We had a wonderful weekend at Fort Folle Avoine. Even my wife, who usually spends her time trying to keep up with her best friend in the "cooking wonderful meals on an open fire" department. Since I get to eat both their efforts, I spend considerable time trying not to interfere with their competition.
The competition for Best Voyageur at this Rendezvous was to be decided by a fantastic triple-event made up of a single shot at three targets, the first with a flint-lock rifle, the second with a bow-and-arrow, and the third throwing a tomahawk. Your time was also a factor.
My daughter saved me from displaying my sub-mediocrity at all these skills with the ages-old toddler's plaint, "I want my Mommy!"
While she also kept me from reviewing my training in the Atlatl, which I was eager to do, I feel only the slightest regret at missing out on the Best Voyageur competition. I usually leap into such things with both left feet.
Oh! The photo I regret having missed was one of my daughters marching sided-by-side over a rise with an American flag/Gadsden flag arrangement (like my own) flying over a tent behind them with a back-drop of tall, straight white pines and white cumulus clouds.
Btw, it was hotter than H today. 98F and humid. Striking the tent was no pleasure. We spent the mid-day trying to stay in the shadiest part of the nearest tree as the sun moved across the sky. OK, during that time, our discomfort was mitigated by the company of a loquacious expert on Ojibwe (Chippewa) customs - the (we discovered) sadly checkered history of the Grand Portage band in particular.
Enlightening.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
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