WEBVTT - Ep. 185: THIS COUNTRY LIFE - Oh, Canada

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<v Speaker 1>Welcome to This country Life. I'm your host, Brent Rieves

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<v Speaker 1>from coon hunting to trot lining and just general country living.

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<v Speaker 1>I want you to stay a while as I share

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<v Speaker 1>my stories and the country skills that will help you

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<v Speaker 1>beat the system. This Country Life is proudly presented as

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<v Speaker 1>part of Meat Eaters Podcast Network, bringing you the best

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<v Speaker 1>outdoor podcast the airways have to offer. All right, friends,

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<v Speaker 1>pull you up a chair or drop that tailgate. I

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<v Speaker 1>think I got a thing or two. The teacher old Canada.

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<v Speaker 1>I've been to Canada three times in my life. Each

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<v Speaker 1>trip was the trip of a lifetime, all of them

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<v Speaker 1>hunting trips, but each unique in its adventure and the

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<v Speaker 1>lessons learned. We're taking a trip north of the border

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<v Speaker 1>this week, but no need for the Rosetta stone. I'm

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<v Speaker 1>semi fluent in Canadian. I'm going to tell you all

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<v Speaker 1>about them, but first I'm going to tell you a story. Plans, suburbans,

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<v Speaker 1>and boats. Five of us with bear tags and one

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<v Speaker 1>with a camera waited at a predesignated spot on an

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<v Speaker 1>unnamed river that bled off the eight hundred square mile

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<v Speaker 1>Wallaston Lake in Saskatchewan, Canada. We were one hundred and

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<v Speaker 1>sixty three miles south of the Arctic Circle and over

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<v Speaker 1>two thousand miles away from Arkansas. We'd rented a suburban

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<v Speaker 1>when we landed in Saskatoon, and if that wasn't far enough,

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<v Speaker 1>we were still a thirteen hour drive from the airport

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<v Speaker 1>to where we now sat. I was there filming them

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<v Speaker 1>from my good friend Klay Knuckleman. It was back in

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<v Speaker 1>the days before he or I worked for me Dieter,

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<v Speaker 1>and even before the original Bear Grind East podcast. This

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<v Speaker 1>film was in support of Bear Hunt magazine and we

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<v Speaker 1>were on an adventure, an adventure that began the day

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<v Speaker 1>before when I showed up at Clay's house three hours

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<v Speaker 1>before we were supposed to leave for the airport, and

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<v Speaker 1>he said, Man, I've been so busy getting the magazine

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<v Speaker 1>ready to go out that I haven't even packed yet.

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<v Speaker 1>I laughed, but he didn't. Then I knew he was serious.

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<v Speaker 1>Hold a cow, let's get to pack it. Thirty minutes

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<v Speaker 1>later we were on our way to the airport with

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<v Speaker 1>seven days worth a gear. He never broke a sweat,

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<v Speaker 1>while I felt like I was having kittens the whole

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<v Speaker 1>time until we were checked in and waiting at the gate.

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<v Speaker 1>I hate flying, not the actual physicality of flying. But

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<v Speaker 1>the process of flying it used to be a relatively

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<v Speaker 1>simple process, as those amongst us who have traveled by

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<v Speaker 1>air prior to the tragedy of nine to eleven can

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<v Speaker 1>fully attest. And I know the reason for all the changes,

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<v Speaker 1>and I appreciate the redundancy of ID checks and screening.

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<v Speaker 1>I get it. I'm all for it. But that's the

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<v Speaker 1>process that makes me anxious. There's too much responsibility on

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<v Speaker 1>my end to have everything I'm supposed to have to

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<v Speaker 1>prove to someone who doesn't know me that I am

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<v Speaker 1>who I say I am. Plus I lose things often.

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<v Speaker 1>Alexis is constantly saying, in her condescending mom voice, if

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<v Speaker 1>you just put things back where they go instead of

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<v Speaker 1>laying them down in random spots, you wouldn't lose them.

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<v Speaker 1>She usually follows that up with have you seen my phone?

