?`s and ANNEswers

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Seduced

Posted on August 7, 2008

One week ago today we were winding down our visit to Wollaston Lake Lodge in upper Saskatchewan, Canada. By now we were long off the water and having a farewell dinner with our guide, Blackee. The sun was setting, the air was cooling, and we were definitely in a reminiscing mode.

Since then, we’ve returned to our regular routine. But I find myself still longing for the solitude and simple beauty that is our annual summer fishing retreat. Earl and I have traveled several times to the Caribbean, explored Costa Rica and Tahiti, been to Alaska on the longest day of the year when the sun never sets, traversed the Panama Canal.

Each of those excursions was wonderful in its way, but if I had to pick the vacation I liked best it would be Wollaston Lake Lodge. I’m not even sure I can put the “Why” into words. Maybe it’s because fishing is so different from anything I’ve every attempted. Maybe it’s because I’m not connected with the world-at-large there, and this reminds me of how it was when I was young. (We didn’t have Internet then.) Maybe, maybe, maybe. Who knows?

I only know I can’t wait to return next summer.

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Conflicted

Posted on August 4, 2008

After vacationing for the past couple weeks, I’m home in my default life, the one I participate in when we’re not traveling. I’m the first to admit it’s a great life, with little of the stresses I’ve encountered raising children and making ends meet and finding time to myself. Yet, there’s one thing I’ve noticed lately.

I have so many interests that it’s difficult to find time to work on any one of them with intensity. I love to crochet, read, practice piano, kayak, garden, work out, and write. All of these things could become the Number One Passion, if it weren’t for the others wanting equal time.

So I suspect I’ll never be Olympic quality in any of these passions, since I can’t find the single one I want to devote most of my free time to. I love them all.

Which suggests I’m a generalist, somebody who owns a smattering of information about a lot of different things rather than an exacting library of knowledge about one thing to the exclusion of others.

Truth is, I’ve always known this. It makes me feel conflicted at times, but it is never boring.

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Shore Lunch

Posted on July 31, 2008

It’s our last day at Wollaston Lake Lodge, and I’m reminiscing about the food. About shore lunch, in particular. At home, what passes for my lunch is usually a protein bar or an apple while I continue to work. But here, lunch competes with dinner as an event of its own.

Shore lunch revolves around the first fish caught each day. If it’s large enough to cook, its life ends with a bonk on the head. (The second fish of the day doesn’t know how lucky it is.) Our guide then cleans the fish and waits until we decide we’re hungry. By noon our appetites are keen.

We tie up on some remote island or bay and head for the rest rooms, while our guide searches for dry wood to build a fire. (One thing I’ll say about “rest rooms” in the wilderness: there’s no line of antsy ladies to contend with.) The staff back at the lodge has sent along all the ingredients for a wonderful meal, and the guide creates one specialty after another. In the eight days we’ve been here, our shore lunches have ranged from stir fry teriyaki (made with fish, of course) to a traditional baked fish to pike pizza to fish chowder. Side dishes include the most delicious French fries ever, baked beans, sautйed onions and mushrooms, corn, you name it.


By the time we’ve devoured seconds, there’s no room for the homemade cookies which are dessert. In fact, dessert has never even factored into shore lunch for me. That is, until today when I learned the guide can also do a fresh apple crisp, or roasted bananas with chocolate sauce, or a fruit compote — all on the embers of the dying fire.

Knowing this, when we return next year I plan to have one shore lunch that begins with dessert. In fact, maybe I’ll have our guide make them all. I also learned that if you mix Clamato juice with beer you get a delightful beverage that goes well with any fish dish. We’re not waiting till next year to fix this for ourselves.

My only wish is that the guides at Wollaston Lake Lodge would consider putting a Shore Lunch Cookbook together. I’d be willing to volunteer as a food taste tester, and I’m positive it would be a money maker.

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Hooked

Posted on July 30, 2008

I’m sitting in the lodge after a full day on the river ferreting fish. Tomorrow is our last day here; we return to normal life with computers and cellphones and fax machines instead of fishing rods and reels and lures. I never thought I’d miss the latter. But I think I will.

What have I learned these past few days? Well, I’ve certainly improved my technical skills on a scale of one to ten. I’m at least in the middle range. I’ve caught one of each species of fish up here, called the Grand Slam, and I have a trophy mug to show for it.

