Hey Smed,
Just came up from checking my gear. Found out why my reel stopped working last winter. Seems that plastic gears don't like -30 degree temps. We should give Sam a call to remind him to pick up his license...
"Little more was said as we packed our belongings onto the remaining sled and filled our hands with the rest. We were at a place where the road narrows even farther and becomes uneven, when we first laid eyes on Red-Green. Its windows peering like two defiant eyes as it teetered on top of a ridge of snow at an awkward angle. There was a sharp bend in one corner of the roof. When I asked Smed what happened, all he said was, “Hit a dam tree!” I jokingly queried as to whether the sled broke before or after he hit the tree. “Righ
t after,” he said. We all stared at the hut but didn’t say another word.
Deciding that further discussion might prove hazardous and that discretion might be the best option at this point, we blasted off toward the cottage, unloaded our luggage and then back down the road we plodded to see if we could convince the dam hut, as it was now affectionately known, to follow us to the lake.
Smed manned the remaining sled and slowly took up the slack as we sunk in our heels and pushed at the back. After a slight protest it was off again, swaying from side-to-side down the road. I’m not sure, but judging by the way that he was driving, Smed seemed determined to turn the dam hut into firewood. He rounded the final bend near the cottage, and with the lake was only a few meters away Red-Green slammed the brakes on once again.
t after,” he said. We all stared at the hut but didn’t say another word.Deciding that further discussion might prove hazardous and that discretion might be the best option at this point, we blasted off toward the cottage, unloaded our luggage and then back down the road we plodded to see if we could convince the dam hut, as it was now affectionately known, to follow us to the lake.
Smed manned the remaining sled and slowly took up the slack as we sunk in our heels and pushed at the back. After a slight protest it was off again, swaying from side-to-side down the road. I’m not sure, but judging by the way that he was driving, Smed seemed determined to turn the dam hut into firewood. He rounded the final bend near the cottage, and with the lake was only a few meters away Red-Green slammed the brakes on once again.
Snow had piled so high at the front of the hut that it brought the sled to a grinding halt. The challenge was now personal. The hut had already ruined Smed’s favorite machine and elevated his blood pressure to unimaginable heights, but the battle of wills continued. Normally calm, calculated and collected Smed’s eyes glowed and became almost demonic. Blue smoke belched from the sled as Smed was clearly determined to win the battle. Those of us that were still somewhat grounded in reality rushed to the sled and convinced him to concede this one to the hut before we had no sleds to use at all.
Out came the shovels and soon we were ready to edge onto the ice. Smed was convinced by this time that the hut was alive and hated him. Even though the ice was a good foot thick he was sure it must be doomed to sink."
Out came the shovels and soon we were ready to edge onto the ice. Smed was convinced by this time that the hut was alive and hated him. Even though the ice was a good foot thick he was sure it must be doomed to sink."
Well Smed ole' buddy I'm off to pick up some supplies...won't be long now!
Ed
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