Blues. Muddy, foggy, rainy blues. Softball has been a mess playing in the rain on a dirt field. Man, I wish we had grass in this town! But, after the men's and women's seasons are over, we all kind of just slump into fall with a sigh.
Luckily, though, my husband likes to get outta town on a daily basis. We take the boat, or the 4 wheeler with the kids and just go. This past weekend we attempted to go camping on the river in tents.
Two boats overflowing with children and food to feed said endless-stomached kids. And, oops, just one tent! The men dropped the women off at the mudflats between some willows and the river where we were told by them, "We will be right back. There are no bullets in the chamber..."
So, I put my trust .357 side holster on and loaded it with some bear slugs while telling the kids that if I tell them, they need to run into the boat they left for us. They agreed. Morgan and I started to unhaul the Arctic Oven (kids tent!) when this most god-awful smell happened across our noses. Fresh crap.
Bear crap. Uh oh... So, I took my gun and walked around a bit to check things out, and found the bears sleeping quarters, a trail to the willows and some fresh crap, still steaming. So, I did what any other Eskimo would do. I walked on the trail toward the willows. Oh, and I texted my husband and said there was a bear and maybe they should hurry up!
The guys came back fifteen or twenty minutes later and walked into the food supply, watched the willows rustle and shot in the air a couple times to scare it off while we packed everything up and the kids cried. We headed home to sleep in our bear-proof houses ready for the next day.
The other boat was acting up so Sunday, just Dean the three middle kids and I went scouting for moose, geese, berries and caribou. And we found the motherload of all motherloads of blueberries.
Huge, grape sized, sweet tundra blueberries! (Also known as Alpine Blues) So, I endured 18 mosquito bites to the hand while we picked and picked and picked that afternoon.
We stopped by the regular "picnic" ground we've dubbed the "Joule-Lukin Picnic Grounds" because we always find the Joules there eating or sitting relaxing. Dean dragged a huge driftwood log to the area and cut it up for other people because it had looked like people were down to burning willows, due to the lack of driftwood on that side of the river.
Aside from all the rain we've been having (and are not enjoying again this week), it has been a great year for both Aqpiks and blueberries, so I am beginning to feel OK with the rain if it gives us grape sized berries.
Hopefully we get 10-15 gallons of blues this year.