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<v Speaker 1>I can't find my phone. Me and that gal were

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<v Speaker 1>made for each other anyway. There the five of us

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<v Speaker 1>were standing in the middle of Saskatchewan, having survived the

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<v Speaker 1>first two legs of our journey into the North. James Lawrence,

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<v Speaker 1>Ryan Greb Carney Easter, and Clay Bold Nukem and yours.

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<v Speaker 1>Truly it was June and we were all wearing jackets

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<v Speaker 1>to cut the cold wind that blew off Wallaston Lake.

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<v Speaker 1>We were waiting for the last mode of travel to arrive.

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<v Speaker 1>In the last twenty four hours. We had been kept

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<v Speaker 1>from walking by the engineers at Boeing Chevrolet and whatever

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<v Speaker 1>water vessel was that we now waited. That was forty

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<v Speaker 1>five minutes overdue to our agreed upon meeting spot that

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<v Speaker 1>was supposed to keep us dry on our ride to

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<v Speaker 1>the Bear camp. It must be a big boat to

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<v Speaker 1>carry us and all our gear. We had a ton

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<v Speaker 1>of stuff. Hard cases with camera gear, bows, drones, and

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<v Speaker 1>Duffel bags of clothing and hunting gear were stacked at

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<v Speaker 1>the edge of a dock that looked like it had

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<v Speaker 1>been built by the students of a beginner carpenter class

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<v Speaker 1>in the dark. The boats we were expecting to ferry

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<v Speaker 1>us the last part of the trip had to be big,

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<v Speaker 1>so we were wondering how in the world they were

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<v Speaker 1>going to fit into this small area and this homemade dock.

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<v Speaker 1>I also wondered where the boat was. There was no

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<v Speaker 1>way other than using a SAT phone to contact the outfitter,

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<v Speaker 1>since he was the one coming to pick us up

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<v Speaker 1>and we doubted he'd be able to answer, so we

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<v Speaker 1>just waited. Another thirty minutes ticked by with us entertaining ourselves,

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<v Speaker 1>before we heard the sound of an outboard motor getting closer.

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<v Speaker 1>Then we saw the boats, two of them. One was

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<v Speaker 1>what i'd call a ski boat. It had a console

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<v Speaker 1>steering and a walk through windshield and a fifty horse

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<v Speaker 1>power outboard motor. The second boat was a fourteen foot

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<v Speaker 1>aluminum vehu with a forty horse power motor and a

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<v Speaker 1>tiller hand. Now, either those weren't our boats, or we

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<v Speaker 1>weren't going very far, I figured, But they were our boats,

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<v Speaker 1>and we were a long way from the end of

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<v Speaker 1>the boat riding. Were fixing the tape I had figured wrong.

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<v Speaker 1>The boat's coasted to a stop along the edge of

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<v Speaker 1>Canada's version of a Beverly hillbilly's boat dock, each pile

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<v Speaker 1>by a pair of strapping lads who ended each question

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<v Speaker 1>or mildly facetious statement with a like been waiting long

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<v Speaker 1>a or pretty long trip ah. After all the introductions,

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<v Speaker 1>we started bringing our gear down to the boats, and

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<v Speaker 1>the outfitter suggested putting all the gear in one person

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<v Speaker 1>in the bigger boat. He was driving that one, and

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<v Speaker 1>the rest of us would load up in the smaller

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<v Speaker 1>boat for the ride across the lake to the camp. James, Carney,

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<v Speaker 1>Ryan and I opted for the lighter boat after packing

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<v Speaker 1>the bigger one to the absolute gills with bags and cases,

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<v Speaker 1>then covering it up as best as we could with

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<v Speaker 1>tart to try to keep it all dry. I asked

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<v Speaker 1>that hockey loving cat who was minding the tiller how

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<v Speaker 1>far we were going, and he said, oh, it's a ways,

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<v Speaker 1>and he wasn't kidding. In Arkansas, you could hop in

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<v Speaker 1>any conveyance available from attractor to a bicycle, heading any

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<v Speaker 1>random direc direction, and in two hours you're going to

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<v Speaker 1>be somewhere, somewhere where there was something something other than water,

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<v Speaker 1>moss and trees and seemingly endless wilderness. Now, don't get

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<v Speaker 1>me wrong, I was digging it. I loved being in

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<v Speaker 1>remote places, and getting there is usually a big part

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<v Speaker 1>of the adventure. But for the past two hours I

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<v Speaker 1>felt like my teeth were getting loose from the constant

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<v Speaker 1>battering that the boat was taken and transferring to me.

