A blog about my travels around the world, in search of wild parrots, great paddling opportunities and incredibly eclectic travel experiences, I try to make a difference by connecting people with nature, people with other cultures, and people with themselves by sharing my stories.
Well, not really - but you need to cut me a bit of slack and forgive me if I sound a bit delusional, imagining I've gone back in time.
But it sure seemed like we'd been transported back a couple of hundred years or so, as our group got off the bus for our annual Travel Media Association of Canada 2012 conference's "Dine Around" event.
Riding shotgun, I really wanted to yell, "Cue the Budweiser theme!" - but didn't.
(The event sends groups of travel professionals to various eateries around the conference host city, without telling them beforehand where they'll be eating.)
As we got off our shuttle bus, we were greeted by a lady in a bonnet and a dress that probably went out of style the same time men's tricorn hats ceased to be considered fashionable.
After introducing herself, she led us to our waiting transportation - an old red wooden wagon with a pair of draft horses yoked to it.
However, this was not Busch Stadium in St. Louis, so I had to refrain from asking where the Budweiser was being chilled and try not to hum the organ music played there whenever the Cards are in a rally.
Our two-horsepower wagon took us on a tour around the village and finished up at the King's Head Tavern, where we were to eat our dinner.
By now, you may have figured out that although I may be delusional for other reasons, I was not imagining that we'd gone back in time; rather, we were guests at Kings Landing, a re-created historical village on the banks of the St. John River.
However, we would not get our dinner for free - like troubadours of old, we had to play for our dinner, that is to say, we had to provide percussion on spoons and Bodhran (Irish) drums for Michelle and Don, the entertainment committee for King's Landing.
After trying our best not to mess up the duo's singing, guitar-playing and fiddling too badly with our less-than-rhythmic drumming and spooning, upstairs we went.
Hmmm..mmm...they look a lot like that crazy lady and mad maestro...
That's when it got really crazy...
We're sitting waiting for our salads and drinks, when this really strange lady screams and runs into the room, sits on the floor and proceeds to tell us how she's lost her maestro, then lists off all the rules of etiquette she's broken.
She tears off into another room, and she must have found him, because in a few minutes, she's back, male in tow. The maestro looks almost as crazy as she does - his hair looks a little bit like one of the wacky scientists from the TV show Ancient Aliens. (If you've seen the show, you'll know who I mean; if you haven't, you won't want to look - it might hurt your eyes.)
Anyway, they kept reappearing and disappearing throughout the course of our evening, she begging to be his protege, he constantly refusing. In the end, she composed herself enough to trick him into marriage, and presumably they lived happily ever after.
Meanwhile, we were enjoying a wonderful comfort-food meal, cooked completely old-style: roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, mashed potatoes, green beans, carrots, salad and home-baked brown molasses bread. It was all washed down with red or white wine - or, if you prefer malt to grapes, a pint of Simeon Jones' ale, a specialty product made by the Fredericton-based Picaroon's.
"Where's my maestro?"
That was all capped off with coffee or tea, some warm gingerbread with whipped cream - and a tasty alternative to pumpkin pie: Maple brandy squash pie.
The food was excellent, but the entertainment really made the meal.
Michelle (minus the crazy) and Don (minus the weird hair) performed a few more rousing numbers for us, then it was time to click our heals together, repeat, "There's no place like TMAC" several times, and lo-and-behold! we found ourselves back in our own century, on our bus heading back to the City of Stately Elms.
Well, now I'll share with you a new experience: snickered at by salmon.
There's nothing quite like it ... especially when you can almost swear they're sticking their tongues out at you as they jump all around your boat. But I'm getting ahead of myself, here.
So after learning to tie flies two days ago, then getting a lesson in fly-casting the next day, it was time to put all that learning to the ultimate test: it was time to try to catch fish with a fly rod.
My technique needs work ...
As I've mentioned previously, I've never fly-fished before, never even held a fly rod in my hand.
But today, I am no longer a fly-fishing virgin.
However, whether or not the loss of this virginity was a pleasant experience all depends on how you define "pleasant."
I was the last of our group to head out; the first two came back with no bites, but some good photos and videos of other anglers landing salmon. The next two both caught big fish (and have the pictures to prove it).
Then, it was my turn.
I headed out with Brian Peterson, my guide for the afternoon, and we zipped down the Miramichi River to our first pool of the day.
And once I began casting, it was obvious that my technique needed some work. I only tangled the line, oh, 10 or 12 times (the first 15 minutes) and missed my guide with every cast but one (hey, it was barely embedded into the back of his shell, and came out easily leaving just a pinprick of a hole - and like Brian said, "Couldn't have been that bad if I didn't feel it...")
