Calling Randy Bachman

A few years ago in October, my son-in-law -Steve, grandson -Sawyer, and I were at Kaginagagog (Pike) Lake. This lake holds so many memories for me. I’d love my grandkids to get to know the bush that I grew up in.

Kaginagagog is en route from Tookenay Lake from White River to Dayhosarah, 15 portages. Pike is number 12 from Tookenay. I’ve travelled this route since I was 12 years old, the first time in 1949 with my older brothers, Dan and Larry, and my Uncle Chauncey Depew.

Back to Steve and Sawyer. We weren’t there to kill anything but to paddle, walk, prospect, clear portages, catch a few fish and talk to moose.

After calling for a bull one evening near the camp, Sawyer came running to tell Steve and I there was a pack of wolves howling about 300 yards away. Sorry wolves, it was ‘the old guy just having some fun. No bull.

Later in the evening we were relaxing around the table enjoying pickerel and listening to the CBC -Randy Bachman. Randy was inviting listeners to call in. I love his program and decided to take him up on his offer.

The only place a phone works in Pike Lake is from the top of the outhouse situated on the hilltop behind the camp. It was a very dark night and climbing up the old 2 x 4 ladder under the influence of my camp favourite- rum and coke, was a bit sketchy. Once up I straddled the little roof and held the phone high, pointing south-west.

I called 411 to get the number for CBC. The guy that answered had a bit of a dialect which was fun. He wanted to know why I wanted CBC. After arguing with him for a few minutes the call got disconnected. Sawyer was standing down below laughing at me.

I punched in what I thought was 411 again…but it was 911.

I tried to explain to the fellow that it was a mistake, that I was trying to get Randy Bachman at CBC. He demanded my location and name. He seemed angry.

I told him, “Brian Mealey. I’m approximately 20 miles north east of White River at Kaginagagog Lake, standing on top of the shithouse. No, I don’t need help. I only want to talk to Randy.” Then lost the connection again.

I called back -911. After talking to him for a few more seconds trying to down play the situation the connection was lost again. Another call -911.  A lady answered.

“Brian, hang up. Don’t call us back.”

Oh well Randy, I tried.

*****

About the author: Brian Mealey was born in 1937 in White River, half way between the Sault and Thunder Bay. In those days travel was by CPR Rail, however canoe was and is his favourite mode of travel in the bush. Having been an intense hunter, fisherman and general bushman, he has learned to be a protector of all living things, particularly of moose. Most of his stories are drawn from his experiences travelling, working and playing in the Northern Ontario bush.