Yesterday was almost the last day of school before vacation time. Almost because I still have a few reports to get done, a prom on Friday and a meeting next Monday but I am getting closer to being in my canoe on a lake somewhere up north surrounded by the tranquility of nature.
Yesterday my boss, as he does every year at this time (if I've been good), presented me with a fine bottle of scotch. This year it was a very expensive single malt from the lowlands named Auchentoshan! I include the posted description for your reference:
DescriptionOch'n'tosh'n. Sound this odd-looking word out (it's actually the proper pronunciation for this single malt) and you'll feel like something magical is about to happen - and you'll be right. If you prefer subtlety over intensity then this 18-year-old Auchentoshan is the answer.As you might expect, I was full of anticipation of tasting this 18 year old beauty. The key phrase that had caught my eye was "subtlety over intensity". At my age, and with the onset of a summer vacation filled with tranquility, nature, canoeing, etc., I was looking forward to an evening of subtlety with a very mature 18 year old.
So late last night (after allowing my expectations to reach their maximum), I dared to open this beauty and poured a wee dram of the golden liquor into a small glass. I teased myself for a full minute by simply breathing in the wonderful aroma. I marvelled at the clear amber colour of her. I gently swirled the liquid around in the glass and admired her long legs (it's a scotch drinkers term) as she undulated down the sides of the vessel. I was ready!
At first sip though I realized that I was not dealing with a submissive golden haired Scottish beauty from the highlands but rather with a fiery red head from the lowlands. She entered my senses not with subtlety but with the cruelty of an explosive charge which carried down from my nose to the bottom of my stomach. Additionally, to my utter amazement, as I pulled the glass away I noticed that the once clear amber coloured 18 year old had disappeared to be replaced with an angry looking oily, milky mixture such as you might find in the ditches of Calcutta on a hot July day after the monsoons have passed. I felt betrayed - as one might after falling in love with a beautiful girl only to have her turn into an angry, bitter harpy once the marriage vows have been consummated.
But I was arrogant my friends. Did I turn away from this vixen who had harmed my very soul? No! I thought that given my many years of experience I could tame this wench who had turned into a bitch before my very eyes. After all, had I not gone through a divorce and lived to tell of it! Could this be any worse? With the boldness of a fool I turned once more to this fiery, angry beast and continued to consume her.
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As I write this, some 2 hours after awakening upon the floor of my apartment in a pool of my own drool, I still feel as if I had gone a full twelve rounds with a 6 foot Amazonian Scottish whore who clawed, bit, chewed, and punched her way to victory over my tired old body. I'll give her that - she is a fighter! But as I said before - I am arrogant and last night notwithstanding, I look forward with eager anticipation to once again tackling the Scottish whore tonight. Tonight I will be prepared! Tonight I shall be victorious!
On Thursday morning I left for my first solo canoe trip of the year. Forecasts of rain and cold weather could not deter my desire to get away for a few days. You might well ask, why does a man who lives alone feel the need to get away? I have asked that same question of myself and after three days of talking to no one but myself, I have the answer. But first some pictures.
One answer might be - I went away to try out my new canoeing gear. Here is a pic of my new, rain-proof tent. It was put to the test this trip as it rained every day. I must say I was pleased to wake up each morning in a dry sleeping bag. I love my new tent!
The first night was overcast and I was barely able to see the full moon as it peaked out of the clouds for a brief second. I was in bed shortly afterwards as I intended to be up early.
The next day I was off again - ok not so early - and it rained for most of the 5 hour journey. Despite the rain it was wonderful to be canoeing alone in the wilderness. Here is a pic I took while waiting out the heaviest of the downpours.
By the time I arrived at my second destination the skies had cleared and it was time to build a shore fire. As you can see, despite the wet wood, it doesn't take long to go from humble beginnings to a roaring fire.
Part of the answer to my question can be seen in these next two photos. This is why I go canoeing - to be able to better appreciate the beauty of nature and my role within it. It is difficult to describe the pleasure from sitting for hours with nothing to do but watch the world go from a sunlit wonder to a moonlit night scape.
The third day - the return trip - started out under sunny skies and then deteriorated into a full blown thunderstorm by the time I was halfway home. There is a certain fascination with mother nature while canoeing across a lake in the middle of a lightning storm. Scary for sure but nonetheless truly fascinating.
In the end I found the answer to my question of why does a man who lives alone find the need to go on a solo canoe trip into the wilderness. The answer, as is usually the case, is very simple. When you first arrive at a site there are a series of tasks which must be accomplished. The tent has to go up, lines for the food pack must be strung and then dinner has to be prepared. This gives me a sense of purpose. That done, there is nothing to do but build a fire, sit back and watch. This is the key - there is NOTHING TO DO! No bills to pay, phone messages to get back to, emails to write, no thoughts of what has to be done tomorrow. At home there is always something that you could or should be doing. In the wilderness by yourself there is NOTHING TO DO but sit and watch the world around you. That is the heart of true peacefulness.
