Disrupting

It's good to be back in Canada for a spell.  The hunting season for white tail deer opened this week, and I was able to take the .375 H&H I bought for Africa for a walk in our local woods, albeit an hour of abandoned logging roads in my Subaru and another hour of boot leather hardly quantifies as local.  Sure my .308 would have been more appropriate, but I rather like the big calibers.  The big push is invigorating, and you know you've shot a real gun.  I seriously doubt hunting here will ever be the same after living out my dream safari in the Limpopo region of South Africa, taking a record book kudu and a record bush buck last spring, but it's still good to get out on my own in the woods.  First light, gradually being able to distinguish the pine laden hills from the sky, the frost in the dry grass, finding spore and tracking, beds freshly slept in and wondering now, up into the sun for warmth or held up in the thick?  I hear a grunt and then the snap of something moving, but not even the flash of white tail.  Such is hunting in Nova Scotia.

My family is still adapting to having me home and it's not always a smooth transition.  They have to adapt and be self sufficient while I'm away, and they settle into their own routines, routines which my arrival certainly disrupts.  Something to keep in mind if one is contemplating this lifestyle.  It's not easy.

Off to Newark and the sim tomorrow for my six month check.  I abhor travelling to the states.  Much easier frolicking through airport security in Germany, Switzerland, England, Norway, Tanzania, Kenya.    It just gets silly and no one seems to notice or speak up.  Though it's pleasant to break up the six weeks off with a little challenge in the cockpit, basically running an IFR flight in the Rome area with anything and most everything going wrong, but I'd truly love to find a steady flying gig that kept my hand in without the long gaps between getting airborne.  The things I love, I want to do more.  Flying, surfing, hunting, f........