The fish were there - they were jumping - they just weren't jumping to bite my fly.
Guide Brian Peterson steers us downriver
At one point, needing to take some pictures and videos of someone actually fishing, I traded places with Brian and he started casting.
That's when a salmon nailed the hook.
Brian said, "You want to play this one?" and so of course, I immediately exchanged my camera for the rod.
It was about a three to four pound fish I had on my line. Following Brian's exhortations, I kept the tip of my rod pointed up and and the line tight. The fish jumped - once, then twice - a beautiful flash of piscine silver splashing in and out of the water, as I worked to reel him in.
He got closer and closer ... Brian got the net ready to bring him into the boat ... and then the fish spit out the fly and was gone.
No, I don't have pictures or videos to prove it - other than the one featured here of Brian asking me if I want to play it - so you'll just have to take my word for it.
Lemmee at that fish!
And another thing: unless you're a New Brunswick resident, and unless the fish you catch is a grilse (a salmon that has returned to fresh water after a single winter at sea) the practice for all salmon fishing on the Miramichi is catch-and-release.
So as far as I'm concerned, I caught it - I just released it a bit earlier than is usual, that's all. And, hey - don't a lot of virgins have a problem with early release?
Anyway, they continued to jump, tease and at least metaphorically, if not literally, stick their tongues out at us. No more bites were forthcoming, even though my casting did improve a bit over the course of the 2-1/2 hours I spent on the river.
Still, it was a good day. I spent it on the river, and to modify that old maxim about fishing, a bad day spent on the river beats a good day doing pretty much anything else. And this was anything but a bad day.
And like another fly fishing guide, Bev Gaston, told us: "A day spent fishing the Miramichi doesn't count as a day of your life."
So I not only did my bit to prolong the lives of Miramichi salmon, I also added a day to mine.
So once we'd learned to tie flies, Sunday (and I use the term "learn" very loosely!) the next logical step in becoming a fly fisher is learning how to cast.
Learning about salmon
Like fly-tying, it can often be easier said than done.
Before we ventured out to the river in front of the Atlantic Salmon Museum , we took a tour of the museum.
If you're interested in salmon, fish or fishing in general, or just general conservation, it's definitely a "must-do" on your list.
It comes complete with dioramas, a hall of fame (including famous Boston Red Sox slugger Ted Williams - a long time regular and visiting angler in this area), video displays, 3D models, maps, a library collection devoted solely to fishing, and, of course, fish - including a life-sized replica of the largest Atlantic salmon ever caught: 72 lbs, 68-1/2 inches long. There is also an on-site aquarium.
It's a great place to get you excited about fly-fishing - even if you've never done it before.
Bev Gaston, a longtime guide on the Miramichi, was our group instructor. He kept things very simple and very positive. And lo and behold, it actually turned out to be a bit easier than tying flies. We all got the technique down pretty quickly - at least, casting on dry land with no flies.
Bev Gaston shares some tips
But as our instructor explained, it becomes a lot different when you try it in a boat or even on land when you have to contend with a wind and the current of the river. We quickly discovered that when we tried casting into the river. And with a strong wind blowing.
Still, we were hopeful we might be able to actually do some real fishing. As to whether or not we'd actually catch anything... well, that remains to be seen.
<>
The ins and outs of salmon
In my next blog post, I'll be reporting on how we made out.
Now of course, I'm hoping that I won't end up flapping my arms about like a parrot in a huff when we head out in the boat (not a canoe, we can't paddle this trip because of the high river) to actually try some real fishing, on the Miramichi River. Here's hoping I can reel something in... (besides an old boot, of course!)
Be sure to tune in next post, same bat-time, same bat-channel.
Just a few minutes' drive down the road from the Atlantic Salmon Museum, it's a natural fit to pop in for a visit to the smokehouse if you're in the neighborhood, checking out the museum.( Especially if you've just sampled some of their delicious smoked salmon the night before!)
Let's go smoke some salmon!
Now I'm not a huge fan of smoked salmon; however, this was the best I've ever tasted.
Most of the time, this particular food has an overpowering smoky taste, which I don't care for.
However, this salmon is cold-smoked (smoked longer at a cooler temperature) as opposed to hot-smoked (smoked faster at a higher temperature), and it does make a difference. And for the smoking process, they use hickory wood chips.
The flavor of this salmon is much more delicate than any other I've ever tasted, it's not nearly as strong.
The other aspect of this business I found to be really cool is the fact the owner also builds and sells cedar strip canoes through Oak Ledge Canoes.
