Wednesday, May 31, 1995

Jerome and Don left Boulder at 11 PM after a full day of working on doing “Last Day” jobs and packing. I was very tired and gave Jerome the choice of staring then or getting some sleep, then leaving in the morning.  We left immediately with Don doing the driving.  The truck was so overloaded I thought the rear springs might snap.  We stopped to check tire pressure (OK) and the new trailer bearings that had been such a pain to replace earlier that day.  They were OK also.  The bearings got checked about four times before we reached Cheyenne.

It had been the right bearing that had burned up in 1992 and that was the one that always would continue as a problem in subsequent years.  They seemed warm; the left was mildly hot while the right was just warm.  To my surprise, at Cheyenne they were both cool.  The outside temperature had dropped to maybe 40 degrees F. and that must have helped lower their running temperature.  The overloaded rear-end caused the truck’s steering to “wander” a bit and to respond to steering slowly but one soon adjusted to this characteristic.

Thursday, June 1, 1995

Don continued driving to  Douglas and then to Gillette where we had a beautiful sunrise about 5 AM.  Stopping for gas at our regular station just north of Gillette at 6:30 AM we discovered they didn’t open until 7:00 AM.  That was too long of a  wait for $ .07 per gallon savings, so we drove back one mile and gassed up plus added a quart of oil to the hard worked engine.  Jerome drove to Broadus, Mt., while Don got some good sleep.  We ate breakfast at about 8 AM at the usual Café on the north edge of town.  Three pancakes, two eggs and large milk were too much for Don.  Their cakes are huge, but good.  Don drove to Glendive where we gassed again.  Jerome drove to Plentywood and we got the last US gasoline at Kum & Go.  Don drove to the border, arriving at 3 PM.  After 5 or 6 standard questions, we were waved on.  No one was in front of us but we were followed by 2 or 3 cars.  I think the secret to a quick entrance into Canada is to be fishing for 10 to 12 days and have cars waiting behind you at the border station.  Don drove through Regina to Watrous where gasoline was less expensive by $.04 per gallon than Regina.  This was surprising because the only other gas station in town was closed for remodeling.  The oil was OK and while I wondered about the coolant, the truck was running cool according to the gauge, so I did not bother to check it.  Five miles out of Watrous, while passing my 2^nd car of the trip, the truck started to boil over.  We stopped immediately and waited for it to cool down.  Jerome is a good mechanic and we both wondered which hose was broken?  Was the problem a bad water-pump?  Was the problem a broken fan belt?  Other??

After checking out all these things we could not find any problem except for all the green water on the ground.  About that time, a big empty trailer rig stopped to help.  The driver took a quick look at out situation  returned to his truck for some gloves to assist his removing the still very hot radiator cap.  We started the engine and filled the radiator with all the water from our frozen ice water jug. There were no leaks, how lucky we were.  Apparently the hot afternoon, extra work of the engine trying to pass another car and perhaps a low level of coolant pushed us over the upper tolerance of the engine and it started to boil.  Quickly we turned off the engine and decided we could fix our problem with a couple gallons of water since the radiator still was not full.  The trucker offered to winch my Suburban and trailer onto his giant empty trailer and haul us into the next town.  I suggested we would be happy if he would just give me a ride into the next town.  I could find some water and then hitch a ride back.

The trucker drove me three miles into the town of Young.  He took charge of our problem and decided he could recruit some local help to get us water and transport me back to my truck.  We entered the only bar in town.  There was only one patron: he was playing solitaire and a barmaid.  The trucker explained our problem.  The largest container in the bar was 2 quarts so our first problem was finding a bigger container.  The lone patron volunteered a 5-gallon bucket and the water but his car was not licensed so we still needed a ride back to the truck.   At that moment a second patron entered the bar to buy a ½ case of beer for a political meeting he was going to attend that night.  After hearing our problem repeated, he volunteered to drive to pick up the bucket of water and then drive back to the truck.  These arrangement having been made, the trucker felt things were under control enough so he received my thanks and departed.  The two patrons and I drove to pick up the bucket, fill it with water and then the second patron drove Don back to the truck in his older, very dusty K-car.  We thanked the driver and he left.   Don started the truck while Jerome poured in the water.  The temperature gauge fluctuated unnaturally, with Don being happy when it went down but worried, as it would swing back up again.  It quickly settled down to a new lower than before reading and we hoped that the problem was really solved.  Don drove to Young and went into the bar and bought the solitaire player who was now seated back at his original table, a drink.  Don then paid the bar maid for a beer to be given to the second patron whenever he came back in.

Jerome drove to Prince Albert where we found Windsor Plywood about 10 PM.  We had hoped to get there early enough to discuss purchase of wood supplies but they were of course closed so we left them a note and Jerome drove on to LaRonge.  Our gas gauge was on empty when we arrived at 1 AM.

 

Friday, June 2, 1995

We parked in the gas station parking lot and we both “slept” in the front seat, along with a cooler.  It was not a good rest.  Breakfast was finished at the Zesty’s Cafe by 7:10 AM and we gassed the truck plus barrels and cans.  If we were overloaded before our load condition now was perilous.  After buying fishing licenses we were off to pick up the mobile phone from Sasktel.  Their building was closed until 11AM!! Such are the hours of a monopoly “service”.  Jerome went to the post office while I went to the Government Building to pay my property taxes on the leased land.  I am told they are in room 206.  After hunting and hunting for room 206, I find there is no Room 206.  The tax office is in Room 208.  Ok, after finding Room 208, I find that they do not accept US cash, checks or credit cards for payment of  property taxes, only Canadian cash.  Walking to the bank, it looks promising with three people coming out the front doors.  “Sorry, we don’t open until 10 AM” they told me as they departed.

Now Don tries phoning Sasktel from the Laundromat but there is no answer.  Don was getting frustrated as he walked back to the truck.  He spotted a Sasktel service truck pulling into their parking lot and talked the driver into allowing Don inside the building.  Don is surprised to find the building teeming with people scurrying about.  Don finds the receptionist and inquires about the phone he had earlier made arrangements to pick up.  The phone was sitting in the hallway with Don’s name on it, ready to go.  Walking out the locked front door, Don asked how he could get into the building next time.  A blank stare and some mumbling about how they were always happy to make exceptions met him.  Don felt it was probably useless to discuss the matter further, so he left with the big phone box, happy he had it in hand well before 11 AM.

Jerome returned from the post office.  They didn’t sell large envelopes, so he had to tear up the map he was sending his father so it would fit in a standard size letter envelope.  Jerome worked at tightening all our ropes, boat lashings and gear while I went to the hotel to see if I could get US currency turned into Canadian.  They obliged by giving me $25 Canadian for my $20 US, just what I needed to pay my 1993 and 1994 taxes.  Back at the truck, Jerome discovered we had driven the entire way from Boulder with the 4-wheel axle locked on.  We had used the 4-wheel drive to navigate the 76^th street construction mess near home and had forgotten to disengage it after getting back on pavement.  This is not a good thing to do!!  After paying my taxes, we were on our way at 10 AM on the road north of LaRonge.

Skies were overcast but no rain as Don drove north.  The road was dry, dusty and generally better than usual.  Good thing, considering the overloaded status of the truck and trailer.  Traffic was very light but one oncoming car managed to “star” the windshield with a flying rock.  This is not an uncommon hazard.  A lot of smoke was in the air and the information we received in Prince Albert about the 81 fires burning now seemed more real. Some of the fires were east of Prince Albert and some southwest of LaRonge where real commercial grade timber was burning.  This is the kind of fire they fight.  Most of the fires were in the lake country, up in the Deception Lake area and this was probably the smoke we were now seeing.  Those fires would not be fought, rather left for Mother Nature to extinguish, naturally, similar to how they likely started, naturally.

We arrived at the 4-wheel trailhead about 2:45 PM, very happy to have had no problems along the way.  It had been overcast but no rain and quite dusty the entire way.  The new 4-wheel road connection that was moved last summer was now located on the right side of the cleared parking area.  Construction last summer of the new Wathaman River bridge involved them moving a whole hill of gravel and rock to use as new roadbed for the new bridge being constructed along side the old bridge.  Don had been parked at the far end of the 4-wheel road and when he had driven back out to the main road, discovered the trail and hill he used to drive in on was quite missing.  He had “bush whacked” his Suburban down the side of the excavation and luckily found the official road project engineer parked by the river.  The engineer was unaware that there had been a 4-wheel road on the hill they used for fill and graciously agreed to bull dose a new connection to the original trail up on top of the ridge.

There was no problem driving the 4-wheel drive road to the portage trailhead parking area.  Don had learned well to drive very, very, slowly.  This was just the opposite of the truck TV ads where rocks are flying and wheels are airborne.  Our problems started when we examined the boats, which Martin and I had left at the landing at the end of last season.  The 17’ Lund had its splash rail partly torn off with 14 boltholes open and the 14’ Lund was moved from where we had left it.  There were many empty brass 30.06 rifle cartridge shell casings in the boat along with one live 12-gauge shotgun shell.  The drain plug was also missing from the 14’ Lund.  These boats had been “barrowed” by native hunters and driven hard.  As I prepared to cut a 1” sapling to screw into the drain hole “Indian style” , Jerome found a new drain plug  among the rocks, solving that problem.  The open splash rail holes would certainly allow some water to come into the boat if we were heavily loaded or encountered big waves.  We would solving this problem by leaving the 17’ Lund at the landing and bringing back repair material from the island on a later trip.

We unloaded the “new” (used) 16’ Lund from the “tank” trailer and pulled it over short logs down the portage trail to the lake.  The lake was very low, several feet lower than what I thought was normal.  Don had been told that there had been a heavier than normal snow pack that winter.  He wondered where it had all gone.  The lower lake level exposed many rocks at the landing and made getting the boats into water deep enough to float a much tougher job than normal.  This extra work consumed more time and energy and contributed to the delay of their departure for the island.  By 6 PM it was clear they would not be ready to boat toDdancing Loon Island that night.  Don suggested to Jeromy that they again “sleep” in the truck that night.  Jerome readily agreed.  The thought of not making the 4-hour boat trip, much of it in the dark and unloading and setting up tents in the dark (as had been done many times before) gave Don a second wind.  His recently scoped knee had held up quite well (about 90%) and he didn’t have too much pain.  Further, the lack of depth perception caused by his newly blinded left eye, while traversing the muddy, mucky, wet, rocky, root lined trail was not much of a problem.  Mostly, they were in need of more daylight and fresh water to drink.

By 10 PM all the gear except food and most of the reworked band saw was in a large pile at lakeside, covered with a tarp and ready to load in the boats next morning.  The truck window screens Don had made for just such a situation worked very well and allowed the truck windows to be opened for fresh air.  They were able to sleep better than the night before since much of the truck had been emptied and they could now find some flat spots to spread their sleeping bags.

