Not all my adventures start on the trail. Often it is on the route to or from the trail that is most interesting. On a last trek out towards Barrie I stopped to take a picture of a young porcupine sitting in a small fir sapling on the side of the road. He must be quite young, as normally porcupines keep under cover during the day and come out at night. Today I took the same route, and there he is, still munching his way across a line of immature firs by the side of the road. I am not sure what he will do once that last tree is gone, as he will need to head across the road or slog through the snow covered fields, but I will be watching out for him.
We headed down towards Midhurst to a section of the Ganaraska Trail off of Gill Road. There is a parking area but with all this snow, parking might be difficult. Once on the trail the snow is perfect for snow shoeing, soft and fluffy, and crisscrossed with the tracks of small animals. The path is also bisected by many snowmobile trails that run through this section of Orrock Forest Tract. Despite the cold weather we have been having, there are still areas of mud and water from springs, and several times we had to make some detours. Eventually we left the Ganaraska trail altogether and heading east and north along side trails. The trees were heavy with snow, occasionally falling with a thump around us. The silence was otherwise complete except for our breathing, until the same train that travels through Copeland forests roars by, shattering the silence.
We continued on, following the path north to parallel Old Second Road. This trail is little used and the snow was thick and heavy. A great work out for the leg muscles even on this flat terrain. This had been an uneventful trek, until we started to go past a fence decorated with signs that warned us about trespassing, and even better when the signs mentions guns. Turns out that we were behind the Hunters and Anglers Club of Midhurst. I had visions of stray bullets spraying the snow around us as we dive for cover. Luckily it was only my fanciful imagination and we never heard a single gunshot. This was a little disappointing, as I didn’t get a chance to practice my matrix moves, or more likely, fall on my face. Instead we headed back the way through the softly falling snow, with the wet flakes sticking to our clothing.
I had mentioned that some of the best stories don’t necessarily happen on the trail. We made our way to a home décor store to find an item for our accent table. I was leading the way, examining vases, when my husband pipes up “I want the monkey”. That comment stopped me in my tracks, and I turned around to see my husband standing next to a faux brass monkey. Nope. “You are not getting a monkey”. My husband tried to convince me that this was the only monkey in the store because it was so wonderful. Nope. “You are still not getting a monkey”. I walked away with my husband in pursuit, “I really want the monkey”. NO. “The monkey is perfect”. NO NO NO.“I really like the monkey”. By now people in the store are turning to look at us with a mixture of bafflement and amusement, as the conversation is repeated several times. I finally gave up, “get the darn monkey then”. Before I had even finished the sentence, my husband gleefully bounded away to grab the monkey. We now have a brass simian holding limes. Sigh. What is more concerning is that when we told people that we had bought a monkey, everyone assumed that it was real, because it would surprise no one if we really did bring home a monkey. We are that kind of people.