One of them - a beautifully crafted red canvas cedar strip canoe - is on display in the front office of the smokehouse. Just looking at it made me want to pick it up, portage it across the road and go for a paddle in the Miramichi River.
Anyone for a paddle?
At first glance, that seems like a bit of an odd combination of businesses to be involved in.
But if you give it a little bit of thought, it makes sense, really...you do have to fish for the salmon to smoke it, and it does help to have a boat to fish in. (Not that they really do it that way, but it has a nice ring to it.)
The business just opened in December 2011, and they are already exporting their product to Montreal and Toronto. Down the road, they are working at exporting to India and China.
While visiting, I took a tour of the facility, being shown the various steps and machines used to create the end product.
Now while I don't know much more about how they smoke salmon than what I've described here, I do know the salmon from the Miramichi Smokehouse tastes awfully good, especially when it's served up on crackers with cream cheese
And I also know that these are crackers I do not intend to share with Polly - or any other parrot, for that matter ...
I've been fishing with tackle, spin-casting from shore, from boats and canoes; I've been deep-sea fishing in the Florida Keys; but I have never even picked up a fly rod.
That's why the next few days in New Brunswick should be interesting.
I'm staying at the O'Donnell's Cottages http://www.odonnellscottages.com/ in Doaktown, N.B. on the banks of the mighty Miramichi River.
And I'm here to fly fish - or at least to try to learn how to fly fish. And if my first day is any indication, it's going to be a steep learning curve for Yours Truly.
Outside the Atlantic Salmon Museum.
After settling in at the lodge, the group I was traveling with headed to the Atlantic Salmon Museum http://www.atlanticsalmonmuseum.com/ to learn all about this fish, the N.B. sport fishing industry in general - and how to actually tie flies.
Greeted warmly by Linda Gaston, the museum's executive director, she quickly introduced us to Bev Gaston, the man who'll be guiding us around the next few days. He in turn introduced us to Kim Mertens, fly tyer. (Hey, that's what her business card says!)
She ties flies. She also runs several programs that teach kids how to tie flies - kids as young as five - to get them interested in the outdoors.
Let me tell you, those kids could probably tie better flies than me.
It's not an easy art to master. Apparently, to be able to make money at it, you have to be able to tie at least 10 an hour.
Kim shows the art of fly-tying
Well, I won't be quitting my day job any time, soon - it took more than an hour to tie one, as my attempts at parroting Kim's moves were pretty lame - and then only with a lot of patient help from Kim was I able to complete it. By the time she was done helping fix my fly faux-pas, it almost looked reasonable.
Almost.
My fly - in all it's ... glory?
Yeah, I'd pretty much starve if I had to do this for a living.
At some point, we're supposed to do some paddling, on the Miramichi; too, and I know I can do that, all right ... but for now, I have to focus on getting this fly-fishing stuff down pat.
Up next: We learn how to fly-cast...I just hope I'm better at casting than I am at tying.
So I'm sitting perusing through my Newsfeed on Facebook. I notice another post from a friend who uses the app called "The Travel List Challenge." I checked it and saw that I've only ticked off SIX (yup, 6!) of the so-called Top 100 Places to See Before You Die.
That strikes me as odd, since I am a travel writer, I've been to five of the world's seven continents and had wonderful experiences. I'm scratching my head, pondering this, thinking, "Jeez, I guess I haven't really been to all that many amazing places..." - and then it hits me: this is just someone else's arbitrary list.
Just because someone else thinks the places on this list are "must-do's" does not mean they have to be "must-do's" for anyone else.
So I sat down to write my own list. Except it's a bit different; it's My OWN Travel Top 100 List of Places to See/Experiences to Enjoy Before I Die - but it's split in two: Places/experiences I've already enjoyed; and places/experiences I still want to enjoy.
Making my list, checking it twice - will my next trip be knotty or gneiss?
You may notice the latter list is a bit longer than the former. But hey, there are always new places, new experiences we want to try, so the list is always growing. Actually, both lists grow, since every experience gets shifted back from one list to the other once it's "in the bag" so to speak. It's just that thinking of new things to do always happens quicker and easier than actually experiencing them. And if you're really alive, you should always be adding new things to the second half of your list.
By the way, I almost hesitate to use the term "in the bag," as there can be a connotation associated with that term that I'm just bagging trips (similar to the "peak-bagging" mind-set of some amateur mountain climbers) to add to my list. These are all experiences I genuinely would love to enjoy while I'm still on this planet, though. Maybe I will, maybe I won't - but it sure won't be for lack of trying.
Anyway, here's my list:
My OWN Travel Top 100 List of Places to See/Experiences to Enjoy Before I Die
Done:
Gone scuba diving with sharks in Maui.