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<v Speaker 1>I hooked my legs underneath the seat as best as

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<v Speaker 1>I could, and I had a gi Joe kung fu

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<v Speaker 1>grip on the gun and the seat. My behind was

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<v Speaker 1>hitting about every other wave. The waves that didn't take

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<v Speaker 1>me a foot off the bench washed over the bow

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<v Speaker 1>and sides, and the strong wind was soaking me in

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<v Speaker 1>my fellow Arkansas with the cleanest water I'd never wanted

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<v Speaker 1>to drink. At this point, I looked out of the

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<v Speaker 1>rain hood i'd pulled down tight around my face in

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<v Speaker 1>a feeble attempt to keep the lake out of my clothes,

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<v Speaker 1>and the bank to the Arbard's side of the boat

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<v Speaker 1>was invisible, nothing but water, and it looked as big

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<v Speaker 1>as the ocean. I looked to the port side and

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<v Speaker 1>caught it an occasional glimpse of Earth between the solo

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<v Speaker 1>cups of water. Old Mother Wallerston was spitting in my eyes.

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<v Speaker 1>I started using naval terminology in my thinking, as the

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<v Speaker 1>voyage to the end of the Earth drug on past eternity.

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<v Speaker 1>I figured, since we had all obviously been shanghaied by

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<v Speaker 1>sailors posing his bear hunting outfitters, that I might as

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<v Speaker 1>well learn the lingo. I looked back at our pilot.

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<v Speaker 1>He was wrapped up tight in his rein gear with

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<v Speaker 1>nothing other than a small peepole where his eyes should

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<v Speaker 1>have been. Occasionally a black tuft of hair would flip out,

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<v Speaker 1>before getting soaked and seeking refuge back inside his parker.

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<v Speaker 1>I caught him checking the GPS he had in his

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<v Speaker 1>pocket and mouth of the words how long eh? That

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<v Speaker 1>was in my best Canadian accident. He yelled above the

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<v Speaker 1>din of the outboard, in the crashing of the hull

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<v Speaker 1>of the boat on the waves, that we were almost halfway,

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<v Speaker 1>Almost halfway, for the love of humanity, was where we

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<v Speaker 1>were going going to look any different than where we

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<v Speaker 1>were it? It all looked the same as far as

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<v Speaker 1>what I could see now from the boat, and the

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<v Speaker 1>same I'd seen for the past one hundred and fifty

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<v Speaker 1>miles the road before we pulled up to that dock,

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<v Speaker 1>big round rocks, jack pines, and moss. I caught a

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<v Speaker 1>glimpse of Claybow's boat as it launched in the air

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<v Speaker 1>between the waves, the foot being the only thing that

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<v Speaker 1>stayed in contact with the water. My fund meter had

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<v Speaker 1>pegged out. I was ready to hit the bank. Gordon Lightfoot,

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<v Speaker 1>Ontario borne balladeer and President of Canada. His greatest song ever,

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<v Speaker 1>one of the personal favorites of mine was on repeat

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<v Speaker 1>in my head, over and over it played in Three

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<v Speaker 1>and a half hours later, we pulled up to a

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<v Speaker 1>dock that looked suspiciously like the first one I'd seen

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<v Speaker 1>fifty five miles earlier, when that whole ordeal started. Clay

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<v Speaker 1>and the boss outfitter had pulled a head as we

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<v Speaker 1>rolled into calmer waters and were waiting for us on

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<v Speaker 1>the bank. Clay was smiling, happy to be there, happy

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<v Speaker 1>to be bear hunting, but mostly I think, happy to

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<v Speaker 1>be alive. He walked out onto that unsteady dock. He

