HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1975-09-17, Page 14MATTE-SIDE
ORCHARDS
Now Open
for the
Season
It is time to pick your own
Fancy Macintosh Apples or
buy them picked.
Apples picked to choose
from are, Lobo, St.
Lawrence, Wolf River.
Also Fresh Honey and 75
lb. Shelburne Potatoes and
various other items.
Open 7 days
a week.
Phone 887-6883
L
Sugar and Spice
by Bill Smiley
Bluevaie
Congress delegate
speaks at WMS
t. Correspondent
Mrs. Joe Walker
Mrs. Kenneth Dickson of Bel-
more was the guest speaker when
the Women's. Missionary Society
of Knox Church met at the home
of Mrs. Gordon Mundell.
Mrs. Dickson was the chosen
delegate from Belmore and Blue-
vale Presbyterian Churches to the
Centennail Congress 1975 rally
held at McMaster University,
Hamilton, June. She gave a full
report of the activities of the rally
which was very interesting and
educational.
Mrs. Galley opened the meet-
ing with the call to worship after
which a hymn was sung. Mrs.
Ross Mann and Mrs. Harvey
Robertson were in charge of
devotions.
Fifty visits to the sick were
recorded. Sixteen members and
one visitor answered the roll call
by naming a minister of the
Presbytery. Mrs. Mundell gave
the treasurer's report and receiv-
ed the offering which was
dedicated by Mrs. Golley.
After reading several portions
from The Glad Tidings on "One
Hundred Years of Missions" the
theme being, "Remembrance,"
"Renewal and Response", Mrs.
Alba Mundell introduced the
guest speaker. She was thanked
by Mrs. Golley and presented
with a gift. Mrs. Golley also
thanked Mrs. Mundell for sharing
her home.
The meeting closed with a
hymn and a prayer, and lunch
was served by the hostess,
assisted by Mrs. Mann and Mrs.
Robertson.
Personals
Mrs. Jim English, coach of the
Bluevale Tri-County Girls Ball
team entertained the girls at her ,:;1
home on Friday evening, to a
barbeque supper. She was assist.
ed by Marg Moffatt and Marie
Walker. They played games after
the supper and' presented their
coach with a gift.
Mr. and Mrs. Earl Weltz of
Walkerton visited with Mr. and
Mrs. Joe Walker and family oil
Thursday evening.
Sunday visitors with Mr. and
Mrs. George Fischer and family
were Mrs. Lloyd Henning, Mrs.
Albert Snell of Caledon East and
Mrs. Dwight Gorrell of Pilot
Mound, Manitoba.
"I wonder what the poor people are
doing today?" murmured my fishing mate,
as we lay back on a bed of moss, our bellies.
stuffed with fried fillet of pickerel, looked
up at a huge blue sky and lit a cigarette._
We had just finished a shore dinner,.
prepared by our guide, and had nothing in
the world to do but have a little rest and go
back and catch some more fish.
No wives nattering, children squabbling,
telephone ringing, tires squealing,
newspapers Wafting headlines.
No decisions to make, disputes to
handle, compromises to make, people to
get sorted out, problems to solve.
It may not be paradise, but Northern
Saskatchewan makes a pretty fair approxi-
mation to it, if you like fishing, and clean
air, and a complete lack of tension, noise
and pollution.
Some of the weekly newspaper people
had elected to go on a fishing trip in some
of the best fishing country in the world. It
was like asking a boozer to go on . a
wine-tasting trip through Southern France.
We were guests of the Saskatchewan
Department of Tourism and Renewable
Resources, quite a mouthful. And • fine
hosts they were. They supplied
transportation, accommodation, boats and
guides. All we had to buy was our food.
Don't ever tell me again that
Saskatchewan means endless miles of
prairie. More than half the province makes
up some of the most striking wilderness in
Canada, thousands of square miles of lakes
and forest.