Rode a hot air balloon across the Serengeti, Africa.
Seen gorillas in the wild in central Africa.
Camped and game viewed in the Serengeti, Africa.
Visited Machu Picchu.
Seen wild parrots at clay licks in South America.
Canoed the Okefenokee Swamp among the alligators and wonderful bird life.
Whitewater rafted in North America.
Whitewater rafted in South America.
Whitewater rafted in Africa.
Rode elephants in Asia.
Seen orang-utans in the wild, in Asia.
Mushed dog sleds through the Canadian Rockies.
Taken an ocean cruise on one of the big cruise ships.
Visited Mayan ruins in Central America.
Kayaked the FloridaEverglades.
Ridden a train from one coast of Canada to the other.
Paddled on multi-day trips in six of the 10 Canadian provinces.
Rode down the Chao Phraya River, Thailand, on a converted rice barge from the ancient capital Ayuthaya to the modern capital Bangkok.
Experienced TigerTemple in Thailand.
Paddled in the Amazon jungle (Ecuador).
Camped and paddled (multi-day trip) in the desert (specifically, the Alberta badlands.)
Snorkelled with wild dolphins in the ocean surrounding Hawaii (the BigIsland).
Gone for a submarine ride, Maui.
Gone “sea-walking” (~ deep-sea diving) in Borneo.
Seen grizzly and black bears feeding at a salmon run in Alaska.
Gone deep-sea fishing in the Florida Keys.
Flown falcons and hawks in a “falconer for the day” experience on Vancouver Island.
Paddled among alligators in Florida on the EconRiver.
Snow shoed in Gatineau Park, Canada.
Hiked along the coast of Naikoon Provincial Park, Queen Charlotte Islands, B.C., Canada.
Gone “glamping” at the Rockwater Secret Cove Resort, SunshineCoast, B.C., Canada.
Whitewater rafted through Hell’s Gate on B.C.’s FraserRiver.
Taken a multi-day horseback riding trip in the Canadian Rockies.
Paddled to Grey Owl’s cabin in Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan.
Gone horseback riding in the Peruvian Andes.
Spent a night in the Presidential Suite at the Shangi-La, Putrajaya.
Visited the Rock’n’Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland, Ohio.
Flown in an open cockpit biplane (just like the World War I flying ace!)
Got sharks?
To do:
See wild tigers from elephant back in RoyalChitwanNational Park.
Stay in the treetops accommodations at RoyalChitwanNational Park.
See wild African grey parrots in central Africa.
Whitewater rafting in Asia.
Whitewater rafting in Australia.
Whitewater rafting in Europe.
Ride camels across the dessert.
Sail down the Nile on a felucca.
Ride the Orient Express.
Ride the Eastern & Oriental Express.
Stay in the Somerset Maugham Room in Bangkok’s Oriental Hotel.
See komodo dragons in Indonesia.
Mush dog sleds on an overnight trip, anywhere.
See wild pandas in China.
Take an ocean cruise on a tramp steamer in the seas off Southeast Asia.
Travel to India on an ecoadventure. Paddle in multi-day trips in the other four Canadian provinces and the three Territories.
Paddle in multi-day trips in the other four Canadian provinces and the three Territories.
Visit the backwaters of Kerala (India).
Ride the Palace on Wheels in India.
Ride with Rovos Rail in Africa.
Ride the Royal Scotsman in the UK.
Ride horseback in Mongolia, and, if possible, hunt with golden eagles.
See the Spirit Bears of PrincessRoyalIsland, B.C., Canada.
Swim with wild manatees in Florida.
Kayak the Vava’u Islands in the south Pacific.
Kayak in Halong Bay, Vietnam.
Paddle the MekongRiver in southeast Asia.
Stay at the CanopyTower in Panama.
Canoe the Zambezi in Africa.
Safari in the Okavango Delta, Botswana, Africa.
Visit the Pro Football Hall of Fame in Canton, Ohio.
See the pyramids and Sphinx in Egypt.
See the ancient Greek ruins like the Delphi Oracle and the Acropolis.
Play baccarat in a casino, while wearing a tux and drinking a Vesper martini (Vegas or Monte Carlo, doesn’t matter).
Go to the UKSpySchool.
Have a drink in the Kasbah in Algeria.
Go storm-watching on Vancouver Island’s West Coast.
Sail around the Caribbean (on a sailboat).
Spend several days enjoying the outdoors at the King Pacific Lodge, B.C., Canada.
Visit Stonehenge, UK.
Visit Tintagel, UK, the purported birthplace of King Arthur.
Visit Glastonbury Tor, the supposed original burial place of King Arthur.
