Zach LarkinsVACATION (Part 8)
"There was something in the air that night.
The stars were bright,
Fernando,
They were shining there for you and me,
And liberty,
Fernando,
Though I never thought that we could lose,
There's no regret, If I had to do it all again, I would my friend,
Fernando,
Yes, if I had to do the same again, I would my friend,
Fernando......".
Abba
Today, we head back to Gore Bay, just to look around some of the remaining shops. First, I have to get gas though, so we head for Spring Bay. It is a dusty little village with gas pumps, a corner store, a church and an antique market. The gas pumps are, shall we say, not what you'd find on the 401. There is a little sticker in the glass that tells you litres and prices are to be multiplied by two. Ya gotta love it. We fill up and as it is a full service station, the fellow putting in the petrol and I begin chatting. Apparently he and his wife used to work for a place that wanted them to move somewhere else to follow their jobs as the company went through a downsizing. They said no thanks and came to Manitoulin instead and haven't looked back since. They know, somehow, where we are staying and tell us to say hello to Marilyn and Myrtle for them. We assure them we will. TBH picks up some tomatoes while I head for the liquor side to pick up a bottle of Bailey's. I never understood why, in the city, the LCBO has to have its own shops, while up north, just about any corner store can sell liquor with nary a problem. I buy a paper and the clerk aks me if I want to read about all the bad news of the outside world. I think, not really, but there might be some good blogging stuff in there, so I sadly shake my head, say no I don't, but I'm going home in a couple of days and am trying to get back into the big city frame of mind.
We get to Gore bay and visit the tourist information booth. This is an octagonal building on the marina with a lookout tower. We climb the stairs and are treated to a great vista of the marina, the lake and the opposite shores. The water is so clear that even where it might be 20 or 30 feet deep, you can still see the bottom. There is no one operating the tourist booth but the restaurant is in full swing. We decide we'll head back to the second story cafe we were at the other day for a drink.
Having seated ourselves, the waitress tells us we can't smoke where we are as it is covered by a canopy. If we want to smoke we'll have to move one table over. We look at each other and keep our mouths shut. Rules are rules. Although we sat at the same table the other day and smoked with no problem. On one side of us is a table surrounded by Natives and the other holds a bevy of bikers. We place our order and the waitress asks for photo ID. We look at each other again, trying to determine if she is serious or not. The other tables explode in laughter. Trying to keep a straight face, I point to my beard and ask her if she can see the grey in it. She nods and I ask her if she still wants ID. Yes. I am wearing a hat similar to the one Red Green wears on his show and ask her if she knows who I am. No. I tell her I am Red Green. She scurries off to get the drinks and TBH and I finally let loose our laughter. She comes back and TBH asks her if this is her first day on the job. Yes, and she's been told to ID everyone. I guess she believes rules are rules too. She apologizes and TBH thanks her for the compliment. She tells the girl she hasn't been asked for proof for 40 years and feels young again. We chuckle about this for the rest of the day.
South Baymouth is a bit of a distant drive, but we decide to take the back roads and see some of the hidden countryside. More deer on the road and again, no camera handy. Oh well. We hit South Baymouth and check our reservation on the ferry to head back, then wander through the gift shop. We both pick up a pair of moccasins, these with soles on them so we can wear them outside. I'll tell you, the Indians sure had a good idea when they made these things. They're so comfortable you easily forget you are wearing them. Indeed, TBH has brought it to my attention, more than once, as I traipse out the door in them to go shopping and reminds me I'd better get out of my slippers. We spot a crystal wolf, baying at who knows what, and decide to purchase that too. We buy the turntable it comes on too. The turntable lights up the wolf in colours of red, green, yellow and violet. It really is a neat experience. (Nick, are you sending us subliminal messages?) Every turn, the wolf, and nothing else, lights up in a different colour and you can't take your eyes off it.
We head back to the cabin to spend a lazy day and run into Marilyn and Myrtle. Myrtle is the mother and owner of the resort. Marilyn is chief bottle washer and reservation clerk. Apparently, the resort was set up in 1932 and has been a family owned operation ever since. Marilyn's husband, Jim, is the chief handyman who does small repairs but when something major crops up, he is smart enough to get a younger pro in to handle it. Their season runs from May to the end of October and you can't book cabins in advance. They clear the books at the end of the season and start taking reservations Jan. 1 of the following year. A pretty fair system actually. No one can hog a particular cottage. We had wandered around a bit and set our sites on Cabin #2 for next year. It's a three bedroom (which we don't really need) but it comes with some nice secluded fishing spots and a private beach. I'll be sending them an e-mail on New Years Day to try to reserve it.
