Day 1: Prep and travel
So I’m getting ready for my epic fishing adventure with Crazy Ivan and Peter the Shrink.
Crazy Ivan (who doesn’t like that name by the way) is our neighbour from up north. In the summer he takes all our friends out for pontoon boat rides on the river. In the evenings he comes over to kill bottles of wine with Gaston. Peter the Shrink is his friend I know nothing about. You won’t see much of him though. I’m not going to film him for fear of some of his patients seeing it and freaking out (not even joking).
We are going to Deer Lake for 8 days to fish our faces off.
I don’t know where Deer Lake is.
I don’t even know how to fish.
Apparently it’s super remote and I need to pack a cooler full of 8 days worth of food. This simply not going to work. A) I can’t fit all that food in a cooler. B) I can’t focus or plan that far ahead. I once went shopping for a pasta dinner. I came home with cheese dogs, strawberries, olives and peanut butter.
Walking up and down the aisles, here’s what I randomly ended up with.
I managed to pull from the 4 food groups: Canned, Bagged, Boxed and Frozen.
I’m pretty sure I’m coming home with scurvy.
Ps. Why do I randomly have garlic?
I get to the airport and my gate looks like the Sportsman’s Show. At least a quarter of the people are decked out in full camo wear: camo hats, camo pants, camo jackets and tees, camo hats, camo bags. More on this later.
I’m sat on the plane with a lady from Deer Lake. She likes to talk. A LOT. Whether or not I’m listening. We were delayed at the gate for over an hour. By the time we take off I want to put a blanket over her head and put the canary to sleep.
Now it’s 2:30 am and we’re waiting at the luggage belt for our coolers. I’m back at the camo convention. I easily count 20 huge rifle cases coming out. “We’re from Amurica, and we’re here ta huunt”.
Apparently outfitters charge them like 5 Gs to take them moose hunting – and they don’t even keep the meat. They just take pictures with the moose or whatever they killed and leave it with the outfitter.
Our coolers arrive and we load our gear into a giant minivan taxi. Our driver is the cutest little man who looks and talks like a maritime leprechaun.
It’s about a 20 minute ride to the condo and I haven’t seen any streetlights. Not even a stop sign.
Tomorrow I’ll wake up with a view of the Humber river and we’ll start the drive to the secluded cabin a la “The Shining”