I’ve become comfortable with tiny fly-out planes and tinier boats and big fish and even bigger desires. For instance, when Earl catches a really big fish, he then wants a bigger one. I say to him, “Relish this fish”; and he says,”I’m relishing.” But I know he’s thinking of bigger trophies tomorrow. As for me, I’m still relishing the fact that I caught a fish in the first place.

It’s taken Earl only a dozen years and thousands of dollars to make me a fishing enthusiast. But he’s always been patient in that regard, and I think it’s paying off. I can’t wait to get out on the water tomorrow, our last day this year, to cast for fish, cruise in the boat, have our last shore lunch of 2008, and maybe — just maybe — catch a BIG one. You might say I’m hooked.

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Day Two, Again

Posted on July 29, 2008

Earl and Blackee, our guide, are out fishing their heads off, but I’m taking a break. After yesterday’s trophy fish day, my arms and legs are talking to me and saying, “Don’t you dare get in that boat!” I obeyed.

It’s Day Two of our second session, with Day Four sneaking up. Then it will be time to leave. This is not an inexpensive vacation; and before we arrived, Earl and I had pretty much agreed we wouldn’t return next summer. But our resolve has faded, and we’re signing up again tonight.

Cost of bug spray: $2.45

Cost of airline ticket to get here: $650.00 each

Cost of entire trip: You don’t want to know.

Cost of the memories: Well, this is the part where that credit card commercial inserts “Priceless.”

I disagree. “Priceless” is a vague number used to encourage maximum credit card usage and then justify it. It may be less sentimental, but I prefer to evaluate the cost of the memories against the actual cost involved. That we’re coming back next summer says it all.

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Fish On!

Posted on July 28, 2008

It was a terrific day! Earl and I both caught what are deemed “trophy” fish, meaning each is over forty inches in length.

But what was even more satisfying to me was that I finally began to understand the logistics, the technique, and the skill involved in catching a fish. It is so much more than tossing a pole in the water and hoping for the best.

It requires being comfortable in a boat, casting without scratching your boatmates with your lure, and recognizing when you have to set the hook. This latter occurs when a fish actually is attracted to your lure and you must make sure the lure hooks a part of the fish in such a way as to insure no escape. Imagine a giant hook grabbing the inside of your mouth and protruding out your cheek and you have the idea.

An accomplished fisherperson sets the hook on instinct; but a novice, like myself, struggles. It’s because I can’t always tell when a fish is toying with my lure, so I’m slow to react in the hook setting process. But after today, I’ll be better. I caught four large fish in a row, so each catch helped reinforce what I’d learned as much as it helped me claim some bragging rights.

In fact, one of my fish showed up on the Bragging Board, that daily chronicle of who caught what here at Wollaston Lake Lodge. I felt very proud. In yoga terms, I felt one with my fish.

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What Day Is It?

Posted on July 27, 2008

I don’t know how many days we have been at Wollaston Lake Lodge; because, truthfully, I’ve lost track of time. The staff says it’s Day Four, because the lodge’s calendar is broken into four-day weeks. Guests usually stay four days, which wreaks havoc with a regular calendar and makes specific dates and days meaningless.

So if it’s Day Four today, then tomorrow is Day One. The current guests leave bright and early and are replaced by new ones. Except Earl and I signed up for two sessions. So we’ll sleep in during the “bright and early” departure and be ready to greet incoming guests around 8:30 AM.

I remember our first time here three years ago. It was all new and impressive: the rustic lodge with every amenity; the comfortable cabins; the gourmet meals; and the real reason people come: the fish. But there is an advantage to being a return visitor; you understand the rhythym of the lodge’s routine better, because it takes a little getting used to.

For instance, the schedule is such that guests arriving on Day One settle in early enough to get a full day of fishing in before evening. This is a plus, but it can also be tiring, since everyone has gotten up at 4:30 in the morning to catch the charter for the lodge. Returning guests understand it’s a long day, and plan accordingly. For us, it meant going to bed early a couple nights before arriving.

In addition, there’s shore lunch — on top of a full breakfast — followed by a three course dinner with wine.
It’s difficult not to gain weight on those four days, because missing any of those meals means missing wonderful food. This morning, for instance, there was banana French toast and blueberry pancakes on the menu. I didn’t go fishing or I wouldn’t be writing this, but I’m positive shore lunch included fresh fish (caught this very morning), French fries, onion and mushroom sautee, corn, baked beans, and lodge-made cookies for dessert. Or maybe it was teriyaki fish stir fry, all prepared by your guide while you watch.