Saturday, June 3, 1995

They had been parked next to the trailhead, not up at the parking lot.  This had saved 50 yards of portage distance and they planned to move the truck back up to the parking area the next morning after unloading it, since it was almost blocking the portage trail.  Don woke at 4 AM, probably from the cold.  He shut all the windows and thought about getting up for an early start but just couldn’t get the body motivated and drifted back to sleep.

At 5 AM he awoke when Jerome said people were portaging by the truck.  The Grand Junction, Colorado crew of 6 had arrived.  Don was glad there was enough room for them to get around the truck to the trailhead.  Now it was time to get up.  Don and Jerome finished portaging and moved the truck to it parking place at the upper parking lot next to the tank trailer.  As the Grand Junction folks loaded their boats Don and Jerome ate a breakfast of ham sandwiches, Mountain Dew and brownies.

After loading the four boats they got underway at 9 AM.  It was overcast, oncoming wind, cold but no rain.  It quickly became apparent that the boats were not properly trimmed for a long trip so they stopped to shift the 14’ Lund load more to the rear.  Next, the sports canoe towline was lengthened to stop its zigzag tracking.  That didn’t solve the problem so more weight was shifted to the rear of the canoe and that solved the problem.  After all that messing around it was almost 10 AM, not exactly catching the early morning calm water Don had hoped for.  Later Don found that Jerome was freezing cold but he wouldn’t say anything about it. It was quite cold and Don stopped once to put on his old green goose down filled vest.  Between the vest, his wool army pants, rubber boots with snow mobile liners, blue quilted jacket, heavy rain parka, stocking cap and very heavy wool mittens, he was very comfortable.  Comfortable that is as long as he didn’t think about how quickly he would sink if knocked overboard.  There were no surprises along the way and the 30 HP Johnson ran smoothly, getting about 15 minutes past the halfway point on the first 6 gallon tank of gasoline.  With a NE wind, the roughest water is always in the shallows down wind from the long deep open water west of Jay’s island.  With the light load, we cut through the waves smoothly with the 16” Lund and that smoothed the water for the boats in tow.  The total trip took 3 hours and 40 minutes.  Dancing Loon Island beach was in the lea of the wind so it was an easy landing and the boats quickly unloaded.  All boats were pulled ashore on the old log roller tracks and the canoe was beached on the shore rocks.  A quick survey of the island revealed no foul play except that animals or the wind scattered last year’s trash about the beach.  They had no room for the trash bag at departure time last fall and so left it on the beach to deal with next year.  That was the last time Don tried that stupid move.

Tents went up first and then a cover was put on the cook tent.  New clear plastic was put on the high clear-story walls and the barrel stove hooked up.  Next, the roof port through which the stovepipe exits the roof and stovepipe were assembled.  There was enough light left to get tarps put over the tents as rain fly’s and then a late meal of Dinty Moore stew prepared.  Don was so very tired that food didn’t much interest him, a real indication of the extent of his exhaustion.  It was off to the sleeping bag and the first totally horizontal sleeping in three nights.  It rained 3-4 inches all night long with lots of thunder.  The guys were very happy to have the tarps in place, keeping the tents totally dry and allowed them to enjoy the rain.

Sunday, June 4, 1995

Breakfast consisted of pancakes, bacon and eggs and could not have tasted any better.  With a warm stove to make us comfortable, things were starting to seem a bit organized.  The day was spent doing infrastructure chores, like a home made toilet seat, tarp over the outside john, hooking up the mobile wireless phone, getting it to work, emptying gear from the cache and storing it in the cook tent or tool shed.  These are all things that must be done just so you can have a chance of getting that organized feel about your camp.

Our normal mobile phone channel of 11 doesn’t seem to work but I found that channel 2 works fine.  So much for being at the far reaches of our transmitter tower at Kane Lake.  On a different day, channel 11 may work OK.  At least we can reach civilization should the need arise.  A supper of hamburgers, scalloped potatoes, canned fruit, hot chocolate with some Bailey’s Irish Crème got me in the mood for another good night of rest.

 

Monday, June 5, 1995

I got almost caught up with my log by 10 AM. while  Jerome fixed pancakes, bacon, eggs , coffee and milk for breakfast, a combination of which I never tire.  The 30-gallon drum left on the island was drained of 5 gallons of very dirty gasoline and the two full 15 gallon drums transferred into the 30 gallon drum.  This confirmed we had 30 gallons of good gasoline in addition to what we had just hauled in.  It also meant we had plenty of gas to go fishing.  An hour was spent picking up last year’s scattered trash and another hour spent getting our fishing gear all assembled.

At 12:30 we went fishing in the 14’ Lund using the 10 HP Johnson motor.  The battery was dead, so we started it manually and charged the battery off the engine by just running about fishing.  The Grand Junction folks were at the Campbell River so we didn’t stay there long.  Fishing was slow at Wilson Rapids, but we did catch 3 nice walleye, 2 of which were brought back and put in our newly repaired live box.  Fishing off Indian Island was a zero.  The Indian campsite had a moose hide draped over a small tree.

Back on Dancing Loon Island, the effects of a very sunny day were felt with some mild sunburn.  Jerome fixed a large supper of fresh walleye, fried potatoes with onions added late in their cooking, warmed over scalloped potatoes au gratin, mandarin oranges, milk, coffee plus hot chocolate with Bailey’s.  Chatty loons serenaded us and reminded us why “loon” was in the island’s name.  Don had a nice phone conversation with Tom and everything is OK back in Colorado.  By 7:30 PM we were reading “Stories of Old Duck Hunters”.  Then Jerome read aloud from “Where the Red Fern Grows” and Don fell asleep.  Don awoke and wrote a page in his log but was then forced by drowsiness to go to bed.

Tuesday, June 6, 1995

We are up by 6:45 AM to find it a chilly 38 degrees F. and cloudy with a North breeze.  After we started a quick fire with kindling Jerome gathered yesterday, the cook tent soon warmed to a toasty temperature.  The hot coffee in my new loon pictured mug swirled steam upward as I finally got the log totally up to date.  I will be working next on the transcription of last year’s log from loose yellow papers into this bound log, along with current entries on our “To Do List”.

Our first job was to move the boats to safer parking spots in case of a strong wind.  Jerome moved rocks from the shallow water and we managed to get the 16’ Lund to be nicely high and dry.

Next we spent too much time getting the crypt open.  It has several real screws into the floor joist below it.  After all that effort, it was empty except for some ice.  Jerome moved some stub logs from the end of the shore trail while I started work on the rafter trusses.  Jerome helped Don move 2-15’ truss logs up onto the cabin floor and we decided on which rafter to center the pivot point (8’ from the SW window wall).

Jerome restacked the “hard” stuff from the beach to the log skinning area, thus clearing the path to the beach and making a third set of rollers available for the 17’ Lund when we brought it back to the island.  Jerome also moved some gear, the generator, etc up to the cabin site from the beach.

Don got the east rafter truss fitted and the West one started.  He used ropes to move the truss up and down 12 times to mark, cut, fit and try again before being happy with the fit.  Much of the chainsaw trimming was done with the log just hanging by the ropes, free to swing, thus making it a moving target.  With only one eye working, Don was amazed at the good fit he made.  Of course, it took all day so he wasn’t bragging too much.  Jerome took a nap while Don trimmed, then Jerome returned to the cabin to cut and staple Tyvek to the plywood outside, above and below the front windows.

Later that afternoon Jerome came up to the cabin carrying a cup and a gallon milk bottle full of water.  “We now have filtered water to drink” he proudly announced.  I had tried yesterday to get my new electric water filter working but the pump wouldn’t pump, so I had abandoned it to try later.  “What do you mean, Jerome, did you get my damned pump fixed?”  “How did you do it??”  I rattled off a sting of questions in disbelief.

“I sucked on the output line and got rid of the vacuum in the pump.  After that, she pumped real well” replied Jerome with more than a ting of pride in his voice.  “Hot Damn Leroy, why am I surprised?”  “You fix everything and solve all our problems”, I exclaimed with great joy.  “How does the water taste??  Pretty good, eh?”, I followed.  “Got rid of the slight lake taste alright.  Hot damn Leroy, you are OK, I don’t care what Martin says about you, you are OK!!”

At 7 PM we decided to fix supper.  Two large hamburgers apiece, beans plus corn rounded out the meal.  Jerome took the first hot shower (it had been 7 days coming), while Don picked up and stored tools in the cabin.  We are now working on top of the heavy green tarp put down on the floor last year for the winter protection.  It is handy not to have to spend time taking tarps up and down like we were last year.  Oh, what a pleasure having a flat surface to work on!

After getting the tools put away, during which the only mosquitoes of the day appeared, Don returned to the cook tent for his hot shower.  First I had to straighten out my tent and find a set of clean clothes.  “Jerome, how much hot water did you put in the shower bottle?”  “I filled it with all the water from the big pan, then topped it off with cold water and it was just right”, he said.  I found the blue shower bottle funnel in the tool box.  “It says ‘shower funnel H2O right on this tape.  We will see how it works”, I said.  After filling the bottle from the pan of heated water, I pumped it full of cold water from our pitcher-pump.  “This still seems pretty hot, Jerome”  “Well, I spilled more hot water than you because I didn’t use a funnel, so you might want to wait and let it cool down a bit”, Jerome responded.  “I think I better not wait any longer, seven days is a little long already”, I said.

The water was too hot, but by reducing the flow rate, it was just right.  “Leroy, don’t let those girls in here yet, I am not quite ready for my back to be washed.  They are just going to have to wait their turn!” I quipped.  “Leroy, how much do you think those Grand Junction boys camped down on that bare rock island would pay for a hot shower?  $20 or what?  We could put a sign up at Wilson Rapids with a big arrow pointing this way ‘Hot Showers $50’”.  Jerome allowed “They might just pay that”.

It was still twilight at 11 PM.  The half moon was up in a clear sky which was also a bright rose color in the North East.  Loons occasionally talked back and forth.  With a full belly, a clean body, clean clothes, a warm stove and a cozy oil lamp burning, it is hard to think of any place on earth as nice.  It seemed a shame to end it all by going to bed, but after a good day of getting real cabin work done, that too promises a great pleasure, and it did.

Wednesday, June 7, 1995

I was up at 6:30 AM.  It is 32 degrees, totally clear and dead calm.  What a gorgeous morning.  A warm fire and hot coffee keep me comfortable as I update this journal.  The phone is on but I doubt we will have any incoming calls.  Sasktel operators are so confused about incoming calls, we never get any.  I talked with Jules at Windsor Plywood in Prince Albert and all is OK for our arrival there Thursday evening.  Jerome sprayed all the cabin logs with Clorox and they brightened up considerably.  It took 3 ½ gallons of a 1;1 mixture of water and Clorox.  Jerome shampooed his hair afterwards so his hair wouldn’t blonde out from the over spray and it worked.  Jerome also tied empty Clorox bottles to our floating water line to avoid anyone accidentally running over it as Dr. Pinson did last year.

