'Nowhere but Here'

Black flies swarming all around me, I continued to sweat profusely in the heat of July. I kept my black and blue flannel sleeves rolled down to full length and an extra shirt wrapped around my face to keep from being bit, and I began to wonder how long I had been waiting. Obviously I knew I had had a life before the hours on this remote logging road spot and that I would likely have life beyond this place, but the passing of time and lack of certainty in knowing how to wait had messed with my head a little.

Grandpa Tom, my cousin Anthony, and I stayed at a log cabin in Sultan, a small, remote village in Ontario, Canada. Earlier that morning, Grandpa, who had been diagnosed several months back with both Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s, had suddenly woken us shouting that it was 11 a.m.! We scrambled out of bed, paused in the oil-lamp lit cabin, and stared at the open windows: it was pitch black outside. Anthony looked at his watch: the time was 4:30! Grandpa’s reply was priceless, we were already up, and so we finished preparing and headed out just as the sun was beginning to crest the pines and birch trees of the Canadian wilderness.

My grandpa’s driving skills at that stage were not the best, so it was no surprise when we ran over a small boulder that broke our trailer axle. We stopped the red truck and after working a couple hours to get the axle off, a logger pulled over his rig to share directions to the nearest camp for a repair. Grandpa unhooked the trailer and explained someone had to stay with the boat. Anthony locked eyes with me and slowly shook his head. I sighed despondently and waved goodbye as gritty dust flew up behind them. I would later hear about the surreal experience of French speaking loggers in their canvas tents, weld job free of charge, and the wolf with which they played fetch. But the story along with their return wouldn't be for another 3 to 4 hours.

In the mean time, I was left to my own devices. I took pictures of the beautiful surroundings and absurd situation with my yellow disposable Kodak camera, saw moose in the woods, made a small chair with stacked stones and a log, learned to more efficiently juggle with stones, and unintentionally scared another logger who likely didn't see anything more than a pile of clothes in which I was wrapped until I moved from my chair. I'll never forget the day that we met some misfortune but in terms of finding what we needed material and relationship-wise it was nothing but good fortune.