Covert in Canada

Those faithful followers of my inestimable exploits will have noted my extraordinary attention to detail. It is a trait, which I have assiduously hammered from youthful raw ore to the high carbon academic steel it is today. While I have been gifted with more than perhaps my fair share of intellect, a largess of mind must be paired with steely discipline or the unfocused mind turns to the abstract musings of say, the theoretical physicist, whose time is largely spent behind a desk. These devotees of mathematical models would find the minutiae that the biologist wrestles within the course of a day far too exhausting. But I digress, my intention here is not to denigrate the valuable, albeit lesser scientific fields.

 This tangent shall now proceed in full circle to the matter at hand.  In preparation for the trek to Harrison Lake, I have decided to go full native and not rely solely on the performance of the Canuk accent I have been perfecting to blend in effortlessly with the indigenous population. To fully kit myself out, I have taken a calculated risk and visited a local clothier in search of Canadian camouflage. This was somewhat tricky as I had none of the local currency on my person, having bushwacked my way across the border and spent the previous months deep in the wilderness.

To remedy this, I took advantage of the wild and unkempt appearance one can’t help to develop over months spent in the bush, to engage in some mild panhandling (and not for the first time). After several hours I had accrued what I deemed was enough to meet my needs.  I made my way into the City of Chilliwack and found a store called Sport Chek which sold sporting attire and purchased a Vancouver Canuks jersey and a B.C Lions ball cap and then marched north towards Fraser River, away from the droves of late morning shoppers. Once I had made it back into forest, I began to distress my purchases to artificially provide them with the patina of long use to further convince those I might meet as to the legitimacy of my legal status in the country. As you can see, no stone will be left unturned in my pursuit of the North American Wood Ape.

All that remains now is long road to Harrison Lake. Further west down river there is a bridge which is the only reasonable means of crossing the Fraser, but it is located inside a populated area which is a situation I would rather avoid unless forced to by necessity. Therefore, I have decided to hike north and east along the river’s southern bank as far as it will allow. If my luck holds perhaps, I might find a watercraft suitable for a quick crossing which of course is a criminal act but an act that the Gods of science might forgive as necessary step towards professional greatness. Hopefully I’ll come across a narrow and shallower section of the river which I could attempt to cross so that I won’t have to resort to larceny.