As we headed to Australia, a smile dressed my face… this was the first “non-work” vacation I had taken in quite some time.
The Sydney beaches were gorgeous. Surfers and tourists played in the sun and I couldn’t help but look beyond them for signs of decent fishing. Spotting the shark net in the distance, I quickly remembered that these beaches were much different than those on the west-coast of BC and the thought of a run in with a man-eating bull or great white shark rose my heart rate and lessened my desire to go swimming.
Arriving in Australia always loses me two days… as they are one day ahead of us, the 30 hour commute inevitably steals another day and I needed a day of rest for my body to catch up.
Colby and I had two days to get back to the mainland, catch up with family, pack for another month of “off-roading” and make sure that business was running smoothly.
I had originally scheduled September to be my month of stability… my new property sat blossomed by summer, waiting for me to groom its field, cut its deadwood, revive its old boat launch and become familiar with its sprawling riverfront and the steelhead who lay within it.
I’d counted down the days where I could wake up on my own schedule, pour a gourd of yerba mate and look out at the riverfront that I had worked so hard over the years to obtain…
…But in true “workaholic” fashion, I had somehow managed to schedule September to be hectic and as quick as the steam of my hot tea evaporated into thin air, so did my aspirations of having any free time.
I have spent the entirety of my last four summers living in a small tin-roof cabin nestled comfortably in the grasps of overhanging cedars and burrowing mice… our camp is simple; we run it with love, integrity and appreciation.
For a full three months out of each of these years, I have awakened every day to the lapping of saltwater atop the uninhabited beach that sprawls tirelessly through the narrows of the Dean Channel (near Bella Coola).
Bears and wolves quietly roam the sandy shores and splashing salmon boil the bay into a churning frenzy as they defy natures’ normalcies and spawn within the saltwater.
The freshwater of the Dean River pours into this lively bay only a few minutes from my cabin and I marvel at the routine and beauty of it all.
But this year was different…