.  Smiling I turned to my Dad and gave him a high five and said," Let's go fishing Pops!"

Friday, August 28, 2015

Bushman Goes Fishing

Hello and welcome to the High cost of This Low Living!
Dad and I just returned from our fishing adventure in Northen Ontario, Canada just 6 days ago.
Instead of dropping a few pictures and calling it good I am going to give you the entire gig.  Start to finish with pictures, videos and hopefully a good story.
Stay tuned and enjoy!

The seat was cramped, straight-backed and without any cushion.  All around me, tucked into every available square inch, was a collaboration of items whose purpose, with one glance, was easily identifiable. 

I could see outside but just barely.  The small plastic bubble was marred with years of use and everything appeared blurry just like opening your eyes underwater.  In order to see out of the bubble, I had to slouch down in the already uncomfortable seat.  These contraptions were not built for people over six feet tall.  Slouching as far as I could without the seat belt cutting off all of the air which was feeding my already rapidly beating heart I stole a glance out of the window.

The sun was just rising and it glinted off the water’s surface in a million tiny diamonds.  I lowered my sunglasses and stared off into the sunrise.  An island in the distance was serene and tranquil in the cool morning air.  A small cottage sat on its shoreline, the roof only partially visible thanks to the many trees surrounding it.  I wondered if the owner was sitting in his favorite chair watching the sun come up just as I was through my bubble.  A small boat bobbed in the water in front of the cottage.  Its wooden sides were painted blue with a wide white stripe running down the side.  I could just make out the tips of the oar handles poking up over the top of the sides.  I wondered of all the adventures that were made with the tiny craft and found myself yearning to feel the soft, polished handles of the wooden oars.

I was startled from my trance as the pilot pushed the ignition button on the console and the turboprop engine popped and sparked its way to life.  The single propeller at the nose of the aircraft began a slow erratic rotation as the engine struggled with the high compression strokes.  Seconds later the engine was running and the prop was spinning freely.  The little bush plane began to pull away from the docks.

My heart raced as anxiety flooded my body.  We were finally off on our adventure after a year of planning and waiting.  Also, I wasn’t a big fan of flying.  The plane taxied out towards the island much to my delight and I was awarded a closer view. 

As we came closer the pilot nudged the throttles and the engine roared to life and the plane began to increase in speed.  The pontoons under the fuselage skimmed across the still waters of the lake as he pushed the throttle forward all the way.  The nose rose up into the air and within seconds we were airborne and the cottage was below us and then gone.  Faded into memory.