Jerome then sewed up some of his pants and his sleeping bag and prepared for the planned trip to Prince Albert on Thursday.  I spent most of the day sawing and fitting the west rafter truss and the S.E. diagonal truss.  It was a delightful day to work, no bugs and a pleasant 75 degrees.  Before supper I collected tarps for the Prince Albert trip.  We ended the day with a big meal of hamburgers with all the trimmings.

 

Thursday, June 8, 1995

I woke up first at 4 AM, again at 4:30AM and then got up at 5:10 AM.  Jerome has slept through his watch alarm, set for 5 AM.  There was a light wind from the West with partly cloudy skies and 45 degrees.  We hurried through breakfast and worked through our trip checklist.  At 8 AM we left the island in the new 16’ Lund, towing the 14’ Lund that was loaded with last year’s trash plus the sports canoe.  The routine boat trip got us to the landing by 10:30 AM, using only 6 gallons of gasoline.  We spent 1 ½ hours portaging stuff up to the truck and transferring gasoline from the two 30 gallon drums into two 15 gallon drums, boat cans, empty cans and 10 gallons into the truck for the trip to LaRonge.

The truck door had been left ajar and the battery was dead.  We jumped it with the boat battery to get it started.  The truck generator could be counted on to re-charge the truck battery and there were no further battery problems.

The right trailer spring leafs were spreading apart and we attempted to align them but we were unsuccessful.  We decided that we could more easily accomplish the job at the Turbo Station in LaRonge by loosening the spring “U” bolts.  Things always seem to take longer than planned and our 12-noon departure for LaRonge was later than we had planned.

Don drove to LaRonge, arriving at 4:30, we gassed up, fixed the spring by wrapped it with wire and rope after straightening it and got rid of our trash in the Turbo trash dumpster.  Initially the Turbo owner directed us to the city dump, but changed his mind just as we were leaving.  Don drove to Prince Albert, arriving there about 7:30 PM.  Jules was there at The Windsor Plywood Company and I thought he reminded me of Tom.  They were very accommodating and all their wood products met my quality expectations.  “Say Jules, would you happen to have some scrap wood , a hammer, some nails and a saw so I could build a couple spacers for the trailer to keep the wafer boards from sliding fore and aft ?”, I asked.  “At a lumber yard, we’ve got all that, what size nails would you like?” Jules replied.  “Oh, a few 8 and 10 pennies will do fine”, I answered.  “The saw is in that door and on your right.  Help your self” Jules added.  I could not help but think that this is the way it used to be in the USA before all the lawyers took control and gave us OSHA.  I searched the scrap woodpile for the right length 2 x 4s and then sawed the legs and cleats I needed.  The 2 x 4s were nailed together with cleats and then I added a leg to hold the 2 x 4s in front of and in back of the wafer boards stacked in my 10’ long trailer bed, thus capturing and holding the load centered over the axle.  “Say, Jules, this Canadian hammer doesn’t seem to work like my US model” I joke as I bend over a nail like a real klutz.  “Hey, that’s my Harvey wall-banger’, let me show you how to make it work”, Jules replies as he drives his nail straight and with a lot of authority.  “Thanks, Jules, my problem must be this blind eye” I said, sounding a lot like Fred Bunker in his later years.

Jules positioned a pile of wafer boards behind the trailer with his forklift and we slid the boards horizontally into the trailer.  “Hey, Jules, any chance we can barrow this fork lift for our portage?” I jokingly asked.  “I think we can drive right down that stream bed to the lake”.  “We can’t run this place without it.  The last time it broke down it near put us out of business” he replied rather seriously.  “Well then, maybe you could come along and provide some really good customer service and portage these boards about 150 yards to the lake and then load them in the boats?”, I asked, trying to sound serious.  “Well, you know, I really might enjoy that but my wife complains too much about being gone up North so much”, he responded.  I asked, “Do you like to fish up North?’  “I can’t live this close to it and not spend a lot of time there”, he said.  “What do you like to fish for?” I wondered.  “Northern and Walleye mostly”, he said.  I responded, “Do you mean Jacks and  Pickerel?”  “No, I call them Northerns and Walleyes” he responded.”  “What kind of funny Canadian talk is this anyway?  Besides I haven’t heard you say ‘Eh” once”, I joked.  “Oh, I used to talk that way but my father beat the ‘Eh’ out of me in high school”, he said with a wiry smile.

We had calculated the total weight of what we were going to purchase at 8629 pounds, 56-5/8” wafer board at 3976 lb, 60-½” wafer board at 2700 lbs, 100-5/4” x 12’ deck boards at 1575lbs and 36 –5/4” x 8’ deck boards at 378 lbs.  We planned on making two trips to get the total load.  The trailer was loaded with 2780 pounds plus thirty gallons of gasoline for another 210 pounds was used to get the proper tongue load since I had the option to carry it either in the front or rear of the trailer.  We put 1491 pounds of wafer board in the truck.  While the trailer was grossly overloaded, it had become used to it by now and the rig rode nicely.

At the nearby Burger King we ordered, then asked if they took US currency.  The girl pointed to a sign that said they gave 20% exchange.  This meant they gave you $1.20 Canadian for every$1.00 US.  The official rate was $1.37 Canadian per $1.00 US so they make good money for their trouble.  The bill was $12.68 Canadian.  I gave her $2.68 Canadian and a $20 US bill.  She gave me $10 Canadian change.  “Don’t you owe me $4 Canadian exchange?” I asked.  “Oh, yes you gave me$20 US, so sorry”, she said, genuinely confused and sorry.  We both laughed.  After eating, we gassed the truck and barrels at the station next door.  One thing about gasoline in Canada, it is all the same price in any one town.  Usually the “town price” increases with the distance from the US Border, but not always.  Gasoline in Prince Albert at $.61.5 per liter converts to $1.70 per gallon in US dollars, while gasoline in LaRonge at $.659 converts to $1.83 per gallon.

Jerome drove to LaRonge arriving at 12:30 AM, having a routine trip, except for the sparks behind the truck he saw once.  He had stopped to check the safety chain, to see if it was dragging but it was not, so he assumed the trouble was a cigarette thrown out an oncoming car window.  Unknown to us both, there was something very wrong that we were going to find out about before we got back to the landing.  We needed to stop for gasoline and we were dead tired so we parked into the Turbo parking lot in LaRonge to catch some shut-eye until they opened in the morning.

 

Friday, June 9, 1995

Jerome slept in the front seat (a little bit short but soft) while Don slept on the wafer board (plenty long but hard).  It was a matter of choosing your own poison.  We opened Zesty’s cafe next to the Turbo station and had a good breakfast.  After gassing up the truck and 2 empty gas cans we got a really early start up the road at 8 AM.

The morning air was heavy with smoke from the fires still burning but otherwise it was a nice cloudless day.  Don drove and things were quite normal until about 30 miles north of the cutoff to Southend.  We met an oncoming mining 18-wheeler truck.  We both slowed down and pulled over to our sides of the road. Crunch!!

The trailer sagged and I thought my right trailer tire was flat.  Actually, the whole wheel and tire was off the axle!!!  The lug nuts had worked loose and enlarged the rim lug holes enough until finally, with some side pressure caused by my steering to the right, the tire and rim popped off and the axle into the gravel.   The mining truck passed us then stopped and the driver walked back to see what the problem was.

Amazingly, most of the lug bolts were still usable as were a few of the lug nuts that were still on the bolts.  Our real problem was that our tools were buried under 1491 pounds of wafer board in the back of the truck and we could not get them out without unhooking the trailer which could not be done easily without the tools (jack).  The trucker went to his truck and returned with a 6-ton hydraulic jack and was quickly attempting to jack up the trailer like the missing tire was his personal problem to solve.

Another service truck going our same direction slowed down as he passed us and then pulled over to stop.  He got his jack, some wood cribbing and a spade.  He too started working our problem, wouldn’t have it any other way.  Jerome removed the front gasoline barrel and the spare trailer tire it was resting on.  Don gave word of encouragement and rounded up flat rocks for more shoring.  We barrowed 3 of 8 good nuts from the left trailer tire after I discovered that the truck lugs were too big to use.

The task was made more difficult by the very heavy weight of the trailer and that the axle had dropped so low on the road without having even a flat tire on a wheel to allow clearance to get the required large jack under the axle.  In about one hour we thanked our good Samaritans.  “Well, it might be me broke down someday and needing a hand” one quipped.

Underway, we were feeling mighty happy with our good fortune.  “I was waiting for something like this to happen.  With all the stories of mechanical problems in the earlier years and we didn’t have any last year, so I guess we were due”, Jerome mused.  “I also think I own this one. I was the last person to tighten the lug nuts that came loose, while changing the wheel bearing back in Boulder.”  “And I own some of it for not checking on the nuts”, Don replied, trying to relief Jerome from some of his embarrassment.

Our good luck did not last long!!  Only 3 miles after changing the trailer tire, I slowed, as I always do, going up a very steep hill.  Near the top, an oncoming pickup with a high camper was speeding down the middle of the road and pointed right at us.  He never slowed and my guess is that he never saw us.  I chose to hit the ditch rather than his front bumper.  Luckily I was going no more than 25 MPH and I easily got one wheel on the shoulder and one wheel in the ditch.  Unfortunately, it happened so fast that the trailer overshot and it’s right wheel was six foot ditch side off the road edge where it found a cubic foot sized rock.  It blew the tire and smashed the rim down to the brake drum.

No one stopped to help this time, in fact no one even drove by.  So we unhooked the trailer and pulled out the 24 71-pound sheets of wafer board so we could get to our tools.  My screw jack worked, but not as well as the hydraulic one we had just used.  With no wood blocking, it was an all rock cribbing game.  Fortunately, I had planned for this type of tire problem and made sure that the truck and the trailer would use the same size wheels and tires, so we were able to use the truck spare on the trailer.

As we slowly proceed down the road after another hours delay, we are acutely aware that we have no spare tire and a very poor recent history.  Instead of a 12:30 PM arrival at the landing, it was 2:45 PM and we seemed very tired.  Jerome portaged 24 sheets of the 71 pound 5/8” wafer board and 7 of the 45 pound 7/16” wafer board.  I tried to portage one of the lighter boards and my newly scoped knee rebelled and said NO.  So Jerome dug deep and did it all himself.

Next we carried the two full 15  gallon gas barrels on a portage pole and loaded everything in the boats except 4 of the 71 pound wafer boards.  We were obviously way too heavy and we would have to leave those boards to be picked up later.

“What do you want to do Jerome?  We can sleep here at the landing, in the truck and leave for the island early tomorrow, or leave now and get to the island well after dark.  We can’t safely leave the boats loaded there all night, so all this stuff will have to be unloaded when we get there?”  Jerome responded “I guess I’d just as soon leave now, it will sure get us closer to some food, since I can’t even remember eating breakfast”.  “Good, that is what I was hoping you’d say, lets go”, I said.

