TIME FOLLOWS ME

CHAPTER TWELVE JULY 4TH INDEPENDENCE DAY

CHAPTER TWELVE

JULY 4TH INDEPENENCE DAY

I was feeling pretty good being up here in the mountains, but I was also getting a bit anxious to keep on traveling. I didn't know where I was going. I thought I was going to Vancouver and so would have to hitchhike back up North again to get back on the Trans Canada Highway. I didn't think it would be too hard.

Rich was going to California later, but was not sure when. He was going to spend at least another few weeks visiting. Wayne and Brenda and baby were quite a family and the baby liked to be held by me. Brenda talked about Kent State University. Apparently it was one of the most radical universities and they were against the Vietnam War as were many campuses across the country.

As I asked questions and we talked, Brenda would tease me a bit about my Canadian accent. " You don't have an accent do you EHHH?"

"Nope, it's just the way we talk, how 'bout you eh?

"You got more an accent than me," and she would laugh at my reply cause she thought it was so funny.

When the State Guard came in and shot the three students in a burst of insanity, the protesters there disappeared. Brenda said the students just went back to class and didn't talk or organize anymore. "It was like night and day after the shootings."

Brenda said, " Why not hitchhike to California?" "When I started this trip," I said, " I'm going to try everything," and she smiled.

"You'll see a lot if you go to California."

I knew she was right and I made up my mind to go to California, Steinbeck's mystical land and the home of some of my rock and pop hero's, Neil Young and The Beach Boys. I felt like I wanted to dip my toes into the Pacific Ocean and walk the beach with "Little Surfer Girl" in my head.

So it was the July 4th weekend, Independence Day and probably the biggest holiday in the States. I had been to Victoria Day and saw the fireworks but it wasn't a very big thing for me. I sensed right away that this would be a bit different and I was happy that work would stop and we would have a celebration party.

After breakfast on Saturday morning, Wayne announced that we were going on a fishing trip down one of the rivers that ran through the mountains. They had a few fishing poles and I think after we smoked up, we headed out down the mountain at a leisurely pace. I found this adventure really fun. We were a strange looking caravan of hillbillies, campers, country and city folks, and a hitchhiker, all out on foot to catch our dinner.

Wayne said, "The River has the best damn brown trout that can be found. All you need to do is dip your pole into the little pools and you'll be pulling out trout."

I felt like this was a pretty tall tale but I was willing to go along with it. I asked what I could use and Wayne said, "Rich and you are goin' to use willow branches with a safety pin on the end of a line." This was just a piece of fishing line. Rich and I were both had our willow branches and we fashioned the pin on the end of the line. I felt like Tom Sawyer on one of his Big Adventures. I felt a little giddy with excitement. What if I didn't catch anything? I knew the others except Rich were good at this, and we wasted no time once we bush-wacked through to the stream's edge. It wasn't as large as I thought it would be which surprised me, but it was plenty abundant. We used worms on the end of the hook and the fish I can tell you really liked those worms.

The guys with the small rods just had to cast it into a pool and in a minute they would have hooked one out about a foot long. I tried feeling a little discouraged. I had tried fishing in Collingwood a few times with my friend's fathers and had gone down to the harbour to fish off the furthest pier. I thought it was a lot of work biking and walking for nothing. Just sitting there seemed to be against my nature. I had to be moving, up and down, never standing still, catching a fly ball on Victoria Public School field, chasing down a grounder. I didn't see how anyone could enjoy this fishing thing. They said it was relaxing, and you needed some patience! Well, what good was relaxing anyway? And patience, as far as I could see was an overrated virtue no matter what St. Augustine said four-hundred years ago. And he was dead right, or right dead?

I felt the tug of my line and jerked up quickly. I had caught one and angled it over to the bank. It was a good size and I let out a yell. Wayne congratulated me and I put the fish in a small bucket each of us had brought along. The fish was a beautiful speckled brown and it sparkled in the sun through the trees. I felt like somehow one with nature in this place. It seemed to be magical.

I dipped my willow branch back in and soon pulled in a few more. I felt proud of myself that I was bringing home the dinner! Roy and Wayne and the others were going "gang-busters", and when we did a count at the end of the day we had sixty-five brook trout. Wayne said, "That oughta do it." I was amazed at the number they caught. I had caught eleven fish, more that I had caught in my entire life and even to this day. Even with this modest haul, I had amazed myself with what I had caught with a willow branch. I thought some of those old stories you hear are not all made up. Look what you could do with stuff right at your fingertips.

We walked back to camp as the sun sank over the mountains. When we got back to camp, I could see that Brenda was happy with our catch. I told her " I caught eleven." She said, "See, I told you, you could do it! Now I need some help cleaning the fish."

We went down to the stream just below the camp and started cleaning all the fish with bowie knives. I didn't like running my fingers through the guts of the fish, but I knew I wouldn't like eating intestines. We got them all cleaned and broke out the beers and passed round some smoke. 'Round the campfire was the central hub of activity. Their Dad came over with some more beers and we began cooking the fish after Brenda had dipped each one in flower and pan-fried them in butter. The smell coming off the iron skillet was mesmerizing. I felt very high and a bit drunk at the same time. The fish and potatoes and corn were delicious and we seemed to have an endless supply. It felt kind of biblical, the story of the fish and loaves.

We started with nothing and now we had all we could eat and more. I remember there were a lot of laughing and some conspiratorial talking between Roy and Wayne. I was so happy I didn't care. I think there might have been some singing starting up and they heard I played a bit of guitar. They pulled one out from somewhere and I played a few songs. I wasn't feeling self-conscious because I was so high. Played a few songs that went over well.

I noticed Brenda give Wayne "a look", that said, "Don't go and do anything foolish". This was of course the July 4th Weekend and Wayne said, "There's got to be some fireworks." Turns out Wayne had hatched a plan from some dark recess of his brain, probably the area were he keeps nasty pictures of Vietnam. He had got a hold of some nitro-glycerin and was going to set it off in the mountains. So Roy and him got into the truck in whatever shape they were in, and went up the mountain. I wasn't too concerned as I figured this is just what Americans did on this day.

After about half hour of waiting, the sun well below the Western peak, we heard this really loud explosion that echoed off the opposite mountain and back again to us. "Wow, that was some blast," was all I said. After the explosion was this silence. It was a silence that followed something that had been man-made. I preferred the silence.

In a little while Wayne and Roy came bounding back to the camp like a pair of hound dogs with big smirks on their faces and didn't say anything. Brenda gave Wayne a long thoughtful look. I remember going back to my tent after looking up at the enormous cover of stars. It had become colder and I had to stay close to the fire to keep warm. I remember passing out and having all these pleasant wild dreams but couldn't remember the details.

The next morning I awoke with a really foggy head. Didn't talk much but everyone was in a good mood. I had been in the camp for a week. Brenda and Baby needed to go into town and get some supplies and bring it back to camp. Brenda also wanted to see her Mom.

I decided that I would continue on my trip. I said a fare thee well to Rich and Speaker who were going to stay in the mountains for a while long with Wayne. Rich gave me his Mum's number in San Francisco and said, "Be sure to call her if you get into San Fran." I said, "I will thanks." I felt like I was leaving a brother.

We left back to town in Idaho, the way we come in, descending through the clouds with sunlight cutting through the mist like swords. We cleared the mountain road and were back on the tarmac with white lines again calling us forward.

Brenda and I fell into an easy conversation, as we talked a little more about ourselves. Pulled up in front of the house in Idaho Falls and were greeted by Mom who immediately hugged Baby and we all tumbled after her into the house.