Never trust a brewer with a bottle of liquid in hand. Ha...yeah. Arriving home on Friday last, April 20th, I was expecting to sit back and chill out before heading out into the heart of Dutch Country for a "Fishing Derby" that we had planned to kayak through. I know that sounds a little evil at first, but the clear bottle of liquid and a crazy rant about the two party system that turns the wheels makes me want to turn everything green. Wake up people! No actual fishermen or fisherwomen were injuried during the adventure, a few stock fish (rainbow trout) may still be swimming today and I think that is a good thing.
My roommate greets me on Friday with a great big stupid grin and a gallon bottle of water. I thought that was weird at first since we have well water. Alas my brain was not operating at full speed and it didn't register until much later, what secret powers where luring inside the clear liquid. I knew something was not in step with the bounds of normal reality but the gears that turn my brain were muddied by the media bombardment of guns and death. Chris put one ice-cube in the "drinking jar" and pours enough liquid to cover 1/4 of the ice-cube. Waves the hand and signals for me to try the sad excuse of a glass of water. "Well that isn't going to do anything to quench my thrist, is there some sort of special magic in the water?".... Chris replies in the slick pimping voice..."Don't be a girl, take a drink." Being a redhead it is in my blood to react as I did...I always pony up to that sort of talk. The instant I brought the glass to my mouth I could smell the shiney goodness inside. The smooth after taste and hardcore kick of love in the guts. We dubbed it Uncle Jesse's Bionic Tonic.Well after a few swills of UJ's Bionic Tonic, the kayak mission was aborted and we all decided to set-up camp and hike the Tuscarora Trail intead and pull as many trout from the creek as possible.
I had forgotten that such beauitful places still exist on the planet. I remember driving through farmlands with my family on vacation when I was a little girl. It was pleasing to my senses to once again evoke the images of my childhood. Acre after acre of untamed natural beauty. A few farms dotted the landscape but it was not unpleasant to behold them once again.
Blain, is a prefect name for such a pleasant little town. We stopped to feed Josh and Karen's dogs Copper and Porter. Porter is a black lab and Copper is a Chocolate lab. I hadn't seen Copper before and the sight of him brought an instant flood of tears to my eyes. It was like seeing an angel sent by God to remind me that I need adopt a new dog. Luckily Chris brought the flask of UJ's bionic tonic and the tears quickly dried up and were replaced by laughter. Thanks for the visit Jake, I needed to see you again.
It turns out the creek was too shallow to paddle, not enough rainfall. Instead most of us donned fishing gear and put on a show. I just hiked along the banks and watched the magic happen.
Additional information about Sherman's Creekhttp://www.shermanscreek.org/
The Tuscarora Trail was originally created as a new route for the Appalachian Trail. It first departs the Appalachian Trail at the top of Blue Mountain in Deans Gap..
http://www.pagreenways.org/db-Greenwaydetails.asp?GW_ID=68
More information about the watershed
http://www.dep.state.pa.us/dep/deputate/watermgt/wc/Subjects/WSNoteBks/ws07a.htm
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