So Adamm’s first foray into hiking off the beaten path didn’t go so well. But like a true warrior, he refused to let the cowardly sneak attack by the wasps deter him. We returned to the woods along the Oshawa Creek today, only this time we had backup.
We had our other brother with us.
Wyatt and I used to hike along these paths all the time. Sometimes just the two of us, but often with other friends. While those friends might have changed over the years, the core experience never did.
Going along the Oshawa Creek is rarely the same experience twice, because there are a number of different paths you can take, but along the water edge and deeper into the forest on both sides, and they often intersect at odd places. So you can hike the same creek twice and have it feel like two completely different trips.
I’m afraid for this adventure Wyatt is the one who is going to have all the best pictures. I only stopped a couple of times to take super close up pictures of tree sap and some bugs humping on a devoured plant
Dang nab it, I couldn’t get the camera to focus properly. But that’s why Wyatt had the good camera. For the most part, it was Wyatt taking the pictures while I followed Adamm as we traversed past the point of our wasp ambush (on the opposite side of the creek). Wyatt briefly stopped to cross the creek and see if he could find my glasses, but he soon realized that I had not exaggerated about the wasp presence, and made a hasty retreat.
What surprised us most about the creek was the number of huge salmon we saw the entire way (and a few dead ones too). I waded in at one point and they were swimming within a couple feet of me, barely noticing my presence. Adamm also noticed a hawk circling around in the sky above us. Wish I had my glasses on for that.
Before we reached the bridge at Taunton, we found a clearing where some people had tried to build a tree fort or something and used it as a spot to build a campfire, old school style. Like pros, we did it with one match…
…well, we would have if the matches worked. These so-called “strike anywheres” would not strike anywhere. In the end, we used a butane lighter to set the bundle of matches alight and dropped them into the kindling under our fire teepee.
As the fire came under control we started roasting weiners Wyatt had brought along.
And then he broke out a small gas stove and cooked up some mushrooms.
But the weirdest part came when we all swore we heard an electronic noise, like from a phone… only not a tone that belonged to any of our phones. Wyatt went off to investigate, came back later having found nothing. Later on we heard police sirens coming down Taunton and stopping not too far away.
We thought maybe someone had seen our campfire and reported us–in this day and age it seemed like something that might happen. Our imaginations were getting the best of us.
Of course, that made things worse for Adamm, who has an even more active imagination that both of us combined, and he was getting seriously freaked out by our reactions, especially since we didn’t want to elaborate on WHY we thought those noises meant something. We did our best to reassure him it was nothing.
So imagine his reaction when, as our dinner was almost over and I pointed out the sun was starting to drop down to the treeline, we heard an eerie sound coming from both everywhere and nowhere…
It was like the creepy haunted house music you’d expect from a 50s horror movie, and it was coming FROM INSIDE THE CAMPSITE.
Wyatt looked around confused, having no clue what to make of it, but Adamm? Adamm’s eyes bulged out as if the icy black hand of death had just gripped his shoulder and asked him if he knew what time it was.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.
“Hi Gill. Yeah, everything’s fine. Where are you? At the mall? Okay, we’ll be heading back soon.”
You should have seen the look of relief on Adamm’s face when I pulled out the phone. And honestly, I can’t blame him. I was borrowing Gill’s phone and I’ve always hated that ringtone.
Shortly after that we made to the bridge at Taunton and hiked back home by following the roads. It was a great end to a great day. Seriously, I can’t imagine a better outcome for it… well, I can, but it involves a flame thrower, revenge upon the wasps, and the successful rescue of my glasses.
I hope Adamm finds some friends at school this year who are interested enough in his stories of adventure along the creek that they too will want to come along and explore.