Adventure With Dad. Part 1.

Greetings everyone! Well, it’s cold. I guess it could be colder, but not by much for this time of the year. It was only a high of 32F, or 0C, today, and that only lasted for an hour before beginning to drop again. Oh well, it’s that time of the year, nothing to look forward to except cold weather for the next few months. But it does remind me of times my Dad and I would go hiking, or looking for insulators, or looking for old townsites along the railroad to dig for bottles and other items. That’s where our story begins today. “We should try looking for this old town site,” I said to Dad one day, “very little walking to this one.” “That’s what you said last time,” Dad answered. “But this is different,” I said, showing him the map.

I pointed out the road leading right up to the railway tracks. “See, then it’s just a short walk to where the town site is located, I continued. Dad looked. Then he said a second time, “That’s what you said last time.” But a perfect fall day came along and off we went on another adventure. That’s what I liked to call our outings. Sounded better. Dad wasn’t so sure he agreed. It was easy to find the road, it was well traveled. Not a good sign. But it was nice and smooth for a bush road. Well, the first part was anyway.

“I think you’re hitting every bump in the road,” I said. “That’s all there is on this road, bumps,” said Dad. “You should drive more carefully, that’s the third time hitting bottom,” I advised. “BONEHEAD!” was all Dad said. For those of you who might be reading this in a different language, I know that the word ‘bonehead’ does not translate well, therefore a simple definition would be ‘idiot’, but in a nice sort of a way. I think. I just say that it means Dad is enjoying himself. Sounds better. I think. Sigh.

Anyway, our road starting getting a bit narrow. And obviously less traveled. “The road isn’t quite so good here,” I mentioned casually. “This is not a road,” said Dad, “it’s not even a trail, or path, it’s barely an open area between trees.” That would be a good definition for sure. Then we started going downhill. “Kind of rough on this part,” I said. Dad just looked. At the bottom of the hill the road kind of ended. Due to a rather large beaver pond. Though the pond was no longer there. But it was at some point. The railway had blasted the beaver dam since it was too close to the tracks.

Though there was no evidence of the tracks nearby. “Can’t be far from here,” I said. Dad agreed which was amazing. So we decided to walk the rest of the way. At least the mud bottom of the pond was nice and hard. And mostly dry. After about half an hour we came to the creek. Not much of a creek really. There were several trees fallen across the creek that the beavers had cut down. Obviously quite some time ago. A hairy woodpecker was busy on one of them, looking for a meal. I mentioned that to Dad.

“That reminds me,” said Dad, “did you remember to bring our food?” “How could I forget that,” I asked, “you kept mentioning it every 5 minutes before we left.” “That’s because I know you,” said Dad. Not sure what he meant by that. It was a nice sunny day but right then a rather large cloud covered the sun making it feel quite chilly. Dad touched my arm and pointed to the left. Three deer were standing on the edge of the old pond, about 50 feet off, looking our way. Then they slowly walked off into a thick undergrowth of willows and alders.

Dad picked out a good solid tree that lay across the creek for us to use as a bridge. “You go first,” said Dad. Naturally. About half way Dad says, “How does it feel?” “Like a tree,” I responded. “HAHA,” said Dad. I made it across, though one part was a bit tricky due to a badly placed branch, which I had to go around. Dad’s turn. He managed to go around that branch nicely. Amazing. I thought for sure he would fall into the creek right there. Almost across there was a sudden ‘crack’, not loud, but noticeable.

And just as suddenly the tree broke. The look on Dad’s face. Priceless. But he did miss the creek. Instead, he landed in the wet mud beside the creek. Poor Dad. Covered in mud. That was too much. I just couldn’t contain myself. I laughed. And laughed. Until my stomach was sore. For some reason Dad didn’t see the comedy of it all. I tried to explain. But I couldn’t stop laughing long enough.

Oh my. Oops. This has gotten longer than I had planned. Sigh. But I will continue it soon. If I remember. Which sometimes I don’t. Anyway, I hope you enjoy your weekend coming up, and hopefully it will be warmer where you are. God bless!

Steve. ©2026 Steve McLeod.