We loll around on the porch for a while and decide to go do some fishing. Our buddy Isaac is already at the dock and has captured about 7 rock bass. He is starting to froth at the mouth as bass season opens this weekend and he'll be able to keep the smallmouths he's had to put back thus far. TBH heads back to the cabin to get the packet of lures that came with her rod and presents them to the lad. You'd think he died and went to heaven. He gushes all over us in true gratitude and I assure him he can have them, I have way more than enough in my tackle box. I use an ultra-lite rod that is spun with 2 lb test and makes a ½ lb perch feel like a 5 lb smallie. I hook a couple and TBH wants to keep them and fry them up, but I toss them back. We still have enough food from Mum's to feed us for the next three days. (Which it did, by the way)
We head back to Spring Bay the next day to check out the antique shop. This is a dusty little barn that is only open on certain days. Nice work, if you can get it. It happens to be open today and we venture in. We're met by the shopkeeper, a nice, middle-aged lady who tells us to take our time and look around. Sounds like a plan to me. We inspect the main floor and then descend into the bowels of the place. Here we find artifacts that haven's seen the light of day for quite some time. Some is in disrepair, some is pristine. We wend our way upwards and cover the next 2 stories, old furniture, paintings, that sort of stuff. TBH spots a cut glass pitcher that would be perfect for holding the iced tea I enjoy. We grab that. Thank God, we can finally get rid of the dollar store plastic jug we've been using so far. TBH then spotted a candy dish that matched the jug, so that had to go into the swag-bag as well. We escaped with having spent a grand total of $25.00. I figured it was pretty fair.
The next couple of days were spent just lazing around the cabin and trying to eat the remainders of our Mum's meals. The vacation was drawing to a close and neither one of us was looking forward to coming back to the smog and pollution of the city. I won't bore you with the details of our return trip. Suffice it to say we were both pretty damn sad. There's always next year, though.
This is as much as you get folks. The unedited, unabridged version is for me and TBH to treasure. I'll leave it to your imagination. Thanks for putting up with me. I thought I had a good tale to tell and from your responses, I guess I was right. Tomorrow, hopefully, we get back into the thick of it.
Ciao.
The stars were bright,
Fernando,
They were shining there for you and me,
And liberty,
Fernando,
Though I never thought that we could lose,
There's no regret, If I had to do it all again, I would my friend,
Fernando,
Yes, if I had to do the same again, I would my friend,
Fernando......".
Abba
Today, we head back to Gore Bay, just to look around some of the remaining shops. First, I have to get gas though, so we head for Spring Bay. It is a dusty little village with gas pumps, a corner store, a church and an antique market. The gas pumps are, shall we say, not what you'd find on the 401. There is a little sticker in the glass that tells you litres and prices are to be multiplied by two. Ya gotta love it. We fill up and as it is a full service station, the fellow putting in the petrol and I begin chatting. Apparently he and his wife used to work for a place that wanted them to move somewhere else to follow their jobs as the company went through a downsizing. They said no thanks and came to Manitoulin instead and haven't looked back since. They know, somehow, where we are staying and tell us to say hello to Marilyn and Myrtle for them. We assure them we will. TBH picks up some tomatoes while I head for the liquor side to pick up a bottle of Bailey's. I never understood why, in the city, the LCBO has to have its own shops, while up north, just about any corner store can sell liquor with nary a problem. I buy a paper and the clerk aks me if I want to read about all the bad news of the outside world. I think, not really, but there might be some good blogging stuff in there, so I sadly shake my head, say no I don't, but I'm going home in a couple of days and am trying to get back into the big city frame of mind.
We get to Gore bay and visit the tourist information booth. This is an octagonal building on the marina with a lookout tower. We climb the stairs and are treated to a great vista of the marina, the lake and the opposite shores. The water is so clear that even where it might be 20 or 30 feet deep, you can still see the bottom. There is no one operating the tourist booth but the restaurant is in full swing. We decide we'll head back to the second story cafe we were at the other day for a drink.
Having seated ourselves, the waitress tells us we can't smoke where we are as it is covered by a canopy. If we want to smoke we'll have to move one table over. We look at each other and keep our mouths shut. Rules are rules. Although we sat at the same table the other day and smoked with no problem. On one side of us is a table surrounded by Natives and the other holds a bevy of bikers. We place our order and the waitress asks for photo ID. We look at each other again, trying to determine if she is serious or not. The other tables explode in laughter. Trying to keep a straight face, I point to my beard and ask her if she can see the grey in it. She nods and I ask her if she still wants ID. Yes. I am wearing a hat similar to the one Red Green wears on his show and ask her if she knows who I am. No. I tell her I am Red Green. She scurries off to get the drinks and TBH and I finally let loose our laughter. She comes back and TBH asks her if this is her first day on the job. Yes, and she's been told to ID everyone. I guess she believes rules are rules too. She apologizes and TBH thanks her for the compliment. She tells the girl she hasn't been asked for proof for 40 years and feels young again. We chuckle about this for the rest of the day.
