The Little Mower That Could

A shout out today to the lawn mower who has seen the inside of more moving trucks than anyone I know and believe its older than this scribe. That's 51 years for those of you keeping score at home. 

It used to be the family mower for my family in the 70's in Farmington, possibly sooner. I looked up the serial number to hopefully find an exact build date but it did not register. It was built with strong materials for sure as I had one other mower have its wheels fall off and another have the blade cover area more or less disintegrate. 

The mower moved to Highland, then Milford, became the backup mower once Dad purchased the rider; the rider had issues so the old reliable Snapper was called in for relief duties on more than one occasion. And delivered each time. I took the mower as mine a little after that down to Indianapolis and back to Michigan a few years later with two more moves to boot before the present day's location. Yes, the pull cord handle is made of duct tape, there is a coat hanger in use holding the grass chute area in place and she does some engine coughing from time to time but that old lady starts every time. Each year I ponder getting one of those fancy 'no pushing' mowers but until old red leaves me stranded on a mow, cough on old mower.

Trail Head 

25th Anniversary of losing (again) at Gus Macker.....along with some car chase

Yep, 25 years ago today four twenty-somethings headed north to the Gaylord area to try to recapture the glory days of yesteryear on the basketball court playing a 3 on 3 tournament. The weekend was going to be like any other up north weekend; hanging at a local campground, enjoying some giggles with friends and attempting to take home the coveted Toilet Bowl trophy (teams losing the first two games get sent to the Toilet Bowl; we were always in the Toilet Bowl). We were never any good at the basketball portion as I believe we made three attempts at the tournament throughout the state with no trophies to show for the effort. Trophies smophies, I'll take the laughs and the many memories over the trophy any day. Watching Rob S. work the rapport with the park rangers was worth the price of admission alone. He was on a first name basis with them before we even arrived.   

This weekend was a bit different, however.  Besides the basketball, we were in for another treat as a moron in California was charged for the murder of his ex-wife and another individual and decided to take the Los Angeles police on a joy ride. There we were sitting around the campfire, listening to play by play of the chase. We all know the end result but what a crazy weekend.

To make matters equally crazy today is that the moron charged with the murder decided recently to open up a social media account; one that has no restrictions on replying to anything the moron puts out there. There is not enough space here to show them all but I've added some of my favorites.

Some are cruel (but quite funny).

Trail Head

Lake Skegemog Annual - snakes on the boat and a rock bass festival

The second weekend of June arrived faster than you say 'marmalade' and with that, the usual pack of 15-20 dudes, the majority now AARP eligible, converged upon Lake Skegemog for our version of an annual policy conference. The difference between this and the government's version is this group can solve all the world's issues. Granted, the ideas seem to come up during afternoon happy hour along the lake shore with a few libations in the group...

As far as the fishing, it was an odd one and I'm not talking about the snake that came aboard the boat I was in Friday evening (more on that in a second). The conditions were ideal as there wasn't a cloud to be seen Friday and Saturday and no mayfly evidence (they sometimes hatch during this time). The jumbo bass that showed themselves in endless numbers in previous years were a chore to get this year. If you wanted rock bass, however, you were in luck. Everyone was catching so many of those that a separate 'biggest rock bass' pot was collected for the Saturday evening fish with Dan H. taking the win there. As far as the snake, it was just a baby and hopefully not carrying any deadly venom as he snapped at me while I flipped him overboard (picture below).

Angler of the weekend went to the individual that chief policy maker (fishing tournament rule maker) Roger harps on the most for not being able to fish; Mitchell.  Roger even wrote a song titled "Mitchell sucks at fishing" which all joking aside is a pretty good song with great lyrics throughout. But this was Mitch's weekend as he found enough jumbos to take the prize going away.   

A great time and group as always. Thanks to homeowner Judy C. for putting up with this pack once again. The house is the bomb.

Trail Head