Yearly Archives: 2012
This weekend I threw the corporate RiverEarth.com Christmas party. You know. That dreaded event where you stand around with your work mates out of obligation not desire. Kiddie-size glasses of red dyed drink in your hand. Not a drop of hooch in there because, you know, Corporate reserved the ball room and it doesn’t look good when Rupert in accounting gets sauced and does the… Continue reading
This wasn’t the way I planned to end my voyage across Newfoundland by mule and wagon. Saturday afternoon, October 6 2012, a four-door vehicle drove head-on into the back of my wagon. There were no skid marks or signs of collision avoidance at the scene. The impact was strong enough to separate the wagon in two. Mule Polly, the driver of the vehicle and I are okay.
Gentle readers. I have deceived you. Okay, “deceive” is a mite hard. Let’s say I haven’t been completely forthright about mule Polly and my mission here in Newfoundland. While it may seem we’ve been stumbling aimlessly around The Rock, we’ve actually been on a record quest. Record as in vinyl, not world.
One recent morning I woke to find Polly gone. Yep, while I was under the influence of some knock-out-grade REM sleep, she slipped her picket and took a self-guided tour of Barr’d Harbour, Newfoundland.
Who caught her? A young girl.
Seems Polly fell under the spell of the young gal’s potato chips. Followed her into the family’s yard where the two of them inspected the rabbit hutch. Then joined the girl and her mom for a bit of socializing on… Continue reading
So mule Polly have been traveling across Newfoundland for a month now. Plenty of time to get a feeling for the land. The beach launched fishing boats. The bottled seal meat. The lobster traps that Polly likes to eat. She does it for the fiber, not the salt. Ask me how I know.
Polly cadging a treat from two young lads on a fishing boats.
Thirty days on the road with a mule. Plenty of time answer questions about myself,… Continue reading
In recent weeks, mule Polly and I have been following an abandoned rail bed across Newfoundland. In the quarter century since the rails have been taken up, Mother Nature, Father Time and four-wheelers have taken their toll. For the most part, the gravel path is clear.
There are obstructions, though. Like the dam Polly and I ran across last week. The dam itself was gated off. So you couldn’t walk across it to reach the other side. Rather, we had… Continue reading
Mule Polly and I have been traveling the Newfoundland coast for a month now. Starting in L’Anse aux Meadows, on the northern tip, we have visited close to a dozen coastal communities along the west coast – Shoal Harbor, Eddies Cove West, Barr’d Harbour, Portland Creek.
Most striking is how the small boat fishery is still intact. Shrinking. Yes. In danger of being obsoleted by the 70-foot seiners and factory ships. Yes. Plunged into and out of fishing season by… Continue reading
Polly and my wagon trip into Newfoundland has begun. From here on the northern tip, we proceed slowly south along the coast. Unlike previous trips, where I carried along a solar panel and battery to charge my laptop, my current wagon is rigged more sparsely. More in tune with what’s needed in this foggy, damp climate.
This is cold country. Even with summer around the corner, the air is damp. Moisture permeates my bedding, clothes and food. For heating, boiling… Continue reading
Four days before the official start of summer and there are icebergs floating by my wagon’s front door. No, they’re not going to… Continue reading
“What the hell is that thing?” You get that a lot traveling with a mule and wagon. Leave the rig for an errand, and often as not you’ve drawn a crowd of guys, hands jammed in their pockets, speculating with each other on what it is they’ve found.
Which is what happened recently in Sydney, Nova Scotia.
Polly and her wagon were loaded on my trailer. We were waiting to get on… Continue reading