I’m reaching you by means of a
computer balanced on top of a garbage can located on the Camp Tuffit Roadway,
just off Lake Mary Ronan. It’s early-morning dark here, and my computer screen
and keyboard glow with an insistence uncommon to the off-shore forest
understory.
We get neither cell nor internet
service at our cabin. To access the internet, I had to walk down the camp
roadway to this garbage can stuffed partway under an overhanging bush. The
cabins all around me, though fully occupied, remain dark.
Modern primitive, this.
We have been spending most of our
time “princess fishing,” which entails me baiting the hook and removing fish
while Princess Desiree does the actual fishing. But before we make any
judgments about these arrangements, be advised that Desiree cleans and fully
processes the fish once we get back to the cabin.
I drink a Cold Smoke beer and watch on in admiration.
—Mitchell Hegman
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