We shoved off at 8 PM but it was slow getting all the boats started in a line because we were fighting a head wind in the bay and a very shallow rocky bottom.  Finally, I was able to power up and to my horror, 4 pieced of black bondo popped off the rivets on the splash railing and 4 good sized streams of water started pouring in to the back of my rather heavily loaded boat.

The Bitchathane patch I had put on had obviously ripped off somehow and I now needed 4 wooden pencil-sized plugs in a hurry.  I stopped the motor and turned on the sump pump.  I could see 4 holes but there were 10 other holes that I had patched the same way but were hidden from my view by compartments.  What about them I thought?  I was more panicked inside than I let on.  “Jerome, we need 4 pencil sized plugs to stop the leaking, fast.  Got any ideas?  Fast!!”

Don thought to himself, “Wooden matches from the emergency kit?  No way, too small”.  “How about the rope bag?”  Don asked out loud.  Jerome tossed Don the green rope bag.  The first rope Don saw was a yellow nylon braided one, the kind that unravels and gets a mushroom end on it.  Don had melted the ends and twisted them when soft in a rag.  This formed the ends into a solid cone shape that made the ropes usable, and now to Don’s delight they made excellent hull hole plugs.  He quickly found another short yellow rope with pointed ends and “Whamo”, no more incoming water.  Further examination revealed that the other patches had not been scratched off and were not leaking.

At 8:30 PM we were underway.  The wind stopped as it usually does in the evening and the lake became a mirror like surface.  This is one big reason to travel water at night and sometimes it trumps all other considerations, especially when ‘big water’ is involved or a particularly pesky wind direction.  It was not too cold and a ¾ moon filled the clear sky off to the Southeast.  We seemed to be going slower than usual, not more than 5 MPH, Don estimated.  Then as they passed 4-mile island, Don recalculated how long the trip was going to take and it came out at 4 hours.  Before Don got his GPS unit several years later, he would spend much of the water time trying to make mental calculations to determine ETAs.  This always helped him pass the time, but it frequently resulted in widely divergent answers, probably due to the head math making errors more likely.

At the 7-mile narrows, 4 hours still seemed right, plus the first 6-gallon gas tank might get them to “Half-way Island”.  It did, plus a little more and the 4-hour trip seemed assured.

With just enough twilight, they got around the Northwest point of “Low Island” and down the channel between the Northwest shore and “Ice Island” where they camped last year waiting for the ice to go out.  Now they were in deep water and the increasing darkness no longer much of a problem.  Don could see familiar silhouettes of distant shores and there was no mistaking the outline of Jay’s Island that Don wanted to pass on the right.  Forty-five minutes later they did just that.

Now they were in Don’s own backyard, so to speak, the same route as a trip back to Dancing Loon Island from a fishing excursion to the rapids, something that Don had done hundreds of times.  Even so, in darkness, it is very hard to tell distances, especially with only one working eye.  Don thought, “We are too far East, I better steer left or we will end up on Alligator Rock”.  They past well clear of Alligator Rock, rounded Rose point and the silhouette of Dancing Loon Island came sharply into view.

At 12:20 AM they pulled up to the island.  The floating white buoys helped mark the waterline in the low moonlight.  “You are heading into the bathing rock!”  Jerome shouted.  “Thanks, I see it now”, Don replied.  By 1:15 AM they had the many band-saw parts and wood all unloaded from the boats and covered for the night with tarps.  Jerome, who had carried every piece of wood and most of the band-saw parts went directly to bed, even though he had not eaten since breakfast.  There comes a point of exhaustion when food looses it priority to sleep and Jerome had since passed that point.

Don wanted to go to bed too, but he had 5 very sore cracked fingers that needed attention.  He went first to the cook tent to apply antibiotic cream and bandages to the sore fingers.  Although he could barely wait to get into his sleeping bag, he faced one last problem.  His wet rubber chore boots would not come off his hiking boots.  Unfortunately, the hiking boots shoestrings were tied with double knots and the newly bandaged fingers were not up to the task of undoing the knots.  The ensuing struggle was a bit like a match between Godzilla and King Kong.  Finally, exhausted but free of his boots, Don was able to get into his sleeping bag with just enough time before falling into a deep sleep to hear a loon calling across the lake.

 

Saturday, June 10, 1995.  It was 9 AM before Don was aware it was time to rise.  It was another clear, calm 65-degree F. morning.  Don thought to himself, “This weather must really be feeding the forest fires”.  He went to get milk and eggs from the permafrost cooler for breakfast.  The first person each morning who walks up the trail to the cabin gets to “break trail” through the maze of mostly invisible spider webs that have been constructed across the trail the prior evening by the ambitious spiders.  You do not see most of them but their silky lines tickle your face as you walk along.  They must work at this construction 24 hours a day because even an hour of no traffic is enough time for the trail to collect a noticeable number of spider lines.

It was easy to see that not much work was going to get done this day.  Don repaired the captain’s chair with duct tape and remarked, “That sucker ought to last 20 years now, (it didn’t)”.  Some of the gear hauled in via boat last night got put away, but not all of it.  Jerome assembles two sawhorses with newly arrived metal brackets.  It seems the perfect day to go fishing but the East end of the lake was not productive this day.  Their persistence was rewarded with an overdose of sunshine and this made them doubly tired, both from the long day yesterday and all the bright-reflected sun while fishing.  Don called Betty back in Boulder and found all was well at home.

 

Sunday, June 11, 1995.  Don was up at 7 AM to find another calm, warm morning.  They had agreed yesterday, that the next calm nice day would be used to haul the wafer board left at the landing back to the island.  This was a perfect day to do that.  Don woke Jerome and they had a quick breakfast, leaving the island by 9 AM., towing the 14’ and 16’ Lund17’ Lund.  The yellow ropes still held the water out and the trip across the lake seemed easier to Don. behind the

About 500 yards off shore Jerome asked, “Did you put in the barrel spigot and bung wrench?”  Don always forgets that kind of stuff and replied, “No”.  “I did” Jerome said with a big smile.  Don responded, “Jerome, nobody likes a wise-ass you know, but thanks anyway!”  A minute later, Don exclaimed, “I forgot my sunglasses”, paused, then retorted with a grin, “Oh well, the old-timers never had the luxury of sunglasses either, so I will probably live without them.”  Two miles out Don asked Jerome, “Did you put in the filtered water bottle for portaging?”  From Jerome’s blank look, Don knew they were going back to the island and going through the checklist routine that should have been done in the first place.

The towed boats were left floating where they turned around since it was so clear and calm.  Twenty minutes later they were underway again, this time with filtered water for portaging, sunglasses, tool kit, the emergency camping kit and several other things triggered by the checklist.  The 17’ Lund really moved along with only two people in it and the 30 HP motor full open.  The drifting boars were waiting where they had been left.  With the towline reattached, the flotilla was now underway again for a routine two hour ride to the landing.  It was very unusual to have so many trips across the lake with it being mirror calm.  Don tried to enjoy the pleasure of the good fortune, but with the difficult portage task looming in front of him, he was not able to fully appreciate the calm ride.

Gasoline was transferred from the 30-gallon barrels on the tank trailer to empty 5-gallon cans for the island plus 10 gallons went into the truck for the next trip to LaRonge.  Wafer boards were moved from the trailer parked at the upper parking lot into the truck and then the truck driven to the trailhead. This took 50 yards and a steep hill off the portage task.  Every time Don drives down to the trailhead, he silently thanks Frank Watts for prodding Don into trying this maneuver the first time in 1993.

Don carried the gas cans from the upper landing while Jeromy attacked the 40 pieces of wafer board.  Don picked up loose gear at the parking area and closed up the trailer.  Jerome had collected 8 or 9 boards at lakeside by the time Don started to prepare for loading the boats.  Having no wind certainly made that task much easier.  A couple fat short logs were placed upright against the transom of the 14’ Lund to keep the wafer boards from hitting the 10 HP motor.  Next, a long rope was laid fore and aft, so that once the wafer boards were laid in place, the rope could be tied around the boards and snubbed tightly to the bow for further assurance that the boards would not slide aft into the motor.  A smooth 2” “beaver log” was placed across both the middle and front seats to raise the boards a couple inches off the seat so being jammed against the seat braces would not damage the edges.

Jerome’s next wafer board was delivered directly to the boat.  The boards waiting on shore were then loaded into the boat.  Don kept recalculating in his mind how to distribute the load between boats and finally settled on 12 pieces for the 14’ Lund (it handles 9 pieces plus saw parts the trip before), 18 pieces in the 16’ Lund (14 was no problem last trip).  That left 6-5/8” and 8-7/16” boards, which Don figured, was half the weight of the 5/8” boards.  This meant there was a total weight equal to 10-5/8” boards.

They stopped several times at the small stream crossing the portage trail and drank liberally from the two liter bottle filled with filtered water and now ice cold from the swirling current.  It was so hot that the bugs were not flying and they both agreed that it was a good swap of “evils”.  “Jerome, you look like one of those over-achieving worker ants, coming down the trail carrying a load several times your own body weight!”  Don observed.  “I don’t know why I feel so much better today than the other day.  Why, I could not have lifted another board last time, my arms were so sore.” Jerome said.  “Maybe seeing the end of the pile and not seeing a pile of saw parts has something to do with it”, Don replied.

By 5 PM, the boats were loaded and they shoved off.  The 14’ and 16” Lund were floated as we loaded them, so we knew they were trimmed correctly, which means they tilted up a bit in front.  This makes them tow straight and not plow and dart side to side.  The 17’ Lund had its 14 boards hanging over the bow so there was room in the rear of the boat for Jerome and Don.  Even though all the gas cans were also in the rear, Don wasn’t sure how the trim would be when it was floated free.  Full throttle didn’t lift the bow and the overloaded bow became apparent.  Bilge water shifted forward and compounded the problem and the engine was quickly shut down.  The 16’ Lund was pulled along side and 8-7/16” wafer boards were moved into it.  This caused the 17’ bow to rise and the bilge water moved to the rear of the boat where the pump could expel it.  The 8 pieces were lashed in the 16’ Lund and by 5:30 PM, they were really underway.

The lake was still mirror calm and the temperature comfortable enough for Don to remove his water filled rubber boots and dry his hiking boots and socks.  Motoring past Low Island, fish were poking their heads out of the water 6” to 8”, like porpoise, slurping down May Flies that were floating on the surface.  Don had never seen fish act in this manner before but saw it happen a least ten times along this stretch of lake.  He felt it must be some hybrid type of fish.  By 9 PM they were landed at the island and by 9:30 PM, the boats were unloaded onto the beach.  They were both quite starved.

“I will clean that last fish in the live box if you will go fetch him”, Don offered.  The fish had been in the live box for 5 or 6 days, so they were not sure he was still alive.  He was, Jerome fetched it, Don cleaned it and the fish was delicious, along with fresh fried potatoes, onions and corn.  They both experienced another good night of very sound sleep.

