THE LAND NORTH OF SUPERIOR

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I have enjoyed the outdoor life all my days.  In all probability it would not have happened had I not had the parents I was blessed with.  The other day when I took our dogs for a run I was overjoyed to see a young parent with a very young toddler out on the ice and enjoying his visit to the land north of Superior.

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Winter time is a tough time for town dwellers to find a place for their dogs to run, I don’t mean on the end of a leash, I mean run free.  All summer when we go camping Missy and Major would just wait for the weekends or holidays for their bursts of energy burning freedom.  The two of them will spend hours chasing scents and low flying seagulls.  Ducks that wonder close to shore will send the two of them into a world of their own as they attempt to stalk and capture these intruders.  They of course are poorly equipped to do that, their hunting sense and their need to survive are tempered, in that they are fed well daily.  If they went hungry a few days I suspect their teamwork and stalking skills would improve dramatically.

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But I stray from the story.  The weather, as has been the last few winters, was mild.  It was only in the last three weeks I was able to take the dogs to several places because of the dangers of open running water.  The lake we visited is one of those put and take fisheries that the government has been opening up.  There are squaretails in that lake.  I’ve caught natural ones up about two pounds and stocked, clipped fish, up to about four pounds.  Nice fish in anyone’s books.  I usually wait until first open water to fish.

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The dogs were anxious as we pulled into the plowed turn around.  Another vehicle was parked there already and I thought maybe we would have to leave.  A quick scan of the lake showed a fisherman and a young toddler attending lines on the shore to the left of the turn around.  I decided they were far enough away that the dogs wouldn’t bother them; they after all had been there first.  The dogs burst from the truck almost before I was out the door.

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There was the usual dog inspection of the area.  The truck deserved attention and was investigated thoroughly.  While the dogs did their thing I watched as the parent went from hole to hole checking lines.  The youngster would follow and then give up, sitting down in the snow.  I could visualize them leaving soon with the toddler bored to tears and tantrums.  Boy was I wrong.

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The parent took note of what was happening.  Amongst peels of laughter, which floated across the ice, trails were packed from one hole to the next.  The laughter also pointed out another important thing; the parent was a young mother.  Laughter sounded out as they went about checking the lines and having fun.  Every once in a while Missy and Major would look the situation over, as a particularly loud commotion would sound from the far shore.

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“Stay Missy, Major�? was enough to keep the dogs from further investigation.  Major found a stick and the game of throw the stick and keep it away from Missy commenced.  I would throw the stick and two black darts would be in pursuit.  There would be a few moments until the stick was found and brought back to be thrown again.  Missy wasn’t fast enough to get the stick often, but that wasn’t important, she just loved to run.  While the dogs were doing their thing I watched the fisher persons on the other shore.

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I never noticed they caught anything.  But those had to be the best tended lines on any lake I’ve ever seen.  The tip ups were inspected and tested, the holes kept clean of ice and the paths were well packed by the constant movement from one hole to the next.  That little child was a beehive of activity all by itself.  In the hour and twenty minutes we were there I never once noticed a rest stop.  Each tip up would require serious attention and then the ice scoop would used.  Then peels of laughter as mother and child moved to the next hole.  Often I am sure the destination was forgotten as a chase would erupt for no good reason, and the merriment could be heard over the small lake.  I knew one thing for sure that child would sleep like the proverbial log that night.

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Major and Missy finally sat by the truck door, two tongues hanging as they panted for breath.  They were ready to head back home and have a snooze.  An hour and a quarter had passed and the sun was starting to get down behind the mountain that grew out of the left shore of the lake.  The dogs too would sleep well that night, probably dreaming of unlimited summer time running.

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