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<v Speaker 1>reached his hand out to me to help me up, smiling,

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<v Speaker 1>then he said, what do you think about that? When

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<v Speaker 1>my second foot hit the top of that dock? I said,

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<v Speaker 1>does anyone know where the love of God goes? When

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<v Speaker 1>the waves turned the minutes to ours, Clay's eyes got

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<v Speaker 1>white and a surprised look came across his face. He

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<v Speaker 1>squeezed my hand and said, Wow, did you just make

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<v Speaker 1>that up? No, Clay Bow, Gordon Lightfoot died and that's

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<v Speaker 1>just how that happened Old Canada. On my third trip

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<v Speaker 1>to Canada, me and Clay Bow found ourselves in British Columbia.

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<v Speaker 1>It was a stark contrast to the terrain of northern Saskatchewan.

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<v Speaker 1>This was mountainous, thick wooded terrain and clearcuts. We were

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<v Speaker 1>hunting black bears in the same woods where grizzlies lived.

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<v Speaker 1>I'd always wanted to see a grizzly. I've always wanted

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<v Speaker 1>to go on an archery hunt for one, and like

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<v Speaker 1>a lot of folks, I'm intrigued by I also have

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<v Speaker 1>a lot of respect for him, which is a manly

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<v Speaker 1>way of saying they scare the soup out of me.

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<v Speaker 1>I'm not scared of much, and I have been in

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<v Speaker 1>places and situations in my law enforcement job when I

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<v Speaker 1>probably should have been scared at that time, but I

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<v Speaker 1>was also focused on the mission hand and fear was

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<v Speaker 1>never a real factor. All that went straight out the

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<v Speaker 1>window when we got to Jeff Lander's primitive outfit and

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<v Speaker 1>bear camp. Jeff is a bow hunter. He and his wife,

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<v Speaker 1>Lanta have become good friends of mine. They're good people

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<v Speaker 1>and she's from Arkansas. Good job, Jeffrey. Anyway, glad I

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<v Speaker 1>got to camp earlier than anticipated, and he said we

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<v Speaker 1>could go out that afternoon. Since we had plenty of

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<v Speaker 1>light left to hunt. They decided not to use the

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<v Speaker 1>electric bikes that they had out forced to travel down

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<v Speaker 1>the gravel in the dirt roads for fear of rounding

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<v Speaker 1>a curve and surprising Old Gribbs. Stories that include surprise

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<v Speaker 1>and grizzly don't usually end well for either party. I

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<v Speaker 1>liked his thinking. The last thing I wanted to do

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<v Speaker 1>was surprise anything that had claws, teeth and was grumpy

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<v Speaker 1>to start with and could run thirty five miles an hour.

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<v Speaker 1>That's like fifty six in Canada. They're even faster up there.

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<v Speaker 1>I didn't want a surprise one, but I did want

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<v Speaker 1>to see one. Jeff hooked us up with our guide Gary.

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<v Speaker 1>That's a good dude, and old Gary knows his way

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<v Speaker 1>around the wilderness, and those bears both kinds playing. I

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<v Speaker 1>got our stuff ready in short ordering. Before we knew it,

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<v Speaker 1>we were heading down a one lane dirt road that

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<v Speaker 1>was about twenty minutes away from the camp. I was

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<v Speaker 1>quizzing Gary on his exploits and grizzly bears and wondering

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<v Speaker 1>if we'd see one before the week was up. He

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<v Speaker 1>said it was a good possibility, but there was no guarantees.

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<v Speaker 1>They're as scared of us as we are them, he said.

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<v Speaker 1>The road we were easing down in Gary's truck wasn't

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<v Speaker 1>much wider than a one lane of a two lane highway.