Take a Sherlock Holmes Tour of London, UK.
Watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York, live.
Go to a New York Jets’ home game.
Go to a Kansas City Chiefs’ home game.
Visit Petra, in Jordan.
Visit Wadi Rum in Jordan (Lawrence of Arabia was filmed there).
See wild cockatoos in Indonesia.
Have a drink at the Raffles Hotel, in Singapore.
Hike the Black Forest, in Germany.
Sail in a Viking longship in a fjord in Norway.
Smoke a cigar and drink rum at La Floridita, Havana, Cuba.
Go to a St. Louis Cardinals home game.
Spend an evening at the Explorers Club in New York.
Attend Oktoberfest in Germany.
Visit the CanadianCanoeMuseum, in Peterborough, Ontario.
Visit the National Aviary, in Pittsburgh, PA.
See a sumo wrestling match in Tokyo, Japan.
Machu Picchu: it took my breath - literally.
Now that you've read it, maybe you recognize some things you've done, places you've been to - and places/experiences that I've listed here that you would also like to enjoy. That's cool.
But more important than that - go out and make your own "bucket list" of travel places/experiences that you genuinely want to enjoy - and don't worry about what's on mine or on anyone else's list.
Wandering around on Facebook the other day, I noticed one of my friends posted something about the Abbotsford (B.C.) air show, which takes place every August. For some reason, it piqued my memory about the time I made like Snoopy, the World War I flying ace. (No, not the video game - the "REAL" WWI flying ace, as read in Peanuts comics or seen on "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" animated Halloween special.)
Really. I lived my "Snoopy" fantasy not in a video game, but in real life.
Well, sort of ...
I was on a group tour of the Valiant Air Command Warbird Air Museum, (which, by the way, is hosting its own 2012 airshow, starting March 9), located near Titusville, Florida. We'd spent the previous day on the water, paddling down the Econ River. This day, we were focused on the air. While waiting for the tour to begin, I noticed an open cockpit biplane sitting on the tarmac outside the museum. Then I noticed a sign offering rides in the plane.
Stearmanbiplane - my transport for the day.
While not exactly a WWI plane - it was a 1930's Stearman biplane, used to train American combat pilots between the two world wars - it was close enough for me.
The flights are not included as part of the museum tour; it is run by Warbird Flights and it is booked separately. And in this instance, it was not part of our scheduled tour. But I quickly convinced our tour leader to let me "play hooky" and trade some ground time for some time in the air.
I quickly made my arrangements, then began my wait. And wait...and wait...I thought, "I'll never get out of Casablanca..." Oops! Sorry! There's another one of those "Casablanca flashes" I get from time to time (well, it is the 70th anniversary, after all...)
Eventually, the wait ended. As we rose up into the air off the tarmac, I finally caught my breath – we were airborne! Now I could actually relax and enjoy the experience of the wind rushing past me in the open cockpit of the Stearman.
Exhilaration quickly replaced my nervousness about taking my first flight in a open cockpit airplane. While the worst part of the trip was waiting around the hangar to go up, the actual flying itself was much too invigorating to waste any time worrying – even when the pilot asked me if I wanted to take over and "drive" for a while.
If you're in the Titusville, Florida area March 9-12, 2012,
you might want to check out the air show.
I tentatively took the control stick and followed his instructions to keep the top of the fuselage level with the horizon. I was only "driving" for a few minutes, but during that few minutes, I gained a very healthy respect for "fly boys" who piloted these kinds of planes. It took incredible concentration on my part just to keep the plane level. And I didn't have to worry about fuel, air speed, communicating with air traffic control towers or any of the other myriad thoughts that occupy pilots in the air.
During the 20-minute flight, we did not spy any red Fokker triplanes; however, the thrill of playing "Snoopy, the World War I Flying Ace" in search of his nemesis, the Red Baron, was too much. When we found a boat on the river far below that wanted to play "tag" with us as we banked back and forth above it, I couldn’t resist parroting Snoopy, by shouting, "Curse you, Red Baron!" just once.
View from the cockpit.
The museum itself occupies 10 acres of property at the Space Center Executive Airport in Titusville. It displays, maintains and restores all types of aircraft that were indigenous to the world's military air forces going all the way back to WWI and covering present-day aircraft.
The main display area is approximately 30,000 square feet in size and is wide and high enough to accommodate the wingspan and tail assembly of all but the largest bombers.
In addition to the main hangar bay, an area of 15,000 square feet is dedicated to the display of memorabilia associated with the "Valiant" individuals who flew and maintained these aircraft.
If you really want to experience living flying, though, combining the tour with a flight makes for a much better experience than just a tour alone...
