If you want the answers, you need a lot of questions
I think it is safe to say that kids, no matter where they are from, have a natural curiosity of the world around them.
With that said, I suppose you could call me and all my friends who grew up in Inlet a bunch of snoops.
We reveled in anything or anyone that was new to our community.
If there was a new guy driving the oil delivery truck we would tromp around the house where he was making a delivery and ask him who he was and what happened to the old guy.
If we saw a fellow wetting a line on the shore of one of our lakes we would think nothing of sauntering up to him to pepper him with questions.
What’s bitin’? What lure you got there? What sorta bait do you normally use? The questions just kept pouring out.
Sometimes I was by myself when I ran into someone new. It could be a gal poking around the ski trails with her dog, or a fella with a shot gun and hound dog walking down a trail on his snowshoes.
On one particularly warm March day in 1975 I met up with a very interesting sort of fellow. I had made my way up one side of the Limekiln Road on my cross country skis. I was maneuvering along on some thin and crusty brown snow that was diminishing daily under the spring sun.
My dog Mutt was ahead of me hopping back and forth over the snow banks, sniffing at all sorts of animal tracks. Continue reading