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<v Speaker 1>Alder maple and pine trees that were thick on each side,

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<v Speaker 1>thick enough that you couldn't see but a few feet

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<v Speaker 1>past the edge of the road. But up ahead, about

0:13:57.280 --> 0:14:00.640
<v Speaker 1>three hundred yards that's two hundred and seventy four into

0:14:00.679 --> 0:14:04.720
<v Speaker 1>Canadian the road opened up on each side. The sun

0:14:04.840 --> 0:14:06.680
<v Speaker 1>was shining and lighting up what looked like a big

0:14:06.720 --> 0:14:10.800
<v Speaker 1>hay pasture, quite a contrast to the darkness that stood

0:14:10.800 --> 0:14:14.640
<v Speaker 1>on each side of the road. I'd learned two things

0:14:14.679 --> 0:14:17.360
<v Speaker 1>about Gary in the short twenty minutes i'd known him.

0:14:17.840 --> 0:14:20.760
<v Speaker 1>He was a religious man. I liked that. And he

0:14:20.840 --> 0:14:23.000
<v Speaker 1>also toted it a a three point thirty eight la

0:14:23.040 --> 0:14:25.800
<v Speaker 1>poor rifle that was secured in a spot beside me

0:14:25.880 --> 0:14:30.520
<v Speaker 1>in the back seat. I like that too. Used correctly,

0:14:31.080 --> 0:14:33.240
<v Speaker 1>both of those can get you out of a tight spot,

0:14:34.320 --> 0:14:37.800
<v Speaker 1>one quicker than the other and one for longer than

0:14:37.800 --> 0:14:41.120
<v Speaker 1>the other. Gary said, we'd walk the last one hundred

0:14:41.160 --> 0:14:43.240
<v Speaker 1>yards down the road and slip up to the edge

0:14:43.640 --> 0:14:45.560
<v Speaker 1>and peek down the woodline to see if we could

0:14:45.560 --> 0:14:48.560
<v Speaker 1>catch a black bear feeding on the ankle high grass

0:14:48.600 --> 0:14:53.040
<v Speaker 1>that they loved this time of year. Good plan, he said,

0:14:53.040 --> 0:14:55.600
<v Speaker 1>he'd done this many times. Found a bear, initiated a

0:14:55.640 --> 0:14:58.360
<v Speaker 1>stalk and got within bow range. That's what we wanted.

0:14:58.920 --> 0:15:01.840
<v Speaker 1>We might as well fill the tag on opening day.

0:15:02.840 --> 0:15:05.000
<v Speaker 1>We were in a single file line until the last

0:15:05.040 --> 0:15:08.240
<v Speaker 1>few steps. That's when Gary motioned for us to be

0:15:08.400 --> 0:15:11.680
<v Speaker 1>quiet and to stand beside him as we crept the

0:15:11.720 --> 0:15:13.520
<v Speaker 1>rest of the way to see down the edge of

0:15:13.520 --> 0:15:16.440
<v Speaker 1>the woods clay in the middle of me. On the

0:15:16.440 --> 0:15:20.440
<v Speaker 1>far right, he whispered, Now, you guys, look down to

0:15:20.520 --> 0:15:23.680
<v Speaker 1>the right. The woodline goes down a lot further than

0:15:23.680 --> 0:15:26.360
<v Speaker 1>it does on this side. I'll check over here on

0:15:26.400 --> 0:15:30.960
<v Speaker 1>the left. We eased along almost in cadence. Two more

0:15:30.960 --> 0:15:33.000
<v Speaker 1>steps and we'd be able to see all the way

0:15:33.040 --> 0:15:36.520
<v Speaker 1>down the field edge. I strained to see anything that

0:15:36.640 --> 0:15:40.480
<v Speaker 1>remotely looked like a bear. I was laser focused on

0:15:40.600 --> 0:15:43.640
<v Speaker 1>everything that was going on around me when Gary whispered,

0:15:44.640 --> 0:15:48.680
<v Speaker 1>don't anybody move. The tone in which he said it

0:15:48.760 --> 0:15:52.160
<v Speaker 1>made me hear look over here at the grizzly bear

0:15:52.240 --> 0:15:57.880
<v Speaker 1>that's about to kill us. All slowly and methodically, I

0:15:58.000 --> 0:16:00.640
<v Speaker 1>turned my head to see two grizzly bear cubs and

0:16:00.680 --> 0:16:05.040
<v Speaker 1>a south stand fifty yards away. The sow was chomping

