We had a lazy morning bumming around the cottage again. I hope this becomes a habit for the next six weeks. I enjoy milling about, lifting a rock and adding it to perfect the aesthetic of my fire pit, and eating a bowl of cold cereal with fresh whole milk in the hot sun in a big comfy chair next to river. Mike was out in the garden watering the vegetables. Kerry and I were excited to talk to him. I enjoy Mike's company and have a great time talking about the various projects we want to pursue around the property. Tomorrow we plan on elevating and clearing a bunch of trees to tidy up the view from shore.
The highlight of the morning was building a snake stick. Mike was attempting to investigate the broken down Ford pickup next to the barn. The Ford is an old eighties rusty grey Ranger that rumbles so loud when it starts you think you're at a drag race. Whop! Ba-Ba-Ba-BOP!!! It rumbles along the dusty dirt roads of Grindstone announcing it's old age like it's the second coming of Jesus. Sadly for the Ford, it's cacophonous rumbly tumbly symphony came to an end several weeks ago. The weather warmed, the wet weather cleared and parked in the sun next to the big red barn, the innards of the Ford quickly became infested with a large array of snakes. Mike does not like snakes, and when he went to lift the hood this morning, there were two huge snakes sitting on the engine block. He came down to see if I could help remedy the situation. I quickly constructed a 'snake stick', a trick my father taught me when I was a kid. A 'snake stick' is simply a long stick with a piece of rope secured to one end with a loop. You let the snake squirm through the loop, pull the string and it tightens around the snake's neck. You can then carry the snake where you want to release it, pin it's head, loosen the string and then let the snake go. I walked up to the truck with the newly fashioned stick. Mike popped the hood. An enormous black snake quickly slid into the shadows under the truck, but a few Gardner snakes remained. I caught one with the stick and brought it to the woods. The others eluded me. Mike thought it best to leave well enough alone. Where there are a few in sight, there are likely many unseen.
Morning lingered into mid-afternoon and finally Kerry and I jumped in the boat. We had no destination, just to see where the afternoon was going to take us. We headed over to Leak Island and jumped off the cliffs. It was my first swim of the year in the River, and it felt great. We continued on looking for Stave, but not too hard. We trolled passed Gananoque, but didn't have our passports to dock, so we headed downriver. We found the quintessential perfect cliff jump somewhere on the Canadian side of the river on our way in search of the 'Rift'. We did not find the 'Rift' and wound around the back side of Wellesly Island, bought some gas in Alexandria Bay, and cruised to the farmer's market in Clayton.
We discovered the most amazing invention, 'The Burri-Tow'. This traveling red vehicle is apparently home to the world's most amazing fish taco. We ate them ravenously with a fresh lemon. I enjoyed them some much, I began selling them to passers-by, much to the chagrin of the owners. Needless to say, we were fast friends, and I attempted to convince them they should drive the 'Burri-Tow' to the Gauley River Festival in West Virginia assuring them they would be a huge hit.
Mosquitoes are out in droves tonight. I started a fire, but couldn't stay out to enjoy it, so we enjoyed it from the screened in porch. Finishing the night with a Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Great Day!
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