Monday, June 12, 1995

Why was Don surprised to awaken to another hot, calm, hazy day?  Since they worked yesterday, this was to be their Sunday of rest.  The late feast last night negated any desire for breakfast.  Camp chores were done, as was laundry for both Jerome and Don.  About noon, they went fishing near the island.  Jerome loves to catch Northerns by 5:1, while Don prefers to try for walleye.  Don’s first fish was a nice walleye, trolling with a five of diamonds for Northerns west of dancing Loon Island.  “Sometimes you catch walleye, trolling this way” Don said as he reeled in his fish.  They could not yet see the fish, but Don knew from the lack of quick jerks and a deep running line that it would be a walleye.  Fishing was much improved this day and they caught fish everywhere they tried, including east of North Island where Don caught another walleye.  The fish dinner that night was excellent, as was the night sleep.

Tuesday, June 13, 1995

Another warm, calm, lazy day as the sun shines orange because of the smoke and it was so quite you can hear mosquitoes across the lake.  Today the saw pavilion was refurbished with 4 new posts on the low side.  This was made necessary by the saw modifications and higher braces on the loading side of the saw.  The roof was braced with temporary post and lashing, then the old post removed and replaced with longer ones.  “Should we run a string along the top to mark where we want to cut them off?”  Don asked Jerome, not wanting to seem too precise in this “tree house carpentry”.  “It won’t take too long to do that” Jerome replied, so Don happily went up to the cabin site and got the string.  They also nailed 3 rows of longitudinal perlins over the rafters to better support the tarp cover and discourage water from pooling in low spots.  This was the best pavilion structure yet.

All the old sawdust was hauled into the woods and the assembly of the modified saw started.   Each time a part seemed lost, Jerome would find it.  The saw bed went up very level and they stopped for the day and dinner about 7:45 PM.  The carriage bed and post were assembled at this point, along with the new modifications.  Chili was the choice for supper, along with crackers, bread, peanut butter, strawberry honey, milk and canned pears.  Jerome went to read while Don called the Nieburs.

Jay related the bizarre story of Amos Bolen, Jerome’s father being stopped at the border and interrogated for 3 hours and eventually denied entrance into Canada.  Officials were trying to find Jerome and Don because Jerome was thought to need a work permit, which he did not have.  More details of this story would reveal themselves later that summer.  Jay said he would call back about 9:30 PM to verify that they can get through to us by phone.

Don gave Jay the new channel data and the Southend Conservation Officer’s name and phone number.  On the third attempt, Don reached Betty by phone.  She had been called by Amos he night before when he told her of his border crossing problems.  He would not be meeting us in Prince Albert as planned.  “They told me they would throw my ass in jail if I tried to enter Canada” he told Betty.

They had asked how to contact Jerome and Amos said there was no way.  The patrol then searched his truck and found a letter with our mobile phone number.  At this point they thought he was lying and they threw him out.  This Socialistic government is on the wrong track!!  With over $1 tax per gallon of gasoline, 16% sales tax, sagging economy and 81 forest fires, harassing tourist is the wrong thing to be doing.

Why do they think Don’s helpers are being paid?  Don has never had to pay anyone to come to Canada with him.  This is an adventure, good fishing and outdoor camping.  If someone doesn’t see it that way, Don said he didn’t want them along.  How could you pay someone to have fun or what would be fair pay for getting attacked by mosquitoes or missing 2 meals a day?  What is the pay for freezing on a 4 hour wet boat ride in an overloaded boat in too high waves for safe travel?  These people need to get real.

Just look at LaRonge, the only new buildings are those connected to government.  How can people prosper and develop with an oppressive 16% sales tax, high property taxes and high income taxes, which, according to several local businessmen are in combination the highest of any taxing entity in the entire world!!  The government is killing the incentive of its population.

The first summer in Canada it was obvious to Don how segmented and fragmented the population was.  Government, Indians and whites all hating each other to some degree for their own reasons.  Don watched an ancient Indian man wait one hour to pay his $10 fee for something because no one at the Natural Resources Department could speak Cree.  Why should he be required to pay $10 while the government is not required to speak his language?  Ask any merchant about the taxes and regulations they live with and stand back.  The hate and dissension spew forth like Niagara Falls.

Many of the Indians Don talked with, were filled with contempt for the white man.  The white man decided to issue a treaty number to each Indian that allows him to do part of what the Indians could do before being invaded by a white man.  "My father and his father and my father's father all hunted and fished without the treaty number.  It is a worthless thing the white man gives to us.”  Because of this contempt, many Indians sold their treaty numbers to white men.

Now a treaty number exempts its holder from the 16% sales tax.  How do the Indians who sold their treaty numbers feel now?  Get real Canada!  You have a wonderful land and great but diverse people.  Set them free!  You can't tax your self into prosperity; neither could the USA.  Your future is in a free, motivated population not burdened with nonproductive, nonworking, smothering bureaucracy.  The thought of all this made going to sleep hard.  Why, why, why?

 

Wednesday June 14, 1995

The morning is cool, 55 degrees Fahrenheit, clear and with a West breeze.  Don just barely needed a fire but he made a fire anyway just to satisfy his little boy “pyro” tendencies.  The logbook was up-to-dated while Jeremy prepared breakfast.  A decision was made to finish assembling the saw today.

The saw assembly went smoothly and no parts were missing.  Jeremy did find the previously missing post-guide part in the sawdust.  So the replacement part Don made in Boulder while making the saw modifications is now an extra.  Breaks of the game!  The saw was not tested but Don was sure it would cut quite well.  Jeremy assembled the small jointer while Don did the table saw.

“Where shall we store the three toolboxes?”  Don asked Jeremy.  "Well, there are more bolts and nuts on the saw than anywhere else.  How about here near the saw?” Jeremy answered.  "Sounds good to me," Don said, thinking that logic paralleled his own.

Putting the jointer and saw together at the cabin involved several trips down to the saw to get tools.  Later, the large sawhorses were moved from the saw pavilion area into the cabin under the rafter truss main joint to make a work platform.

Don finished his washing by taking his soaking buckets of clothes onto the lake in the sports canoe, anchoring and doing the final wash and rinse there.  It worked quite well.  Don found four bolts to attach the loose splash rail to the 17 ft.  Lund.  Now the boat didn't look quite so shaky as it did with ropes plugging those holes.  Jeremy mixed the gasoline for the trip tomorrow and rounded up gear from our list.  Things get forgotten without a list.  The "going to town list" evolved from several years of experience.

 

1-17 ft. Lund boat

1-16 ft. Lund boat

1- sports canoe

3- 6-gallon gas tanks, mixed (one with spare engine as a contingency in 14 ft. Lund)

etc

etc

 

Every item can be needed in some way for most trips and some emergency type things you hope never are required.

Don called LaRonge to verify that they had a regular 16 inch-8 whole tire rim that could replace the one ruined a few days earlier.  An easy dinner of Beefaroni, bread, peanut butter and jam and fruit was prepared.  Don hung up his laundry and went to bed at 10 PM with it still very light.

Thursday, June 15, 1995

Both Don and Jerome overslept to 5:50AM.  With no breakfast planned they were underway at 7:00 a.m. The checklist insured no turnaround and going back to the island for forgotten necessities.  They arrived at the landing at 9:15M, using 6 gallons plus 20 minutes of a second tank of gas.  After storing the boat gear and a couple portages they got the stuff up to the truck and they were on the road by 10:10 a.m.

An 18 wheeler coming at you over the crest of the hill too fast and on Don's side of the road invoked some swearing by Don and really makes you slow down and pulled right when going up hills.  Driving with no load in the truck or trailer made them almost forgot there was no spare tire for either.  Lady Luck was with them and they arrived in LaRonge about 2:15 p.m. We were searching the road for the Anderson Tire Company but it did not show up along the road by the time we reached the Turbo station so we gassed up, having a usual chit-chat with the station owner.

“Who buys more gas from you?” is Don’s usual inquiry.  Terry smiled.  “We're going to Prince Albert to pickup lumber and wood.  We’ll be back here tomorrow to fill up first thing in the morning. Where is Anderson Tire located?”  Terry answered, “It’s about 2 mi. towards Prince Albert, to the south of the place with all the boats on the right side.”

The large bungs on the two 30 gallon gasoline barrels had shaken out on the trip south so now they had to be replaced.  It was off to Andersen's.  “No, I don't want that 16 inch split rim wheel” Don said.  After a bit of waiting, they came out with a suitable tubeless 16inch rim.  They said it would take an hour to mount the tire.  The tire had to be removed from the ruined rim, and then mounted on the new rim.  “Do you sell lug nuts?”  Don asked.

“No” was the reply.  “We will be back in an hour.  We need to go get breakfast and run errands”, Don said as they left Anderson’s.  “Jerome, for a tire store to not sell lug nuts is like selling hot dogs, but no beer” Don quipped as they got in the Suburban to leave.

At the NAPA store, Don gave the lady clerk a sample of the lug nut he wanted to buy.  She was clueless.  She starts looking at the regular hardware bins but there was nothing there like what was needed.  After much groping about, she found the drawers of lug nuts while Don found a bolt that threaded into the sample lug nut.  In the last compartment of the last drawer she found ten nuts that fit the bolt and are equal in size to the sample lug nut.

Things were starting to go right now.  Jerome picked up four wire splices for the trailer lights that had been flickering for some time at night.  Don paid the bill with a Visa card and they left for Zesty's Restaurant.   Don joked, “I always like to have my Napa before lunch, don't you”.  Jerome didn’t laugh.

At Zesty's, Don requested both regular and breakfast menus.  He decided had decided on French toast.  When Jeremy ordered his old favorite, a hot beef sandwich, Don changed his mind.  “I never like to watch someone else eat something I wished I had ordered,” he said, “so please order me a hot beef sandwich too.  I'm gone over the hardware store and look for a couple barrel bungs.”

No bungs were sold at the store.   “I’ll look around and check out your inventory for future reference,” Don said.  He found a couple sparkplugs for his 30 HP Johnson outboard motor, according to a cross-reference list he found.  The 30 HP is missing a bit now and it is past time to change the plugs, so this would be a timely purchase.  “If these don’t fit in my engine, can I return them?” Don asked.

“Sure, just save your sales slip” was the response.

Back at Zesty’s, the sandwich and milk really did taste good and it seemed to lift their spirits a bit.  On the way back to Anderson’s Tire, they stopped at the bulk petroleum company, looking for barrel bungs.  Don asked the young man, “Could I get a couple barrel bungs from you, either buy or beg?  Mine shook out on the road down from up north and my barrels are rather useless now.  A guy missing two bungs is in pretty bad shape, you know!”

He smiled and walked from the office and into the adjacent shed.  He returned with two new bungs that had nice gaskets.  “Will these do?” he asked, “They are free, my contribution to your good day.”

