Saturday, July 30, 2011
"Just relaxing as moving down stream for miles and setting up camp, thinking of dinner, watching Grayling trout rippling the water's surface, then a Pike with rows of sharp teeth, snap at the smaller fish, as a Caribou breaks through the brush for a crossing. All this before I can boil water, for coffee. Then a fox cub barks in the tundra somewhere as Canadian geese reverse their direction on the river as they spot me, their chicks forced ahead of the flotilla." "When I get rested and finish the meal, I search the gravel for ancient Inuit artifacts, sometimes I find a 'bola weight' of a walrus tooth, a fishing net sinker of bone, or ivory, or an arrowhead, polished by centuries of river wear."