Of course, there are the wilderness annoyances too. Black flies leave a mean bite, sunburned faces tell you who didn’t use enough sun screen, and it’s always the really BIG fish that got away. Regardless, those are small prices to pay for forgetting one’s homeland routine and having to ask, “What day is it?”

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Wonderful Wilderness

Posted on July 22, 2008

I’m not much for camping, having already gotten it out of my system in a former life. Unlike most vacations where you leave everything behind, camping requires you bring it all with you. The food, the accommodations, the bug spray. And you leave all the amenities behind. Hot showers, electricity for reading at night, ice cubes.

Nevertheless, Earl and I leave tomorrow for a style of camping I find most rewarding and relaxing. We’re taking our annual few days at Wollaston Lake Lodge in upper Saskatchewan. It’s a fishing lodge plunked in the middle of northern Canada several hundred miles from the closest paved road. But, it’s directly under the Aurora Borealis so there’s the potential of a nightly firework show presented by the Creator. I’d give up hot showers for that.

Except I don’t have to. This lodge is definitely five stars. We have our own cabin replete with hot showers, electricity, and ice cubes. In the main lodge, we have a chef who prepares gourmet dinners and a staff that does the dishes. Should I also mention the masseuse and the pre-dinner appetizers and the hot coffee delivered to your cabin in the morning?

Each day is occupied with fishing with our own guide in our own boat. At lunchtime, he cooks a meal fit for a king over a campfire, while we loll around taking in the scenery. If we want a beer, it’s there for the asking. If we want second helpings of anything — beer or victuals — they’re available too.

This was all Earl’s idea, because he wanted to fish in northern Canada while I preferred to visit museums in big American cities. So he researched various lodges and came up with Wollaston because it was “female friendly.” The first year we went, I was skeptical. But, after five days in the pristine wilderness, I was the one who signed us up for a return visit before we left to come home.

We live on the St. Joseph River in Michigan, and I would no more drink that water than I would drink sludge. But when we were at Wollaston we could dip a cup into any body of water we were fishing in and have a wonderful, cold drink. That’s what real camping, regardless of the accouterments, is about.

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Nonfiction

Posted on July 21, 2008

I’m not really into nonfiction. Contemporary, often discardable, novels are more my genre for pleasure reading. However, I recently had the occasion to read two nonfiction books back to back. They were The Open Road: The Global Journey of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama by Pico Iyer and The Post-American World by Fareed Zakaria.

There is no comparison between these two books. Well, yes there is. Both explore contemporary political problems. The Iyer book examines the current Dalai Lama’s predicament of representing the old Tibetan order while having lived in exile from Tibet for fifty years and realizing that the world has changed. The Zacharia book examines how the United State can best operate in a world where other countries are beginning to assume center stage. So I guess both are ultimately about change.

Where I find no comparison is possible is in the writing style. One of the books clearly grabbed me and I held on for every word. The other was a difficult plod through muddy writing and mucky discourse. I never felt engaged.

Which book was which? I’m not saying, because maybe you’ll check them out for yourself. I only know both authors have written other books, and I plan to track down the work of one of them. And, maybe I’ll become more interested in nonfiction in the deal.

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Scripts

Posted on July 20, 2008

A year or so ago, a new pharmacy opened in my neighborhood. Called Scripts, it seemed unlikely to compete with such mega-pharmacies at Walgreen’s or Rite-Aid; and I wondered if it would survive. For example, it wasn’t open 24/7; in fact, it wasn’t open at all on Sunday.

However, my doctor — whose office is less than half a mile from Scripts — recently sent a Hepatitis A&B prescription there for me. So I had little choice but to check it out. In the end, I came away a convert and will most likely use this pharmacy in the future, regardless of its restrictive hours.

What made the difference? Why would I leave the big box Walgreen’s? Simply, it was the personal attention I received from the owner. There had been some confusion about the cost of the injections involved, as well as what are called administrative fees. There was also confusion about the number of shots I needed. To alleviate my distress about these discrepancies, the owner spent time describing what happened, offering me a discount, and eventually administering the appropriate shots. (This is no mean feat, since I’m a wuss when a needle of any sort is concerned.)

In addition, the pharmacy’s staff is certified to administer the shots themselves, something Walgreen’s pharmacists are not. I need Hep A&B because I’m traveling to an exotic country in the Middle East, and I wouldn’t even have known I’d needed them if I hadn’t done some Googling®.That said, it’s rare these days that your pharmacist is the go-to person for information about such inoculations. It’s even rarer that he or she can administer the shot.

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