November 1st 1981

posted in: Innocents Abroad | 0
Brent on the hunt

An excellent night’s sleep, but awoke to rain.  A veritable thunderstorm.  Well, not that bad maybe, but lots of it.  Despite the handicap, Brent got up + managed to get a good fire going.  The prospect of which was sufficient to lure me from my bag.  There was a good breakfast available too – porridge, tea, bread + honey.  And then the hunt began, in the rain, for the elusive shroom.  The one we were searching for is quite small, with a pointed cap, + dark gills.   And I found my first 2 – just about the only ones I did find.  The rain decided to come down even heavier, so I decided to abandon the task – I was useless at it in any case – + look after the fire.  The campsite was one that had been set up by a local logging camp as a PR exercise, + they had left a pile of wood there – only it was in plank lengths.  I started to drag some back + chop it into usable pieces – Brent had brought along a super-duper axe, + I was really enjoying myself playing at being a lumberjack.  (Only here they’re called loggers, Robbie corrected me.)  One by one the others appeared, + I just carried on chopping + splitting.  Eventually the last one – Brent – appeared.  He was the only one to have found a decent number of shrooms.  We stood around the fire for quite a while, playing the song-subject game, + trying to dry off, all while the rain kept coming down, harder then softer then harder again.  Eventually we gave up, packed up the tent as hurriedly as we could, threw everything in the car, + set off back to the motel.  We did consider staying in a cabin which belonged to a friend of Robbie’s, until we discovered it didn’t have any heating.  Arrived back wet + uncomfortable, + Val + I cooked a cheesy stew, then we played hearts.  Brent won this time.  Ate quite a lot of mushrooms – no effect whatsoever.

All in all, a pretty useless day, in that we spent most of it searching for stuff which failed to have the desired effect, and just getting wet.  Clearly, I enjoyed playing logger (thanks Robbie), no doubt pretending that I was far more skilful than I was; that is my usual standby fantasy.

The song-subject game is simple enough: choosing a theme, and then taking it in turns to sing a line or two from

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