0:16:05.080 --> 0:16:07.960
<v Speaker 1>down grass like they weren't making it anymore, and the

0:16:08.000 --> 0:16:11.720
<v Speaker 1>both cubs were staring at us. The one in front

0:16:11.760 --> 0:16:14.000
<v Speaker 1>and closest to us was standing on all fours, and

0:16:14.040 --> 0:16:17.120
<v Speaker 1>the one behind him and nearest to the south stood

0:16:17.200 --> 0:16:20.040
<v Speaker 1>up on his hind legs to see over his sibling

0:16:20.120 --> 0:16:23.880
<v Speaker 1>and so he could see what we were. They both

0:16:23.960 --> 0:16:26.480
<v Speaker 1>bolted at the same time and ran away from where

0:16:26.480 --> 0:16:28.920
<v Speaker 1>we were standing, and passing right in front of the

0:16:28.960 --> 0:16:32.840
<v Speaker 1>nose of Mama Bear. And looking back on it now,

0:16:32.920 --> 0:16:35.880
<v Speaker 1>she didn't pay them any attention at first. I'm sure

0:16:35.920 --> 0:16:38.680
<v Speaker 1>they did that, playing and chasing each other all the time.

0:16:38.760 --> 0:16:41.800
<v Speaker 1>It was when they hit the woods and didn't stop

0:16:42.200 --> 0:16:45.200
<v Speaker 1>that she looked at the way they'd left and realized

0:16:45.240 --> 0:16:52.000
<v Speaker 1>they were running away from something. Then she looked back

0:16:52.040 --> 0:16:55.120
<v Speaker 1>to see what they'd run away from, and there we stood,

0:16:56.320 --> 0:16:58.640
<v Speaker 1>all three of us, side by side, looking like a

0:16:58.640 --> 0:17:01.800
<v Speaker 1>big bear hunting oreo with the double stuff On the

0:17:01.880 --> 0:17:05.840
<v Speaker 1>right hand side. Mama Bear stood up on her hind

0:17:05.920 --> 0:17:08.320
<v Speaker 1>legs and stared at us for what seemed like a week.

0:17:09.160 --> 0:17:12.560
<v Speaker 1>I'm not sure what that translates to, and time wise

0:17:12.600 --> 0:17:15.639
<v Speaker 1>in Canadian but in reality it was really only for

0:17:15.680 --> 0:17:19.600
<v Speaker 1>a few seconds. She woofed loud when she stumped her

0:17:19.960 --> 0:17:22.000
<v Speaker 1>front feet down on the ground, and it rattled the

0:17:22.000 --> 0:17:25.520
<v Speaker 1>stuff in my pockets. In my mind immediately calculating the

0:17:25.680 --> 0:17:28.119
<v Speaker 1>number of clean sets of drawers I had back at

0:17:28.119 --> 0:17:31.280
<v Speaker 1>the camp. Should I live through this, for I was

0:17:31.320 --> 0:17:35.640
<v Speaker 1>going to need some. Then as quickly as I processed

0:17:35.720 --> 0:17:39.840
<v Speaker 1>all that, she was gone, disappearing through the same hole

0:17:39.920 --> 0:17:45.200
<v Speaker 1>in the woods her cubs had gone. It was absolutely magnificent.

0:17:45.520 --> 0:17:48.679
<v Speaker 1>She was beautiful, and so were her cubs. I felt

0:17:48.680 --> 0:17:52.560
<v Speaker 1>privileged to have seen them and to have lived through it.