“Thanks a lot, I sure appreciate the good turn.  You know when you leave your island with no wind in your face that something like loosing your bung(s) is going to happen to compensate for your good fortune.  And that did happen, but this straightens things out again for us again,” Don said.  “What kind of price do you get for your bulk gasoline and how much is your minimum purchase quantity?” Don inquired.

“There isn’t much of a savings and we normally sell to people with fixed tanks of several hundred gallons” he replied.

“How much tax is there on a gallon of gasoline up here now?” Don asked.  “About a $1 a gallon, ain’t it awful!” he exclaimed with a smile.

At Anderson’s, the tire was laying next to the rim, un-mounted, signaling some kind of new problem.  “we don’t have a 16” rim, except this split rim one.  The one we showed you turns out to be a 16 ½” rim.”  he said.

In an agitated tone Don said, “This is why I called you two times, to verify that you had a 16” rim, now you say you don’t have one!  I think I will try somewhere else before I pop for the split rim!”  Kelly, at the Lakeside Esso Station, had indicated by phone that he had a 16” rim but wanted $70 for it.  That was an outrageous price, but now Don was desperate so they drove to the Esso station.  “I called a couple days ago about an 8-hole, 16” used rim,” Don inquired.

“Must have been Kelly you talked with.  Kelly!  A guy called about an 8 hole, 16” rim the other day,” he shouted.  Kelly, the stockcar ice racer known from prior years appears from the back of the station.  “Yea, I got one,” he said.

“What would the price be?” Don asked.  Long pause as Kelly considered what he might be able to get for his rim.   “Oh, about $40 should do it,” he finally replied.   “Sold, if you will mount my tire with a new valve stem” Don countered without hesitation.

“OK,” Kelly responded.  Don followed him out to a shed behind the station.  Kelly tilted up a tire and wheel lying on the ground next to the shed.  “Here she is, gee, its even got a 16” tire on it,” he said.

“Looks good to me,” Don replied.  As Kelly rolled the tire back into the service bay, Don said, “His old lady has been bitching about this old junk tire lying around and cluttering up the place and he then sells the thing to some sucker from the States for $40!  Now you can tell her to stop bitching about it.”  He smiled broadly, “Something like that, Eh?”

The same older mechanic Don knew from 1992 quickly started the process of removing the old tire from the rim.  Kelly told the mechanic to be careful removing the old tire from the rim and not ruin the tube inside.  The humor of the statement was not lost on Don and Jerome as the mechanic continued his rough assault on the tire, obviously chewing up the tube as well as the tire, certainly not the treatment a customer would want of his tire and tube.  “The tube was already torn,” replied the mechanic with a big grin.  Obviously they had had this conversation before, probably selling a lot of extra tubes that way too.

Jerome barrowed their floor jack and put the newly acquired rim and old tire on to the trailer right side and the original truck spare was returned to the truck.  “You saw me torque those nuts, right?” Jeromy said.  Don took the three barrowed lug nuts and replaced them to their original location from where they had been barrowed.  Three new nuts were used on the new rim.  With all known problems solved, they were ready to go to Prince Albert.

“I hope you can get through the road to PA.  It has been closed for fire watch all morning,” Kelly said.   “I think it just opened up,” the mechanic offered.

“ We better get through now after all this messing around,” Don said rather sarcastically, not expecting to get a reply.  “This road block looks more like power line construction,” Don said as they braked for the flagman standing next to several large wire spools in the ditch with wire drooping over the poles.

“This is more than power line work,” Jerome said.  “The road is open to PA right now, just opened, but there is another check point at Hanson’s Road Intersection.  The smoke may be heavy at times but shouldn’t be a problem,” he said as he waved them on.

Finally, we were underway to PA and all there was to worry about was the possibility of getting stopped for fire along the way.  Not!  Another problem developed!  The Suburban started

“missing” and “coughing” when going up hills.  At first, they thought they might just be imagining the problem.

“What do you think Jerome?  The truck did this same thing once back on the gravel road but I wasn’t sure if it was the truck or just a bump.  Oh shit!” Don said in disgust.  Jerome replied, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, we are moving along pretty well and we can deal with it after we get to PA”.

“That sounds like a plan to me,” Don replied as he pulled over to let Jerome drive so he could figure out how to load the trailer.  With Jerome driving, the truck problem seemed to take a major turn for the worse, missing on every little rise in the road.  They stopped again, this time to look under the hood.  No obvious problem was found there.  Don rolled under the truck and tapped the new in-line gas filter he had installed before the trip back in Boulder.  Don switched back to driving and said, “Sometimes my cars act differently when they know I am not driving.  I once had a Model A Ford that never gave me much grief, but when my good buddy Jim Pierce would barrow it, the damn thing would start falling apart”.  Miraculously, they drove 15 miles without a miss, thinking this is just too weird.  Then it started to miss again when going up a steeper hill.  Don found that by easing off the gas pedal, going up the hills, while the truck slowed down, it would not miss.

“The problem has to be a plugged gas line filter, even though it was newly installed back in Boulder,” Don observed.   “Probably is.  We ran it down to near empty twice already and if there is some rust in the bottom of the tank, that would explain the problem,” Jeromy responded.  With nervous confidence we pressed on to PA, still over 100 miles away with nothing but trees and perhaps a fire in between.  They passed the fire checkpoint without delay, so the potential fire problem seemed not to be a concern anymore.  While the “missing” truck was still a problem, Don’s confidence grew, as he was always able to stop the problem by backing off the foot feed.  So even a problem like this one starts to become a non-problem, once it starts acting in a consistent manner.  In fact, preoccupation with the “missing” made Don forget about the tires and trailer bearings that had plagued him in the past.

They arrived in PA at 7:10 PM and stopped at Wal-Mart to purchase 2 new gas line filters along with two oil lamp chimneys, canvas grommets and a Coleman stove toaster.  Jerome walked to Safeway to buy tartar sauce while Don switched the rear 30 gallon barrel to the front of the trailer.  They drove a couple miles to Windsor Plywood and stopped to fill the truck and barrels with gas at the adjacent station.

The pump attendant was bitterly complaining about the benefits paid to Indians and sounded ready to join a revolt.  Jerome called his girlfriend’s Mom and all was well at home.  At Windsor, they told Jerome that Jerome’s Dad, Amos had called earlier and was going to call back at 8:10 PM.  He did.  He was very angry at the Canadian Border Patrol but didn’t want to try to enter Canada again and possible ruin Jerome’s summer.  He instead, had gone to Las Vegas to visit his younger brother Jim and had won $650 on the slots.  Jerome told the men in the store about his fathers’ problems getting into Canada and they seemed very upset with the situation.

The truck was loaded according to the plan Don had devised to get the correct tongue load.  It was just a bit too heavy, so they slip the 33 8’ decking boards on top of the trailer back a few inches and the tongue load was perfect.  A spacer was built to help keep the boards from shifting and Jules banded the decking boards hanging out of the trailer as well as those on top.  Everything was lashed down with ropes from the rope bag.  Jules got Don a nice 2” x 6” x 48” red oak board for a new transom board on the 16’ Lund and was totally helpful as usual in our loading process.  His special education wife, they learned last week, was pregnant with their first child.  What a nice young man, he reminded Don of his son Tom.

Jerome changed out the gas filter and got his armpits “burned” with the raw gasoline spilled in the process.  The old filter was quite plugged; not allowing air to be blown through it, so they felt confident the motor problem had been solved.

At Venice Pizza they filled up on pizza, even buying a doggie bag lunch for the next day.  The truck ran great and there were no sparks showing in the rear view mirror as on the prior trip.  Jerome drove the entire way and they both were wide-awake from all of Jules free coffee at Windsor Plywood.  They arrived at LaRonge at 1 PM and slept in the truck, parked at the Turbo station.

 Friday, June 16, 1995

Zesty’s served their breakfast at 6:45 AM, after which they gassed up the truck and bought 6-1/2 gallons of milk plus 2 bags of ice for the cooler.  It was a record breaking early 7 AM departure from LaRonge and they planned a slower than usual drive up the gravel road in deference to the heavy load and having only one spare tire.  There was a surprising amount of traffic but the slower pace was more relaxing until they started to hear a “hissing” sound.  Quickly stopping, Don found the left rear truck tire was loosing air.  The out rushing air clearly exposed the puncture spot on the tire by removing the dust from that spot.  “Oh shit!  Here we go again,” Don exclaimed.

It was about 20 miles to Brabant Lake and Don wondered if they fixed flats there.  Chris, the owner was a real handyman, owns a Suburban himself and with his “end-of the-line” location must have the opportunity to do a “land office” business in tires, if he is there, that is.  This is something new to worry about for the next 20 miles of gravel, especially since this is historically the roughest section of road.  It only took twenty minutes to change the tire since it had not gone completely flat and they were able to get the jack directly under the axle.  It also helped that the jack and tire wrench were not buried under the load of wood as with the last flat tire.  The mood was somber as they drove north without a spare.

At Brabant Lake, Chris had just returned and did indeed fix flats; that was the good news.  The bad news was that the tire had a 1” split across the puncture and the boot Chris installed may or may not hold up.  It did hold the 75 pounds of air pressure ok, but it may not hold up under a heavy load.  Chris did not have a new tire that size to sell, so there was no alternative than to drive north with fingers crossed.  After a couple sodas, they were on the road north again, still somber, still cautious with 75 miles to go, a full load and a “maybe” spare.

Chris said he was going to sell his place; there was too much retail business to attend to and not enough “guiding” work.  He hoped to make a good profit from the sale because of all the improvements he had made and start fresh further north.

Driving very slowly, we finally reached the Wathaman landing at 2:20 PM.  The tire problems had eaten up 2.5 hours of time.  Driving down the 4-wheel drive road, the resting bracket under the trailer tongue was slightly bent by a rock from the heavy load.  The trailer was parked at the upper level and the truck driven down to the trailhead.  Jerome carried 51 of the 71-pound wafer boards.  Don tried one, but his knee still hadn’t healed enough and so the portage burden fell on Jerome.  Don concentrated on gas cans, ice chest and the lighter, bulky things.

The 14’ Lund was loaded with 780 pounds of wafer board while the 16’ Lund received 1350 pounds of wafer board.  The strapping on the deck boards was cut.  This proved to be a bit dangerous, since the straps, once cut whip up in a very vicious manner and could do major damage to anyone in their way.  The trailer contents were emptied into the truck and the empty gas cans filled from the barrels.  Black flies swarmed at the upper parking area when the trailer was emptied but were absent on the portage.  That phenomenon must have been due to the elevation difference.  In any event, Don and Jerome openly thanked Frank Watts for our ability to drive down to the trailhead and save much portaging and avoiding the swarming black flies.

