Saturday, January 25, 2014

Canada XV - Dreams

     Fifteen minutes up the new road Emil began, "When I hit this stretch it always seems like The Pas should be no more than a couple of minutes away.  But it's not.  The world's a lot bigger up here.  Hours between towns.  Even on a main road like this one, it can be a long stretch between buildings.  Almost as far as between me and the truth.  Take a peek to the left, off in the woods a bit.  That steel track and the power line are about the only signs of civilization.  Unless you include the asphalt we're passing over.  And the car we're in.  And all the stuff inside."
     Emil paused, "I was going somewhere with that wilderness thought but I seem to have ambushed myself."
     "I've been thinking a lot since Lena passed.  Most of it has to do with where I'm going from now 'til I'm pushing up daisies.  One thing's for sure, I don't see me getting married again.  No sir.  Did that and did that well.  And I don't see Parkers Prairie in my future either.  Time to move on.  Someplace farther north.  Place with pine trees, rocks and water.  Kind of like what we're passing through but not so far from the civilized world."
     "There's a coupla three spots I've been thinking of.  One's along the Stump River up near the Canadian border.  Of course having the name Stump doesn't make a river sound like much more than a snake infested bayou that once had trees.  But it's not by a long shot.  Over the last few miles the Stump turns from slow and wide to a regular Rocky Mountain type stream.  The kind of rivers called freestone for a good reason.  Rapids, water falls, dead fall, the whole nine yards.  And it's way the heck off any kind of beaten path.  Off a side road, off another side road, off the Arrowhead Trail.  And the Trail isn't all that much to begin with.  Once back in there I'd still have to cut a driveway."
     "Most everything about it screams boonies.  Which it is.  Build a place there and I'd have access to the lakes of the roadless area all along the border.  But come snowfall and snowfall comes early and hard up in the deep Arrowhead, any idea of traveling by motor vehicle would be long gone.  Wintering up there would be a challenge.  Ten cords of firewood and quarter ton of food problem.  Screw up and the hospital down in Grand Marais might as well be on the other side of the planet."
    "The Stump's pretty much what I'm looking for in a stream.  There's trout in it as the river tumbles toward the border, brook trout.  You see, this old dog is thinking of learning a new trick.  Spent my life fishing pike and bass, walleye when they were friendly.  But now I figure it's time to learn trout.  Stream trout.  Fly rod some small floating flies and maybe fool a few brookies."
     "I've called myself a fly fisherman for a couple of decades but am I?  Don't know.  I can throw twenty yards of line.  Buggy whip it to fish that aren't all that hard to fool.  But trout?  That's a whole 'nuther ballgame.  Up in the Arrowhead most of the streams are forest and brush choked.  Not much call for a long cast.  Trout there need a delicate, accurate presentation.  Won't look twice at something called a cast.  Don't know if that's because they're so finicky about what they'll eat or they're just arrogant little boogers that'll make you jump through hoops and wear the right brand of hat just so Orvis can stay in business."
     "Guess it doesn't really matter.  If you wanna catch 'em, you've got to play their game.  Not so much different than the rest of life.  I suppose a man could say nearly anything is like life and not be far wrong.  Lookin' for four leaf clovers is a lot like life.  Mostly a waste of time and after a while my back hurts.  Like I said, nearly anything."

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