0:17:53.800 --> 0:17:57.080
<v Speaker 1>Clay doesn't remember it being as significant an event that

0:17:57.200 --> 0:17:59.920
<v Speaker 1>I do, which proves my adage of if you want

0:18:00.000 --> 0:18:04.200
<v Speaker 1>want two different accounts of a singular event, get two

0:18:04.240 --> 0:18:11.040
<v Speaker 1>eyewitnesses to the same thing. To the individual perception is reality,

0:18:11.200 --> 0:18:14.080
<v Speaker 1>and mine may have been biased by my innate fear

0:18:14.119 --> 0:18:17.040
<v Speaker 1>of standing unarmed within the rock chunking distance of Asil

0:18:17.160 --> 0:18:20.800
<v Speaker 1>Grizzly and her cubs, my only defense being my inability

0:18:20.840 --> 0:18:25.600
<v Speaker 1>to look like I tasted bad. Clay barely remembers the event,

0:18:25.720 --> 0:18:28.160
<v Speaker 1>and Gary, the guide with whom I spent a week

0:18:28.240 --> 0:18:32.000
<v Speaker 1>spotting in stalking barriers all over British Columbia, probably doesn't

0:18:32.040 --> 0:18:35.919
<v Speaker 1>even remember us being there. Did I manufacture the events

0:18:35.920 --> 0:18:39.520
<v Speaker 1>and how they unfolded? Did I add some spice or

0:18:39.600 --> 0:18:42.960
<v Speaker 1>use poetic license and telling that story about my first

0:18:43.040 --> 0:18:48.320
<v Speaker 1>encounter with a grizzly bear? Absolutely not. Were my perceptions

0:18:48.359 --> 0:18:52.520
<v Speaker 1>of that close encounter romanticized or clouded by how I

0:18:52.640 --> 0:18:58.720
<v Speaker 1>interpreted her reactions to our surprise meeting. Absolutely I don't

0:18:58.760 --> 0:19:01.080
<v Speaker 1>know what was going on inside that bear's head. But

0:19:01.600 --> 0:19:04.360
<v Speaker 1>while lie biologists tell us that for them it's fight

0:19:04.480 --> 0:19:12.080
<v Speaker 1>or flight, and I'm glad you chose the latter, perception

0:19:12.359 --> 0:19:16.680
<v Speaker 1>is as individual as the cat doing the perceiving. That's

0:19:16.680 --> 0:19:19.640
<v Speaker 1>something we can all learn from, and that's your challenge

0:19:19.720 --> 0:19:23.880
<v Speaker 1>this week. Listen to folks tell their own bear stories

0:19:24.359 --> 0:19:26.560
<v Speaker 1>and try to see it from where they were standing.

0:19:27.520 --> 0:19:30.720
<v Speaker 1>You don't have to agree with them, and just as important,

0:19:31.119 --> 0:19:34.399
<v Speaker 1>they don't have to agree with you. It's not a

0:19:34.440 --> 0:19:37.920
<v Speaker 1>new concept to be respectful of another's viewpoint, but it's

0:19:37.960 --> 0:19:41.720
<v Speaker 1>one we're all a little out of practice. Up. We're

0:19:41.760 --> 0:19:45.119
<v Speaker 1>all neighbors on this spinning rock, or, according to some folks,

0:19:45.119 --> 0:19:49.720
<v Speaker 1>this humongous flat thing we're surfing through space. On either way,

0:19:50.119 --> 0:19:54.800
<v Speaker 1>your neighbor is your neighbor. I'm leaving my second trip

0:19:54.840 --> 0:19:57.600
<v Speaker 1>out for now, and I'll talk about that on another day.

0:19:58.280 --> 0:20:01.040
<v Speaker 1>That was a special trip, and part of the reason

0:20:01.119 --> 0:20:04.080
<v Speaker 1>I'm able to talk to you now is a direct

0:20:04.160 --> 0:20:07.960
<v Speaker 1>benefit from that excursion. It's a good one and it

0:20:08.160 --> 0:20:11.119
<v Speaker 1>literally changed the life path for both Clay and me.

0:20:12.280 --> 0:20:15.040
<v Speaker 1>We got some fun content coming out soon on the

0:20:15.119 --> 0:20:19.040
<v Speaker 1>med Eater YouTube channel. Be looking for that announcement in

0:20:19.080 --> 0:20:22.520
<v Speaker 1>This Country Life. We've got a few surprises there too.

0:20:23.560 --> 0:20:26.640
<v Speaker 1>Until next week, this is Brent Reeves, sign it off.

0:20:27.600 --> 0:20:28.400
<v Speaker 1>Y'all be careful.