Waiting for the trail blazer
Today, our big green machine went for a trip, down the hill. Breaking a trail through the first growth of the year, to allow the absent owner access. With a car. I had this imagined scenario, where our little rig got caught in the tall weeds and had to be towed back to civilization. It did not happen, but it could have.
I read the news, hoping to figure out what the others in my orbit are doing. Today, I learned that the RCMP plans to hold an inquest into the submersible debacle. And I really wonder why. Not their territory. Not their field of expertise. Is this just a chance to show the flag, given that the Coasties are already all over the show. Again, not my concern, but when the news puts it out there, I want to know more.
This is Field Day weekend. If the reference is meaningless, ignore it. If you are familiar with the event, let me add that I do not intend to attend. Too far off my route. And I have always wondered why a big social weekend could be considered as training for what is a communications hobby. You spend almost all year, alone, in front of your transceiver. You talk to others that you cannot see. How is getting together in a field tent even considered as training? I have been there, in past. In a variety of places. And I still have no idea. Will I bring some of my gear out from under the desk, tonight? Doubtfully. It might be an good test, but I would really struggle to record my exploits. And to convince someone else to serve as my assistant is tricky. There are other, more fun things going on in the area. A concert, as an example. I might listen to the chatter, just because, but I intend to remain mute. A silent witness, if you will.