At 7 PM they decided to load 380 pounds of decking in the 17’ Lund, along with gas cans, cooler and assorted emergency gear.  The 15 Sports canoe was hidden, the truck parked up at the higher parking spot next to the trailer.  By 7:55 PM they were underway with the wind calm to light from the north.  At open water, the wind kicked up a bit but stopped short of whitecaps.  The sky was overcast and quite smoky, making for a much darker trip than last week.

Don did his usual worrying about the over loaded non-buoyant boats he was pulling and the lack of visibility. The wind finally gave up before reaching the Campbell River and the concern about a dark windy landing disappeared with the wind.  Jerome got out his Mag flashlight and they had a calm landing at 12:10AM.  By 1:15 AM they were unloaded and covered up onto the beach.  With only some cold pizza to eat since breakfast, they were famished but exhaustion demanded sleep more than food so they went directly to their tents.  Don remembers opening the tent window and seeing a rising orange moon shine in the tent.  He did not linger, he could have fallen to sleep with a bear in the tent.

Saturday, June 17, 1995

They were up at 7:15 AM with few clouds showing; smoke haze, no wind and 60 degrees F.  Don cleared the table with its usual jumble of  “lay-me-downs” and updated his journal.  He next prepared two buckets of laundry for soaking and then went back to writing in his journal.  Jerome prepared a fabulous breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes and fresh cool milk.  Don did the dishes and emptied 4 mousetraps of four dead mice.  There is an unlimited supply of these critters, probably from all the good nourishment they receive.  One of the four traps broke and could not be re-bated.  Don returned the long lost starter enable-clip to the 10 HP outboard which is perhaps the worlds worst design ever devised by a lawer..

In spite of the temperature rising to 85 degrees, Don had a lot of energy and planned an ambitious work schedule for the day.  Don put away his finished laundry of several days ago and finishes the two new buckets started today by wading out into the lake to the bathing rock.  There he did the final agitation and brushing of the clothes.  Finally, he did the last rinse.  Jerome was sunbathing on the bathing rock and Don feared he was getting another burn.

The cook tent counter, especially that closest to the exit is always the last to be subjected to Don’s infrequent spurts of organization, but today that happened.  More nails for hanging things went into the cook tent wall poles and most items were neatly hung in easy view.  Other items got moved to their “real” storage spot in the storage annex, tool shed or tents.  The woodpile on the beach was covered with clear plastic in a fashion much better than the hasty use of smaller tarps the night (morning) before.

Jerome moved the stake used to anchor the water pipe intake to a spot straight out from the bathing rock.  The inlet valve had dropped onto the sandy lake bottom and was restricting the inflow of water.  Positioning the inlet valve to just below the water’s surface restored proper operation of the “pitcher” hand pump in the cook tent.  Additionally, the relocated post will help navigate a dark night landing on the beach should this become necessary in the future.  An empty Clorox bottle was attached to the water line midway between the inlet post and the bathing rock as a float while the fish box was relocated just north of the bathing rock.  This change greatly improved the ease with which fish were put into the box directly from a returning boat.  Both Don and Jerome noted how much easier these alterations were made by being in the water as opposed to working from a boat.

Jerome filtered 5 gallons of water.  The new electric filter system in combination with the 5-gallon cooler donated by big Dave make a convenient combination.  Don spent an hour moving rocks from the approach to the boat landing and then took a bath in the lake and had a swim to rinse off the shampoo.  They had an easy supper and Don went to his tent to better organize things.  By 8:30 PM he was in his sleeping bag and ready to finish the job of catching up on sleep missed in the days just past.

 Sunday, June 18, 1995

Not surprising, the sky was filled with smoke haze but no clouds.  It was 60 degrees with a gentle soft breeze from the Southwest when Don got up at 6:30 AM.  He turned the mobile phone on, hoping for a call from Betty.  Only the gentle lapping of water on the shore breaks the silence.  The solitude conveyed by the unhurried water lapping reminds Don why he is there.

Don checks his hanging laundry from yesterday.  Only the heavy sweatshirts seem a little damp; he makes a mental note that it should all be ready to take down by noon.   The distant thundering last night produced only a few drops of rain.  He thought that they could really use a good rain to lower the forest fire danger and help sustain the lake water level.  The lake had not dropped a noticeable amount since arriving but that seemed the natural tendency.

The day’s plan called for a big breakfast and a few telephone calls, then a trip back to the landing in the 17’ and 16’ Lund’s to retrieve the balance of the wood and gasoline supplies.  At the landing there were 100-16 pound 12’ deck boards to portage, gas to empty from the 30-gallon drums into smaller 15 gallon drums that could then be portaged to the boats.  The sports canoe hidden at the landing would be towed back to the island.  This last hard day of work would set the stage for a serious period of cabin building that was always more enjoyable than the grunt work of re-supply.  The only need for more boating would be for fishing and that was even more fun than cabin building.

As expected, Betty called and was surprised at how easily she got connected.  The problem is that the operators are not properly trained to handle incoming mobile phone calls.  The operator now asked for the city being called, Betty replied “Kane Lake”.  After saying their “Hello’s”, the connection was broken.  Don tried calling Betty but the line was busy.  After a short wait, Betty got through.  Things were their usual “fine” in Boulder, Betty was playing a lot of tennis, although Thursday evening they closed down the Harvest House courts due to the possibility of flash flood danger created by 90 degree temperatures melting snow in the mountains.  Her tournament match was halted and would be rescheduled at a later Date.   Don relayed all the details of their second PA trip and agreed to call her at Clear Lake on the coming Sunday between 7 and 8 AM Mountain Time.

Don started breakfast and then called to Jerome, who was in progress of getting up.  Pancakes, bacon and eggs plus cool fresh milk tasted especially good since the difficulty of the days work would progress solely on the energy derived from that meal.  “These are Norwegian blonde pancakes, just the way you like them Jerome.  No oil, thick, fluffy and not cooked too hard.  They are a real unimaginative “doughy”, “fluffy” restaurant cake,” Don said.  Jerome gave Don his standard “give-me-a-break” look.

“I am going to make a crude tiller handle, will you get the boats ready with our “short list”, since we are not going to town?” Don asked.  Jerome nodded and they were both off to their respective work.  Don washed the breakfast dishes, and then went up to the cabin site to search the scrap woodpile for just the right piece of wood for his project.  Too long, too short, split, no square end, all reject criterion were considered as he selected his wood scraps.  In the piece to be attached to the tiller handle, he routed out a handle matching round grove with the chain saw, now his tool of choice on the island and drilled two holes for screws to attach it to a perpendicular handle.  This was accomplished with some glue and two 2 ½” deck screws.  He put away his tools and took the new creation down to the boats.  Don spit some duct tape to be used to attach the handle to the tiller.  “Jerome, there is one universal rule about duct tape.  It always manages to fold over onto itself and stick together before it gets put in place, Damn!” he said in disgust as he struggled to separate the now mangled pieces of tape.  “There, this is one ugly piece of work, but you know, I really think it is going to work well,” Don commented as he surveyed the completed assembly.  The project was born out of necessity.  During the long four-hour boat rides, the driver is required to keep the throttle twisted open against a constant spring pressure, causing pain in the wrist, especially one that has suffered Carpel Tunnel Syndrome.  Some corporate lawyer has determined that an untouched throttle should automatically return to idle.  Perhaps he figured the lawsuits from carpel tunnel would be less expensive that other boating accidents caused by a full throttle.  It wasn’t always this way and Don did not care for the change in philosophy.  “We shall see, we shall see,” lamented Don as they went about their final preparations.

Jerome had the hood off the 30 HP Johnson and was preparing to change the spark plugs.  “Can I get you a socket wrench for that?” Don asked Jerome who had a crescent wrench in his hand.

“Yea, this sure won’t work,” he replied.

“Fortunately, the wrenches are close by the saw pavilion,” Don joked, thinking how much of a pain that location was the other day when wrenches were needed at the cabin.  Don handed Jerome a socket that fit the plug.  After Jerome tried the socket he said, “I need a thin wall socket, there isn’t enough room for this one.”

“We have one,” Don said, hoping his old plug socket was the right size.  It was their lucky day, the plugs socket fit.  “Here, try this,” Don said as he handed the socket to Jerome.  “Save the old plugs, I want to check their condition and use them as spares” he continued.

Soon they shoved off into an incoming Southwest breeze.  The engine came alive and they were off to the landing in the 17’ Lund, towing the 16’ boat behind them.  “The engine doesn’t feel too good, I think we have a problem,” Don said to Jerome, thinking that a spark plug wire may be off a plug.

Jerome grinned, “I think I left one of the plug wires off.”  The motor hood was removed and revealed that indeed, one plug wire was hanging unattached.  Don attached the loose wire and replaced the hood.  The engine came alive and with the throttle wide open the empty boats jumped forward in an expected manner.  It was 9:30 AM and this was a good start for their day’s work.  The 17” Lund came up to a plane, even though it was towing the 16’ Lund.  By noon and with some gas left in the original 6-gallon tank, they arrived at the landing.  The throttle handle worked quite well and Don thought he could probably sell a well-made version of it.

After pulling the boats up on logs to their now reserved parking spots, they started to haul empty cans, funnel and barrel wrench up to the trailer.  Don opened the truck and retrieved the long nosed funnel for filling the truck gas tank.  After filling the tanks at the trailer, Jerome carried the tanks two at a time while Don carried only one.  The sports canoe was loaded with 575 pounds of deck boards while 1024 pounds were loaded in the 16’ Lund.  Both craft were trimmed with the stern lower in the water in order to make them tow straight.  During the portaging, they made frequent stops for a drink of cold filtered water at the stream where they had placed their two two-liter bottles.   This system really works well.

Jerome carried the boards 6 at a time (94 lbs.) while Don carried 4 (64 lbs.).  Don didn’t like not carrying his full share of the load, but the knees just wouldn’t cooperate with his brain.  He thought back to many of the portages taken with Dad Marble and Chuck Olson.  He was a young man then and worked hard at carrying much more than anyone else, recognizing the difference in age.  Now things were reversed and he didn’t particularly like the situation but realized he better get used to his reduced carrying capacity because it seemed unlikely to change.

By 3 PM they were underway back to the island.  The wind had shifted to come out of the Northeast but it was fairly light.  This would not be a problem unless it decided to blow hard.  The wind cooperated, actually going completely calm after a few miles.  Clouds were moving quickly from the south to the north while the surface wind was calm.  Weather in the North, especially since it has such a big impact on activities can seem really weird at times.  Upon reaching four-mile island, Don had calculated the trip would take a little under four hours, not too bad.  Jerome had finished reading his book, “The Great Santini” and was now reading the bible.  “Allison will be happy,” he had said.

The lake became like a mirror and steering the boat was effortless.  The tiller handle worked great and Don kept thinking about how to commercially develop the idea.  If you had an adjustable weight at the end of the handle, it would offset the torque built into the throttle control that returns the throttle to an idle.  Not much weight would be needed.  The crudely made prototype handle pretty well accomplished that now, allowing Don to not even hold the tiller and only make direction changes as required.

