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When I made camp, I sat for a moment in my folding chair and thought about what to do. I cooked up some curried-rice and grilled a steak over the fire, and shared the steak with Monty who was very helpful in reminding me that I had some left on my plate whenever I looked away from him.
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Then it was 1:00 PM and I listened to the CBC on my Grundig shortwave/fm/am wind-up radio powered by AA batteries - why wind it up when it can use batteries instead? I read my book for a while in my chair, gathered fire wood, discussed chipmunks with Monty, and hours passed, and I got hungry again.
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Since I had left my new fishing rod at home for some reason or another, I figured catching a fish was out of the question. But then I remembered Ray Mears saying a rule of bushcraft is to make the tool that you need. So I got some kitchen cotton string, a dead pine sapling, trimmed it, tied a 15 foot length string to the end, a hook and fake wriggly salamander lure to the end and threw it in the water.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4175/1638/400/fishingrod.jpg)
That is, I threw it, instead of casting, because it all bundled up and landed by my foot. So I tried again, with a long, graceful swooping movement, and the salamander dipped under the surface and vanished about 12 feet away and 4 feet down, over the edge of a dark rock in the lake.
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I looked carefully at the rod I'd crafted with my hatchet and shifted my feet and all of a sudden felt an insistent, almost anxious tugging on the string. I yanked the rod, and pulled up a 4 foot, 120 lb bass (see image below, some numbers have been exaggerated).
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After cleaning it, I threw it in a firepan with olive oil, salt and pepper, and cooked it up over the fire. Beer and pan-fried fish - perfect. Monty had some too, after reminding me that I had some left over.
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He settled down on a blanket with his stuffed toy (important for comfort) and all the while kept an eye on the chipmunk territory in the woods, taking off after them every so often with a smile on his face.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4175/1638/400/P1010119.jpg)
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I wandered the edge of the island where I was from time to time, and found thick growths of soft lichen on the granite, and was followed by my trusty canine companion. He kept watch over the island - climbing like a mountain goat up the steep cliff around the camp site.
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The first thing I noticed about the camping spot as I pulled in with the canoe were the blueberry bushes, small, but covered with blueberries.
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I picked a few for snacks and on Saturday morning made blueberry pancakes. Very good. Scrambled eggs and tea accompanied the pancakes. Nothing better for breakfast.
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The early morning sun warmed up the island - weather was perfect, warm in the day, cool in the evening.
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Monty had a great time, and snoozed when he could, but also kept a close eye on the chipmunks as much as he could.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4175/1638/400/climbingmonty.jpg)
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One evening I made a lantern out of pine pitch, a branch and some spruce roots. It burned for several minutes in the blackness, and illuminated the site clearly.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4175/1638/400/lantern.jpg)
When I returned, Spring told me that she'd be up to going camping the next time I went - so we'll all be going up in August some time!
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