When I was thirteen years old I went up to Parent Québec on a train and then took a de Havilland Canada DHC-2 Beaver for the rest of the way. When we "landed" on the lake, the silence was deafening. We had scared off all the creatures great and small with the sound of the engine.
By the way, The cabins and lake were owned by the Molson family.
The next few days were gorgeous but the temperatures were different than what I was accustomed to. You see, this was autumn and during the day it would get up to 16C (60F). During the night it could go down to -15C (5F).
In any case, what I'm getting at is that Joe(lol) the indigenous guide that we had was working for the Molson family and was living there all year round taking care of the cabins and hunting. This was my first encounter with a racist asshole in my life. As I was sitting in their cabin for my first breakfast, Joe ignored all of my questions as if I was his enemy. He did not answer any of them. On the other hand, his wife was one of the nicest ladies I've ever encountered.
I can only guess that Joe had some bad memories of the white man from the past but what the fuck does that have to do with me being only thirteen?
The questions I was posing were about hunting. I obviously wanted to learn all I could but he wouldn't even tell me about his rabbit trail. I did figure that one easily though lol.
The rest of the trip was cool and we went hunting. I had a BB riffle with a .22 telescope. I got to use a 520 and 12 gauge for the first time. The only thing positive I can say about Joe, Is that the guy could hunt. It was amazing to see, the grouse would take off and he would blast their heads off.in mid flight. We never chewed on a pellet during the whole trip.
I still don't truly understand why Joe was so mean to me. OK. I was White but at the age of thirteen, I had not done anything to merit his behavior towards me. So far, back then, my karma was clean in this life lol.
