Saturday October 5 2013

Saturday October 5, 2013

A day of highs and lows and everything in between.

Evolene’s first installment of her bicycle trek to Midden Harbour has created two camps.  One peopled by those who think her a fool, and the other consisting of those who feel sorry for her.  From a personal perspective, Evolene isn’t thrilled by either of those opinions.  But as a newswoman she’s ecstatic that her writing is being read and talked about.  She can’t wait for next week’s Shoreline to publish the second part of her story.

Can’t say that I’m unhappy either.  It’s been a while since the community has had a story that has engaged the readership like this.  Not that the sale of a few extra copies is going to make much difference in my revenue by itself, there aren’t that many full time local residents.  But apparently Ev’s story has spread beyond The Harbour, through word of mouth, and we’re starting to get email requests for copies.  What we’re actually getting are questions about whether this week’s edition can be viewed online.  It can’t. 

I have email of course, but have never felt the need to set up a Shoreline web page.  Truth be told, it didn’t occur to me that anyone who didn’t live here, at least as a summer resident, would be interested in local news.  It’s nice that we’re seeing this spike in interests because of Ev’s story, but I can’t see it lasting or having an effect more than a spike in advertising for a few weeks. 

Still, I decided to get another one of my spare distribution boxes out of the shed and get the ferry operator to take it over to the city-side wharf, and set it up.  Can’t hurt to have those extra copies available, besides it’s something I can add to my sales pitch to local businesses.  And of course Ev’s is pleased.

It was another one of those beautiful fall afternoons.  Getting too cold to be out on the boat even on a sunny day, so Butkus and I hopped in the truck, stopped by the office to pick up my camera, and headed up through the bench to one of our favorite hikes.  Waylaid for a while when we came across some neighbours sitting on the side of the road.  Tailgate parties may have become the big thing at football games in recent times, but  rural parts of the country have been having the original tailgate parties for as long as there have been tailgates, truck or wagon. 

A rural tailgate consists of two neighbours bumping into each other on a back road like the one Butkus and I were on this afternoon.  If neither person is in a hurry--and people who live in the back country rarely are—the expectation is that both will stop and get out to chat, and at least one of them will reach behind the seat in the cab of their truck and pull out a couple of beers.   Should explain that these beers are what we refer to as “Cowboy cool.”  This means that they are whatever temperature the cab of the truck is.  Might not sound appealing to those who favour their suds chilled, but it works for us.

Now, no one thinks drinking and driving is a good thing, so the days when these tailgates would go on for hours is long gone.  Having said that, most of us around here don’t think a beer or two over an hour or two is a problem.  It’s not that these informal get togethers are brief.  I’ve seen times when they’ve gone on pretty well all day and into the night.  But when this happens the composition of the group evolves as the hours pass.  Someone who lives in the bush might stop by to say hi in the morning on their way into town, then rejoin the group, usually with a case of cold ones,  several hours later when they’re on their way home. 

If someone has too much to drink, a friend or neighbour will drive them home.  If it gets too dark and there’s no moon, someone usually has a lantern.

Good times, and happy memories. 

Reminds me of a story someone once told me about an experience they had on a trip to India.  But this is enough for today.