And theyre not just bragging about that
fishing. I had read of it, and seen some of it
on television. it's real. Time and again
you'll see two, or even three people in one
boat, all with a fish on the line.
Sonic of the fish-hogs from Ontario were
literally hysterical after half a day's
fishing.
It begins like this. The guide takes you
out to a spot, and you troll slowly. In five
minutes you've caught a pike that would
have delighted you back home.
"Better throw it back. Let him grow
up," mutters the guide, laconically. You
are ready to clutch that four-pound pike to
your breast and cry, tearfully: "Nobody's
gonna get this baby away from me." Too
late. The guide has unhooked the fish and
let it swim away.
In the next 10 minutes, you've thrown
back four, about the same size. Suddenly,
your fishing partner tics into a good one,
and with a lot of reel:screeching and
general excitement, he lands one about
nine pounds. "Yea, we'll keep dat one.
He's not bad," says the guide gloomily.
And so on.
Same with pickerel. If you hit a hot spot,
you can "fill up," that is, catch your quota
for the day, in half an hour.
Quotas are generous, and there ar c no
fewer than 12 species of game fish in the
province.
So. much for the fishing. It's so good that
a four-year-old chimpanzee or an 84
year-old senile grandmother could catch
fish. I know. I caught one over nine
pounds. He was only seven when we netted
him, but he's been growing steadily since.
Aside from the fishing, there is the
magnificent feeling of being away from it
all. Miles and miles and miles of clean
water and thousands of acres of bush, and
little old you right in the middle of it.
Most of the northern lakes have only a
few outfitters located on them, and the
government, to cheers from me, is not
leasing more shore property. Without
government intervention, I can see these
beautiful, lonely lakes ravaged by motor-
boats, ringed with cottages, and soggy
with pollution in a very few years.
With 20-odd assorted bodies, men,
women and children, and a most congenial
group we were, I was dropped off, after a
bone-rattling, seven-hour bus ride , at Jan
Lake.
We were all pretty pooped, and I hit the
jackpot. It was my first experience of that
renowned western hospitality. My hostess,
Mrs. Jean Martin, showed me to a fine,
modern, log cabin, completely outfitted
with everything including indoor
waterworks 'and sleeping room for eight. I
had it all to myself. It was like walking
deep into the jungle and being shown to a
room at the Ritz.
The Martins couldn't do enough for me.
'They don't serve food at .their camp (you
cook your own) but insisted i eat all my
meals with them, and refused any
payment. Garnet, the husband, and
Bernard No. I son, fixed me up with a cap,
a jacket, a fishrod and tackle, and Mrs.
Martin insisted on making a shore dinner
for me.
Highlight of my whole trip, perhaps, was
an hour's flight over the area, at .fairly low
level, with Bernard Martin at the controls.
He flies an ancient but sturdy Acronca, and
it was my first flight in a small , light
aircraft for many , a year. My wife would
have had a stroke if she'd seen her old boy
climb into that.
It was quite a thrilling flight, with a view
of lakes and islands as far as you could see.
It was made even more exciting by the
facts that I had no parachute, there was
only one engine, there was no place to land
if the motor conked , except on a lake. And
we had no pontoons.
One other circumstance made the whole
trip a good one. My fishing companion was
Barry Wenger of Winghang a friend of 25
years. It was just by accident we were
thrown together, but I was glad. There's
nothing quite so harrowing as spending
two days in a boat with someone who gets
on your nerves.
Barrio and I had a great time, talking
about our grandchildren, and agreeing that
we get bigger fish than this back on the
Bruce Peninsula.
1
44
Boys results cont'd
MAINTENANCE
Painting & Wallpapering
Window Cleaning & Glazing
Eavestroughing & Cleaning
Floor Cleaning, or Covering
Roofing-- Drywalling
Or Any Odd Job
(Continued from Page 13)
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Book NOW for the
Winter Season'
Wallpaper hg. Ihferiot Ptah titig
14'—THEE BR US8EL8 POSTS, SEPTEMBER 17 1975