Living and working in Toronto includes facing the morning and evening "rush hour" traffic. It is sometimes nerve wracking driving one of  the 750,000 vehicles that traverse the GTA every workday. On good days I can make the one way commute in under 25 minutes and on a bad day, it takes over 2 hours to travel the same distance. What can you do on the bad days when you are stuck in the endless line of traffic with no hope of escape to a quieter road. When there is an accident, it usually involves multiple vehicles because in Toronto they have the attitude that leaving a car length in front of you is only tempting someone to pull ahead of you, god forbid that you would arrive two seconds later because of that.

Today was one of those days driving in the  concrete jungle on the 401. I only drive 15 km on that  highway but my exit is  on the right, and I have to cross left to right through 8 lanes of traffic to get from Express to Collectors to my exit...It is stressful and when the traffic is jammed, it is near impossible to find a "break" for each lane required. Often times you are just stopped on the highway until the lane to your right jams too and then you can get your nose in the other lane.

With all the waiting, I sometimes let my mind drift back to quieter days growing up in Newfoundland. There were times when you felt that you had the whole world to yourself and all of nature was there to explore. Let's go back to that quiet time and walk beside me as we go up to the pond for a spell trouting and have a boil up...

The weather for the past week was typical for Newfoundland, RDF. For those who did not grow up in NL, that stands for Rain, Drizzle, and Fog. Every weatherman in NL gets to use those words more often than any other combination when describing our weather. But today was different, the weather was close and it was going to be a mausy day. A great time to be by the pond and getting a little breeze.

Preparing to go into the woods in NL is not a long process. Haul on a pair of long rubbers, grab the basket and pole then throw a few things in the bag and start walking the path to your favourite spot. My favourite spot was up over the Southside Hills in St. John's, about an hour and a half walk on an ancient path, past the pole line and up to the top of the hill and in to Secret Gully. At least it  seemed Secret then but now it is labeled on Google Maps and roads run very close to it.

I enjoyed walking on the uneven ground of the path with  small sharp rocks jutting up here and there, you just  had to measure your step. On the side of the path were lots of blueberry bushes and it looked like it would be a  good year...there were lots of tiny green berries sprouting already. Once they get a bit bigger, they turn red. There is an old story about a mainlander looking at the red berries and asking what they were. The Newfoundlander told him they were blueberries. The mainlander asked, "Why do you call them blueberries when they are red?". The Newfoundlander replied, "Well b'y dem berries is red cause dey're still green."

The path included crossing several bogs, you had to be careful on them. One misstep and you were up to your hip in bog. It is like quicksand and  its a job to get your leg out. The water is dirty brown from the peat but it is a perfect habitat for bakeapples. I always stopped and picked up some fresh wet moss to put into the basket, best thing in the world to keep trout from drying out in the basket. In later years, living in Labrador, I found it strange to find bakeapples growing on the barrens, far from the wetland that I always thought they grew in.

Walking the path after a week of RDF will soak you to the skin where small alders are growing over the path. If you lead the way, the branches will cover you with their dew and if you walk behind, you will get the water lashed at you when the branches spring back after being pushed by the person ahead. If you walk too close behind, you'll get lashed with the branches too.

When I got to the pond, it  only took a couple of minutes of looking to decide what to use for bait. If the trout were breaching, then they were feeding on flies, and this usually only happened when the  pond was calm. Sometimes there was barely a ripple and other times they almost came clear of the water. When there was a lop on the pond, there was no use trying flies, the trout were deeper and sinker and bobber had to be used.

With the pole set, it was now time for a mug up. It is easy to start a small fire in damp woods, if you know how to do it. I found some "blasty boughs" and used some peeling bark from a birch. That can get you started and then you can use some dead wood that is lying under trees, easily dried and burns good. If you are in a big hurry, you can take some green branches from a var. The sap will give you a good fire but you will pay for it in heavy blue smoke. I drove a small stick into the ground, and put the other end over the fire. A quick dip of the kettle in the pond and hang it on the stick to get the water boiling. In those days we used loose tea and you threw a handful in when the water was boiling, then take the kettle off and let it steep.

While the tea was steeping, I opened a can of beans and put it next to the fire to heat. By the time the tea was ready, so were the beans and you could settle down to a great cup of tea, beans and home made bread. In between all this, you were watching your bobber to see if it dipped or started going up the pond. If you were lucky, you had a trout with your tea - one less to lug back with you when going home.

The best part of trouting in Newfoundland is sitting by a clean fresh water pond, feeling the heat from the sun and a cool breeze from the water. You could take your time and absorb all of nature in its glory, the green trees, blue sky and shimmering water in the pond. Sometimes you could see areas where small plant leaves were bent and little twigs broken...a good place to  set a slip...you can not put a price tag on this serenity....

Suddenly I noticed in my rear view mirror that an 18 wheeler in the next lane over was making a lane change to the right. Here was my chance, he could block both lanes for me and I could go right two lanes at once. Back to asphalt, crazy drivers, and miles of traffic lights. But it was nice to remember the quieter days...

I am disabled now and can not walk those woods with my feet, but I can still do it with my mind. The smell of smoke and many small embers in the tea are gone, but will never be forgotten.