An unexpected snow storm caught me by surprise as I was visiting a friend in a secluded mountain top cabin. What a thrill. Isolation, solitude, nature & a romantic setting. Life doesn't get any better than this~!! We snowshoed & XCSkied down to the road and after we slowly shoveled ourselves to the nearest vehicle, we headed out to find our future "secret" fishing spots. Last year I sustained myself with the fish I caught. They made up a large portion of the food I ate, so I had to find isolated spots that weren't fished out yet inorder to continue providing myself food that I could afford.
With good maps and local stream information I knew I could again have another successful summer of foraging. Found several potential areas and look forward to returning to these areas once all the ice is melted and the fishing season opens (April 11th).
The day had many bonuses.
On a rural trail I now call "BEAVER BEND" I found the best fishing area. No one visits this area because the pond is out of sight of the main roads and it is not on any of the area fishing maps. It's a little far to drag or carry kayaks but I recently was given 2 kayak transporters with wheels, so hiking in with boats won't be difficult at all. The scenery alone is breathtaking. The water is crystal clear. The tracks of several winter hardy species can be seen all over the snow, ice and trails. Including Bobcat. I can "hear" fish in the deeper areas. There are 4 magnificent beaver lodges in the middle of the several interlocking ponds. My heart has a special place for beavers. Last winter most of my scavenged fire wood came from old beaver chews and logs they couldn't get to the water. Help nature and nature will help you. Thank you beavers for helping me keep warm during a very painful and difficult winter.
On the long trip back to the cabin we stoped at "Dog Village" which is the local Humane Society. Within seconds of entering the facility I found a skinny, terrified hound that needs some help. I inquired about his history and was told he originally came from France with his owners who lived in Montreal. A divorce and the economy forced his surrender to the shelter. He just arrived and was placed in the kennels with the other dogs. His baratone howl haunts me. I sent his photo to all my friends who may want another dog, but all replied that they are "down sizing" and are not in a market for any dog over 30 lbs. With some research from another hound loving friend, we discovered him to be a French White & Orange hound. Yes, its actually a breed. Dog Village will be finding me on their front steps this week.
The flowers are beautiful and unusual here. There was one in particular I would of loved to have because of its odd shape, silky texture and stunning color. I have no idea what it is called and do not want to know any more about it. A photos will have to surfice. Having Hound-on-the-brain and counting down until I can fish for food is enough to contemplate for now.
On our ride back toward the mountain we saw one last sight before the sun sank over the mountain range. Decorated agricultural equipment is the norm here during the holidays and this exceptional high quality antique wheel escaped the 6 feet of snow and damaging ice to remain fresh and vibrant at the end of its snowed in driveway.