Our campsite on Horseshoe Island
Heading out from the north side of Horseshoe Island there was a log perfectly placed for us to walk out to a small island with a few trees on it. Of course, when motorboats came by, walking on it became pretty tricky. There was also a good swimming hole just to the right of the island. We waited until it got sunny to try that, though.
Here's a view from the wooded mini-island. Thankfully, my camera didn't plunge when I was walking out the log bridge. I think I'm looking east-northeast in this picture. As I was taking this picture, it began to clear up, thankfully.
This picture is taken from the mini-island looking back toward the campsite. You can see the tip of the canoe in the distance, as well as our tent. Our wet clothes were hung up from the trees back on the left. Those trees will come into play later. As you can tell, it wasn't very deep crossing this log bridge, so even when we did fall off, it wasn't the end of the world. It also made a good location for...
Catching crayfish! After many attempts to snag crayfish, we finally caught one in our water jug - turned bucket. We used it to put out our campfires after we drank all of the water. Well, we brought this one out on shore for a while and watched him scuttle around. I was thinking of putting him on Tracy's head here, but decided that would be mean. So, he just got plopped back into the water. Oh yeah, we named him Slim (after Eminem). OK, fine, I'll explain. In an Eminem song he says 'Tica Tica Tica Slim Shady.' Lobster, Shrimp, and Crayfish (among other crustaceans - mmm... crustaceans) make a tica tica tica sound when they walk. At least I think they do. So somehow we started saying 'tica tica tica slim crayfish' - hence Slim. We were thinking of catching a ton of crayfish and having them for dinner, but we only caught one other besides Slim.
We did save the Pringles for the last day, though, and here's Shawn getting ready to pop off the lid. Notice the sun finally came out. I think this is just after Tracy and I went swimming (I think Shawn took a nap). There was a cool drop off in Newfound Lake just a few feet from that mini-island. A couple of other groups were camped nearby and they were out swimming, too.
Anyway, after dinner was eaten, trail mix was devoured, the sun was set, and the food bag hung high in the trees near our clothesline, we settled down by the campfire. There still wasn't much wind, so the mosquitoes were hungry for an hour or so after that. Of course it clouded up again so we couldn't see the entire sky. We had the fire going for a while when Tracy decided to go to sleep. About 45 minutes later, we noticed a tapping coming from the general direction of the food bag. So, I went over with my flashlight to investigate. Sure enough, there were two beady eyes peering at me over the top of the bag. It was a flying squirrel. He looked at me for another second, and then resumed chewing on the duffel bag with the food in it. I, of course, wasn't going to stand for that, even though it was our last night. Well, I got a canoe paddle and rattled the rope enough to cause the bag to shake violently. This unnerved Mr. Flying Squirrel enough to where he decided to leave. I had a feeling he wouldn't give up very easily.
Sure enough, about 30 minutes later, there's chewing again. Shawn and I both go over and scare him away again. Then, about another 1/2 hour later, we hear all sorts of squeaks, chirps, and whatever other sounds flying squirrels make coming from the woods. So, we hear chewing on the bag again. Shawn and I go to investigate. Now there's 5 flying squirrels on the bag! We start rattling the rope again and a couple fly off toward the trees. We still hear chewing, so we gather up some rocks to throw. We aim and hit the bag. Two more fly off into the trees. Silence, then more chewing. There's still one up there. Now we hear scurrying in the trees around us and now on the ground. I turn to point the flashlight beam at the bag to eliminate the last squirrel when there's this loud squeak, a flash of fur, and suddenly a flying squirrel goes for Shawn's head. Luckily he ducks and avoids the wrath.
After a couple of hours fighting off the marauders, we decided it was the last night and didn't feel like staying up all night defending the food. So, we went to bed and told Tracy what was going on, and yep, we could hear the gnawing on the bag until we fell asleep. The next morning, there was indeed a 1/2 inch hole in the bag. However, it didn't look like they got into anything. Of course, when we got home, I was emptying out the food bags and noticed that there WAS a hole in all 4 layers of bags protecting Bri's Deluxe Trail Mix. They had drained about a 1/2 ziploc bag of trail mix! Definitely another interesting night.
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