Not out of character, the wind picked up when there was only a mile left to get to the island.  Mother Nature was reminding the boaters of her power again but stopped short of making whitecaps.  The beach was sheltered from the wind and that made an easy landing and off loading.  “Shall we eat, shower or go fishing?” Don asked Jerome.  “Let’s eat, I am rather hungry,” he replied.  “How about a fish dinner?” Don asked.  “I will go get the fish out of the box,” Jerome replied.

As Don took down his dry laundry, Jerome said, “Cancel the fish dinner, our last fish got loose while I was netting him.  How about Chili?”

“Sounds good to me,” Don responded.  “That shower you mentioned sounds pretty good too,” said Jerome, “I think I will have one before we go fishing.  OK?’

“OK”, Don replied.  After supper and showers they dropped off the bucket of old fish guts and dead mice on Salt Lick Point and then went fishing at Indian Island.  Thunder was increasing in the south and the wind was making fishing difficult.  After 20 minutes Jerome asked, “Maybe we should go in or do you think this will make the fish really bite good?”

Since they were only catching “snakes”, Don said, “Let’s go in.”  Shortly after returning to the island the sky got very dark and the lightning and resulting thunder became quite frenzied.  Jerome went to his tent while Don medicated his eyes and did the supper dishes.  He blew out the oil lamp, lay down on the bench and watched the fireworks in the dark.  After 45 minutes, he dashed to his tent and continued to watch the show of pyrotechnics.  Soon he went to sleep.

Monday, June 19, 1995

Don arose at 7 AM to a dark foggy sky, light wind and a 50 degrees temperature.  As Don turned the phone on, he heard a flight of geese plus local ducks, what great music.  How do these bird find their way in the fog and rain?  Don updated his journal and then fixed a big breakfast of 2 eggs, 3 bacon, 2 pancakes, coffee and fresh milk.  The warm stove felt good.  More geese were heard overhead.  Don decided to do a few odd jobs, more laundry, wood carving and list making.

Jerome got up around 9:30 AM, stoked the fire, made his breakfast, did the dishes and read his bible.  The clear plastic Jerome fixed yesterday was now torn worse than ever by last night’s storm.  Don rounded up the ladder, nails, tin caps and fixed it again.  About 2:30 PM Don said, “Jerome, I have decided to make yesterday Monday since we worked so hard and today will be Sunday, since we are not doing too much work.  I love to go fishing on Sundays, don’t you agree we should go fishing this Sunday?”  Jerome agreed so they left to go fishing at the rapids.

There was a tail wind pushing waves in the direction of the rapids, just short of white caps.  The near empty boat flew across the top of the waves and it only took us 20 minutes to reach the rapids.  It took four hours for them to figure out that the fish were not going to bite.  Jerome caught a walleye right away but then nothing but snakes wanted to bite.  Don caught a white fish near the south point to the rapids entrance.  We still have not caught a female walleye.

By 8:30 PM the supper was finished and we judged the white fish to be 90 percent as good as walleye.  Jerome got to talk with Alison who has just moved into their new apartment.  It sounded like a few things were still not done but everything was under control.  As much as Jerome loves to fish, his animated mannerism when talking about Alison makes it obvious how fishing is number two in his life.  After dishes, we both went to our tents early to read or sleep.

Don attempted to draw a picture in his journal of the white bloom of the Labrador Tea bush that cover the island.  Under Don’s 10x eye loop it is even more beautiful with great intricate lace-like detail.  It seems to grow in the better lighted areas and makes the ground appear to be covered with snow by its dense white blooms.  Before going to sleep, Don thinks that if the weather will allow it, they should be able to start serious cabin work tomorrow.  He will work on the porch walls while Jerome saws a few more 2 x 4s and carries wood

 Tuesday, June 20, 1995

Don was up at 6:50 AM, with calm wind, 57 degrees, mostly cloudy but with occasional patches of sunlight.  Today they feel like some serious progress will get done.  No new mice have been caught for three days, either they don’t like the bait or they really have been trapped out of their little area.  Not likely!  Work got started about 9:30 AM.  Storage spots for the new lumber were selected based on three factors: 1. Not being in the way of some future activity that would require it to be moved or worked around.  2.  Ability to store the lumber properly (flat).  3.  Ease of access.

Jerome started to carry lumber while Don uncovered the mudroom floor and started to round up wall post and finalize log selection for rafter truss.  Don opened up the crypt and lowered two 2-liter bottles of filtered water into the pool of cold water.  That cool water sure did taste good during the warm days.  Don needed to cut a special corner post on the band saw.  It cut so good that he decided to try trimming down the twisted wall post with the band saw rather than plane it with the chain saw.  It worked great.

About 5:30 PM Jerome had finished carrying one pile of lumber from the beach and the #2 PA trip.  It was all nicely stacked and covered next to the cabin.  Don got a good picture of Jerome carrying wafer board up the trail to the cabin.  Jerome was bushed and took a shower.  Don was still sawing but got stopped by rain showers that lasted into the night.  They had had a good first day of cabin work but were tired, too tired for a large supper.  Chicken noodle soup with a can of chicken added was just right.  Jerome got to bed about 6:45 PM, even though his mind thought to be too early, his body said otherwise.

Don called Tom and Jim on the mobile phone and had a difficult time making the connections but persistence won out.  He enjoys those talks a great deal, more because they are sons than because they are in civilization.  About 10 PM he got to bed and fell asleep immediately.  There was no list making that evening.

June 21, 1995

Don awoke at 5 AM but enjoyed just laying in the sleeping bag until he arose at 6 AM, eager to get started on the work of the new day.  The sky is clear, no smoke, no clouds, calm and 50 degrees.  Not even water lapping at the shore intruded on the stillness of the morning.  A loon claimed his territory and some ducks seem giddiest about something.  A fire in the stove felt good and provided a nice ambience.  A coat would provide enough warmth but it would do nothing for the ambience.  Regular dish washing and use of hand lotion have made Don’s hands feel really good for a change.  Jim’s advice on skin moisture control remains solid.  Breakfast and chores keep them busy until 9:45 AM.

Jerome uncovered the last pile of wood on the beach (from PA trip #1) and started his one-man “ant convoy” from the beach to the cabin site.  Don uncovered mud room area and scrounged flooring to finish the last two floorboards on the west side.  This required Don to start the generator.  After several pulls on the starter cord that failed to result in the desired result, Don made a few threats to throw the generator into the lake, but that worked no better.  Finally, a 1/4^th turn of the gasoline mix screw and a pull of the starter cord resulted in the generator coming to life. Don trimmed the needed boards to size and fixed them in place with deck screws

Don joined Jerome on the convey trail, except he was carrying up the eight wall post he trimmed on the saw yesterday and the four beam logs, including the 120 pound one Jerome helped carry down the trail yesterday.  Don wondered to himself, “If only my Orthopedic Surgeon could see me now.”  These logs were getting to be well traveled.  Wall plate 2 x 4s were now needed so it was time to cut some with the band saw.  He started the saw and cut 6 12’ 2 x 4s, thinking it was nice to be able to turn logs into the construction material that was desired however these are the times you realize how much work is done on lumber by the time you get it at the lumber yard!

Jerome finished portaging the wood from the beach and took over sawing last couple 2 x 4s as a training exercise on the refurbished saw.  A wave of thunder showers interrupeds all work and the men rush up to the cabin site to cover up the new wood pile, generator and to pick up tools but not before everything got a little bit wet. It is quite inefficient not yet having a roof over our heads at the cabin.    They returned to the cook tent to wait out the rain.

Jerome said, “I want to make a list of questions and see how different churches answer them.  I am really going to be disappointed if Moses dies in the book he wrote.”

Don responded, “I understand there is considerable debate among biblical scholars about who really wrote many of the books of the bible.  But, a Protestant biblical scholar has also told me in the early 1970s that it is impossible to get into an argument with other Christian scholars about the meaning of the scriptures.”

Jerome looked puzzled.  “Only 50 or 100 years ago, the differences between Christian faiths was significant, often heated and hateful, both at the intellectual and parishioners levels” he said.

“At an intellectual level, these differences have all but vanished, there has been a coming together on all sides.  Some progress has been made at the lay level, but there is still a way to go.  You still have the violence in Ireland, which is quite a disgrace, but generally you don’t have many big issues separating the denominations.  So my guess is that biblical scholars from different faiths would answer your bible questions with very little differences.  Answers from lay people of different faiths may vary significantly.”

From here on I need to do some more wortk on the story

 

“many of the people who go to Alison’s church, as soon as they leave church, will do anything they want, steal, cheat, lie or gossip.

 

 

We also spent two weeks truing up the twisted rafters.  We spent the rest of the summer installing the roof decking, tarpaper and siding sheathing.  Jay joined us later in July, but Jerome’s dad could not get into Canada as planned.  Gord and young friend Ernest pulled to shore on the island in their canoe.  I invited them into the cook tent for a snack and some coffee.  Gord is very intelligent and well educated.  He lives in Stanley Mission, he is married to a Cree woman named Isabelle and they have 2 boys.  He also has a television dish and gets all the US programming.  As a result, he is very well informed about our politics and enjoys talking about it.  He also likes to joke and push the idea of the mocho Indian.  One who travels the lakes and rivers with no map, rifle at his side, ready to claim a moose or bear at any moment., never caring about time of day or day of year.  Ernest, who spoke no English, sat at our cook table, patiently waiting as though for his turn to speak, but of course he never did, except for a few Cree words between him and Gord, with Gord telling him the gist of what had been said.  I noticed that Ernest was wearing a very fancy Timex watch, illuminated dial and all, while Gord was telling how the Indian didn’t keep track of time.  I reached over and held Ernest's arm up into the air to show off his fancy watch as wondered aloud “Ernest must not be a real Indian”.  We all laughed but Gord laughed the most.

Don boated Jay and Jerome back to the landing and hid the boat and motor two miles down stream and returned to the landing area where he hid the sports canoe.  Jay, Don and  Jerome drove back to Boulder.  Don drove on to Clear Lake for family time at the cabin there.   Betty and Betty’s older sister Shirley and Don left  Clear Lake for Canada and drove diagonally through the Dakotas into Saskatchewan.  They continued north of Regina on the normal route to LaRonge where they met Don’s son Tom.  They continued north, packed rather tightly into Don’s Sentra.  At the Wathaman River, they drove the Sentra up the 4-wheel road only as far as the high ridge and that required that they portage their gear about 3/8ths of as mile to the lake.  Betty complained about this arrangement and driving the Suburban north probably would have been a better choice.  The hidden boats were retrieved and the trip to the island was without problem.  Work on wall sheeting and log trusses was continued and a documentary video made by Betty and Shirley draws a lot of laughs.  After two weeks, camp was broken for the summer any an uneventful trip made to Boulder.  Tom drove back home to Washington State.