Once packed up, I was on the road. Temperatures were below freezing and hovered there through the morning. There was some fog which I pushed through a bit more than I should; traffic was non-existent, but I'm well aware it only takes an instant for bad to happen. I slowed down. At one point a large owl flew across the road directly in front of me.
The GPS was trying to route me in a stupid way that only Garmin can. I was planning on crossing the border at Warroad, MN again.
I again needed to remind myself to slow down on the stretch of gravel road; I am sometimes thankful for things like traction control and wiz-bang AWD.
Much like my first morning on this adventure, I saw a pretty stunning sunrise near the Canada/US border. The picture doesn't do it justice as it almost looked like fire in the sky.
I only saw two border patrol people when I crossed in the US. They nearly waved me through without anything else, but almost as an afterthought had me come in a fill out paperwork for my bear. It took only a few minutes and I was on my way again.
I saw a bald eagle fighting with a group of ravens to eat the odoriferous carcass of a dead skunk - I'll leave any political interpretations of that to others. Bald eagles are, in fact, just birds.
I was listening to A Woman in Berlin by Anonymous. The author is well known at this point, but that is the way it is published. This was yet another tragic tale from WWII. The book is perhaps justifiably about misandry, but the blindness of the author to the horrors the Germans committed during the war had me raising one eyebrow at the radio a few times. I guess that is what I did end up liking about it - it was a near stream of consciousness missive about the brief occupation of Berlin. With only light editing, it probably paints an almost too realistic picture, without any attempt to be objective.
I continued south and east. At two points spotted fawns ran out in front of me - the first while I was being tailgated by some joker (with almost infinite opportunity to pass). It seems late in the year for deer to still have spots?
Temperatures were starting to warm; the North scenery was gorgeous. I was enjoying the drive. Even US-2 wasn't too bad. There weren't any caravans of evil, plodding motorhomes.
I pushed the fuel in the Ridgeline much farther than I was comfortable with. Indicated miles left were terrifying before pulling into a local gas station. The bored clerk was friendly and I talked to her for a minute when she asked why I was in Canada.
Once on the interstate, the trip became more brainless. I got gas again near my sister's house before heading there for the night. Things there seemed to be good. The menagerie of animals is always a hoot. We grazed on some food while watching a few episodes of Ozark; I've slowly seen a few episodes of this at her house and there are too many characters to keep track of. But it is still a good show.
My sister's dog Olive slept in the bed with me which was a bit odd - she takes up a ton of room. But I slept well enough.
We talked a bit more before heading out again in the morning for the final leg home. Again, this was all brainless interstate. I didn't feel like listening to podcasts so I relistened to American Fire by Monica Hesse. Much like The Billionaire's Vinegar, I could see this being one I listen to a few more times.
Driving went really well until I got on the 2-lane roads near home. I got behind the mother-of-all wide load trucks. This would normally be frustrating but it approached exasperating when I was so close to home after driving so far, made worse by the escort vehicle coming to a complete stop every once in a while for incomprehensible reasons. The jack-wad in the bright yellow Corvette in front of me was paying attention to everything but driving and would also stop for no reason. Once into a small Indiana city near the border I took side streets around the wide load finally making it home.
Once at home, the real work started. I unpacked as much as I could before dealing with a cooler full of bear meat. I'm not too fond of bear fat, so it takes more time to prepare meat for grinding. I lose a bit more than I would like, but the result is much better. Grinding the meat takes forever since bear is so tough, rubbery and sinewy. My original plan was to save both front shoulders for smoking, but one had enough bullet damage that I kept most of it for grinding. I'm also positive some of the meat got mixed up since the two shoulders I had were vastly different in size; no real big deal since all animals were treated the same and came from the same day. With five bears down that night, including mine, it can be a bit of a chaotic mess.
It was another late night, fitting for an end to a bear hunt where eating and sleeping routines get thrown out the window.
The start of this adventure seems like a long time ago. I love being outdoors, hunting and fishing. Much of what I got to see over the last week was pretty amazing. The image of the bears swimming across the river seems magically imprinted in my memory (at least for the time being). Hanging out with some interesting people is fun as well.
There are more adventures coming up over the coming weeks, months and years. With that in mind, the routine will be enough once I get caught up to the reality at home which will have to do. In fact, that is pretty good.
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