Published: October 02, 2008 12:40 pm            

VALLEY: Diary of a mad camp life

Since I had to travel to our camp on the river (to close up for the winter months), I decided to write a daily log — or diary — of my activities that took place while I was there. I thought I could use this journal as one or more of my weekly columns for the paper. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be there; much depended upon the weather and, also, how much work there was to be done. As a matter of note: It wasn’t all about the work. I planned on getting in some end-of-the-year fishing and golfing before returning home.

So, here it is — written on the day indicated:

n Day One. I got here around 5 p.m. Friday afternoon. My brother, Tim, helped me put my boat in. And I drove the couple of miles up river to our camp. It’s now late into the night — actually, 1:45 a.m. Saturday morning — and I can’t sleep. I don’t know what to do, so, I’ve come up with this cockamamie plan to write a column in a diary format. What the hell’s wrong with me? It sounds stupid even at 1:45 a.m. in the morning! What’s it going to sound like after some sleep?

I’m still up! It’s now 3:15 a.m. (Note to self: Two pots of coffee before bed is too much). By the way, I’m here alone — my wife didn’t make the trip. But I’m sure some bad things will also happen just to even it out (I have to remember to call her tomorrow and use that line).

I thought it would be a good idea to buy very few groceries and sort of “live off the land” (or river, in this case). I have plans to get up early and go out fishing. And, yes, I’m taking a cell phone (again)! We’ll see what happens. I love this place!

n Day Two. No fish. That’s OK — I did bring some bologna. Luckily, my wife threw a piece of bread in with the cookies that she packed for me to keep them moist. I only needed a half a sandwich, anyway. No mustard and I ate the last cookie last night. But that’s OK, too.

It’s mid-afternoon and I just came in from working under the camp (in the water). I had to shore up the foundation so that the ice doesn’t wipe it out this winter. Starting to get hungry. Wish I had some fish. Everything’s fine, though — I still love this place.

n Day Three. It’s Sunday morning, cold, dark and overcast. I wanted to get out early and go fishing, but the river is too rough. It’s not worth the challenge. No one is around this time of the year to help if I had trouble out there. Maybe I’ll try fishing from shore.

Three hours later I finally got outside and tried fishing from the dock. It wasn’t without a dilemma: I was out of bait. I had to make a crucial decision. Should I use the last of the bologna — or not chance losing the only main staple of food that I had left in the camp. It was a no-brainer. With apologies to Oscar Mayer, I needed something different to eat.

After a couple of hours, it happened. Finally, success! I caught something. Unfortunately, it was a stick. That’s right, a stick. There’s no doubt about the fact that it was a “keeper” stick, but it was still ... a stick. Now I have to figure out how I’m going to cook it. Apparently, I wasn’t going to only eat off the land, but I was actually going to eat it, too.

I’m trying to find humor in my situation because I really do love this place. However, I can see by the length of what I’ve written so far, it’s going to take more than one week’s column to complete the story.

•••

So join me next week to find out what else happened. Funny part is, I don’t know yet myself. Is the weather going to clear up? Will the river calm down? Will the sticks keep biting? Who knows?

And that’s the way it looks from the Valley.

Tom Valley is a Medina resident. His column runs every Thursday. Write to Tvalley@rochester.rr.com.

        

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