We are very lucky and blessed to be living in Newfoundland and Labrador this Christmas.
Although adhering to the essential and necessary COVID-19 rules is restricting and a bother for sure, we are in a far better place than most of Canada, and all North America for that matter.
Actually, a big chunk of the world is in either partial or total lockdown for the holiday season. The virus is running out of control and people are not going to have a great Christmas.
At least here on “The Rock” and in “The Big Land” we can socialize within a reasonable bubble size of 20. While that might seem restrictive, think back to last spring and full lockdown. That scenario would be terrible for Christmas and that’s the stark reality many in the world are facing.
My heart goes out to them. At least Goldie and I will spend Christmas with our kids, grandkids and immediate family. There are people I won’t see this festive season but there will be better years ahead.
I’m writing on the evening of the winter solstice, Dec. 21, the shortest day of the year. But tomorrow will be a little longer and the sun will slowly return.
For those who love summer, it will come again. I love summer, too, but right now I’m embracing winter.
No snow yet though, and no moose tracking or snowshoeing. I’m sure it will come in short order.
And I have lots of trekking and winter camping planned. Ice fishing, too. And of course, I’m officially a wood burner once again. You might remember my new wood furnace story. Anyway, the plan is to cut my own firewood, so I’ll be busy with that once the festivities are over. I might even sneak in a load or two next week.
Goldie and I went for a walk this evening. Well, I should say Goldie went for a walk around Goose Pond and I hiked up in the woods to the west of the designated trail. Going in circles on level ground is not my thing. Anyway, on my way to the hills who should I meet on the rocky and rough trail but my old high school physics/chemistry teacher and his wife.
They are serious outdoors people, car campers, hikers, fishers, boaters and all that good stuff.
What’s important about Lloyd Spencer in my life, besides what a great teacher he was, is that he started up the Ascension Collegiate Outdoor Club in the fall of 1974 when I was starting Grade 10. I joined without a second thought.
It turned out to be a fantastic experience and nurtured my woodsy soul, also got me in my first canoe, and that turned into a lifelong love of the paddle.
Now what has this all got to do with Christmas, my chance meeting with my former outdoor mentor and teacher? Lots, because after I left the Spencers and headed upward on the trail I got to thinking of a Christmas long, long ago, in fact 45 years ago, and two very special gifts under the tree — and of course my wonderful parents who are long deceased.
I was a kid full of dreams and enthusiasm for adventure. I made my list for Santa and at the very top were two key items for the big Outdoor Club winter adventure: an orienteering compass and a pack frame. I needed them for our inaugural winter camping trip, set for the first fine day after Jan. 1.
You know my Mom and Dad would not disappoint me.
Mom was worried, of course, but Dad was pretty enthusiastic about the whole winter camping thing.
Yes indeed, under our evergreen tree adorned in all sapphire blue, on Christmas morning I found a bright orange Taymor Overlander. It had a Canadian flag on it and I thought it was so cool.
I still have it hung on the wall of my shed. I’ll never throw it out.
It’s one of those now vintage external frame packs with the tie in space for your sleeping bag below the main storage area. I used it for many years when I needed to carry a lot of stuff into the woods, duck decoys, tents, whatever.
But orange, good lord, I suppose Mom was afraid I’d get lost.
I said there were two gifts. I was getting afraid I’d have no compass. But poked out in the toe of my stocking, nestled below a bag of chips, I found it. And my parents didn’t fool around. They got me the very best — a Silva Ranger. And I still use it to this day. A magnetic compass is still just that, and calibrated to the Earth’s own nature, it never gets outdated by new technology.
There was a lot of snow that Christmas.
I remember it well. After we had our turkey dinner with all the trimmings, Dad, Mom, Nan, and I went tramping around in the snow behind the house with my pack on, just to see what it felt like. I put on my snowshoes and lashed my sleeping bag on to the pack with stout line.
There were no shock cords or Velcro straps in those days. Dad helped me out with the knots. I remember Dad and I trying to figure out where I would secure my axe on the frame. Never go in the winter woods without an axe.
I spent the evening sorting out what would go in each of the zippered compartments. I needed to be ready, waterproof matches, first aid, sharpening stone, rabbit wire, and so on. That was the extent of life’s problems. They were simple times.
The tree was lit and the blue electric lights reflected in my grandmother’s shiny glasses. As always.
I’m keeping things simple this year as well — at least as simple as I can manage. The bubble is 20 so there will be much less socializing. Like I said, I might sneak in a few loads of wood on cold crisp mornings. And in the evening read a book by the tree. The grandkids will be visiting and I’m hoping to get them out in the woods for a winter boil-up, and maybe a little snowshoeing. I’ll teach them to use my compass. I’ll tell them about their great-grandparents and about my Christmas presents so long ago.
Yes, that will make a great evening fireside story. There will be no tablets or phones, and I’ll show them the old vintage bright orange pack, with its scratches and tears, and soot from dangling kettles.
Isn’t it funny how a chance encounter can get one’s mind wandering through the mists of time? I was going to write about cutting a Christmas tree.
Enjoy your Christmas and make lasting memories.
Stay safe.
Paul Smith, a native of Spaniard’s Bay, fishes and wanders the outdoors at every opportunity.
