As I mentioned in my Day 2 post, we went for a short walk on the trail blazed between cabins at Neso Lake just before the afternoon Night on an Old Trade Route concert.
Given that this was a family trail on private property, I wasn't expecting much, but the hike surprised me.
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It had several up and downs, was quite long, and included some of the best mushrooming I'd seen in months, especially given how cool and dry Winnipeg was this spring.
And B and H were ideal mushrooming companions, in that they completely understood my need to crouch in underbrush.
In fact, they were even more accommodating than M, who I sometimes have to browbeat to stop (or to wait, mid-walk...).
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B and H even started pointing out specimens for me to shoot, which was very kind but...I had to explain that I prefer to find the mushrooms myself.
I'm not sure why/how I evolved that preference, but there it is.
When I made my confession to that regard, H nodded and grinned and B heckled, which is a pretty typical response from both of them...heh.
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Which made my discovery on the return trip to the cabin even sweeter: immense mushrooms on the birches near the path.
There was one fairly low that was nearly the size of my head and had a swath eaten out of it like a watermelon!
(This was the prop for the unadvised photo B took that I'll have to pay her not to reveal in annual installments...)
Unfortunately, with mushrooms you have to somehow give a sense of scale or it looks like your typical mushroom. Which is difficult when you shoot macro pics...
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I think the pic I've included here does okay in terms of scale and I like the flare in the corner but as an image, it's not one of my favourites. Oh well...
The third day was cool and windy, and B and H and I were more than a little tired, after the doings, the to-and-fro-ings of the previous two days, so we stayed close to home.
Which meant that instead of venturing out to a previously-unbeknownst-to-me-bog or distant landmark, we scuttled around Flin Flon and environs.
The highlight of the day was rock-picking in a landscape that included enormous veins of quartz. We filled our pockets, debating over good-better-best examples, and both H and I got our billygoat out.
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And B did well, not even bleating at us to GET DOWN or WHAT ARE YOU THINKING, until the very end, when she fell down.
She promptly blamed me, saying that I used my mind power to shove her off the (small) cliff.
I think it was all the rocks in her pocket/head that did her in, personally.
And then there was only the steak dinner (!) H cooked for us before I got to take my place on the bus again.
I know I rely on this far too much, but: Fun!
All photos Flin Flon, MB. May 24 & 25, 2008.
2 comments:
Ha! Only a giant would call that a small cliff! Good thing I'm tough. My hand is still the size of a catcher's mitt, but I can use it.
I'd say wizened instead of tough, myself...
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