South Baymouth is a bit of a distant drive, but we decide to take the back roads and see some of the hidden countryside. More deer on the road and again, no camera handy. Oh well. We hit South Baymouth and check our reservation on the ferry to head back, then wander through the gift shop. We both pick up a pair of moccasins, these with soles on them so we can wear them outside. I'll tell you, the Indians sure had a good idea when they made these things. They're so comfortable you easily forget you are wearing them. Indeed, TBH has brought it to my attention, more than once, as I traipse out the door in them to go shopping and reminds me I'd better get out of my slippers. We spot a crystal wolf, baying at who knows what, and decide to purchase that too. We buy the turntable it comes on too. The turntable lights up the wolf in colours of red, green, yellow and violet. It really is a neat experience. (Nick, are you sending us subliminal messages?) Every turn, the wolf, and nothing else, lights up in a different colour and you can't take your eyes off it.
We head back to the cabin to spend a lazy day and run into Marilyn and Myrtle. Myrtle is the mother and owner of the resort. Marilyn is chief bottle washer and reservation clerk. Apparently, the resort was set up in 1932 and has been a family owned operation ever since. Marilyn's husband, Jim, is the chief handyman who does small repairs but when something major crops up, he is smart enough to get a younger pro in to handle it. Their season runs from May to the end of October and you can't book cabins in advance. They clear the books at the end of the season and start taking reservations Jan. 1 of the following year. A pretty fair system actually. No one can hog a particular cottage. We had wandered around a bit and set our sites on Cabin #2 for next year. It's a three bedroom (which we don't really need) but it comes with some nice secluded fishing spots and a private beach. I'll be sending them an e-mail on New Years Day to try to reserve it.
We loll around on the porch for a while and decide to go do some fishing. Our buddy Isaac is already at the dock and has captured about 7 rock bass. He is starting to froth at the mouth as bass season opens this weekend and he'll be able to keep the smallmouths he's had to put back thus far. TBH heads back to the cabin to get the packet of lures that came with her rod and presents them to the lad. You'd think he died and went to heaven. He gushes all over us in true gratitude and I assure him he can have them, I have way more than enough in my tackle box. I use an ultra-lite rod that is spun with 2 lb test and makes a ½ lb perch feel like a 5 lb smallie. I hook a couple and TBH wants to keep them and fry them up, but I toss them back. We still have enough food from Mum's to feed us for the next three days. (Which it did, by the way)
We head back to Spring Bay the next day to check out the antique shop. This is a dusty little barn that is only open on certain days. Nice work, if you can get it. It happens to be open today and we venture in. We're met by the shopkeeper, a nice, middle-aged lady who tells us to take our time and look around. Sounds like a plan to me. We inspect the main floor and then descend into the bowels of the place. Here we find artifacts that haven's seen the light of day for quite some time. Some is in disrepair, some is pristine. We wend our way upwards and cover the next 2 stories, old furniture, paintings, that sort of stuff. TBH spots a cut glass pitcher that would be perfect for holding the iced tea I enjoy. We grab that. Thank God, we can finally get rid of the dollar store plastic jug we've been using so far. TBH then spotted a candy dish that matched the jug, so that had to go into the swag-bag as well. We escaped with having spent a grand total of $25.00. I figured it was pretty fair.
The next couple of days were spent just lazing around the cabin and trying to eat the remainders of our Mum's meals. The vacation was drawing to a close and neither one of us was looking forward to coming back to the smog and pollution of the city. I won't bore you with the details of our return trip. Suffice it to say we were both pretty damn sad. There's always next year, though.
This is as much as you get folks. The unedited, unabridged version is for me and TBH to treasure. I'll leave it to your imagination. Thanks for putting up with me. I thought I had a good tale to tell and from your responses, I guess I was right. Tomorrow, hopefully, we get back into the thick of it.
Ciao.
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MS Paint Art
A long trail but true, I really enjoyed it, you got me in with ABBA.
Well written and well read, you took me with you. And nothing contentious, which I love.
katyzzz
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Tales From The Green Lantern
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Tales From The Green Lantern
made me go "ahhhh" at the end...lol...you and YBH sound like you had the time of your lives...
Lucky devil...*Snicker*
And if you're not gonna share the personal stuff well, *sniff* ok...I understand!
Great read buddy, was with you guys every step of the way...ok well not every step, lol but yanno what I mean!
Great read my friend!
Take care and hugs to YBH n stuff,
Nick
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Tales From The Green Lantern