THE LAND NORTH OF SUPERIOR

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            With the waters of Lake Superior to the south and Lake Nipigon to the north the land north of Superior let’s visitors experience some of the best and worse weather this planet has to offer.  Up in this neck of the woods you have to be tough to enjoy yourself.

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            Joe and Tom (my two favorite names, the least keys to hit on the computer keypad) had left early that morning.  Four a.m. had seen them in Joe’s truck, the gusting wind spraying sheets of water over the windshield.  The weather man on TV2 had promised the same for all day, but who could trust  tv weather during moose season!  At 5:30 they parked the truck, nose pointing back to the deeply rutted main road, and stayed inside for another 1/2 hour.  It was going to be a late sunrise, or maybe no sunrise, the weather man seemed to be on target this morning.

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            Finally a little after six, both carrying the just introduced Kolpin gun cases, their yellow slickered figures squelched off, toward the river. The dark was no problem.  They had been down to this section of river many times over the years.  This year twice they had seen the stately rack of a big bull, his tracks seemed to cover the area.   The rack was all they had seen as the animal had crashed about feeding carefree as if he knew there was no target to hit.

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            The last time down they had both built a shelters using six by eight tarps.  Evergreen branches tied to a main pole, slopped down. A blue tarp had been stretched across this and covered with an even thicker layer of spruce branches.  It was dry in the middle and no sound of rain hitting the tarp could be heard.  A large stump served as a chair.  Apiece of bent welding rod did duty as a coat hook, another one was positioned to hang the rifle within easy reach of the occupant.  The two shelters were about a hundred yards apart on the outside of a large bend in the river.  Across the 60 feet of river low shrub, came to the water’s edge.  A good fifty yards from the edge of the water a full grown mixed forest provided perfect moose cover.

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            Tom and Joe each had a hand held CB, so quiet communication was easy.  On this morning there was nothing to see, nothing to report, except rain in greater or lesser amounts.  Both kept the transceivers tucked inside their coats to conserve battery life.  Though they were dry under the well made shelters both kept their gloves on.  It was only a degree or two above freezing.

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            The hours passed slowly with no letup in the weather.  A boiled egg and ham sandwich with a hot cup of sugarless black coffee helped pass the time.  The clouds overhead rolled by , dark and darker, the dampness slowly invaded their bodies.  At 12:30 Joe gave a call. Habit kept their voices low as they both agreed that this was enough of this, it was time to go home. With the Kolpin cases closed and yellow slickers buttoned to the chin, they  met and turned up the trail to their truck, a good 3/4’s of a mile away.

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            They were side by side when they left the cover of the forest.  They eased to a halt.  The gun cases came apart.  There was a big racked bull, standing in the rain, fifty feet away.  Right beside their truck!

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            Mother Nature has her own way of doing things that mere mortals sometimes can’t comprehend or do anything about. Her blessings are sometimes bestowed in disguised forms.  But here in the land north of Superior we like to think we can take anything she has to offer, and still smile.