September 3, 2001

•  
  

  THE EXLOG FILES

  
  

  One logging outfit I worked for, for ten years, had four different camps. The last one they started was an offshoot of powell lake called goat lake. Yes and your right, it was good for goats. The rumours were true, we, four of us were to go there on the plane, and fall timber. Arriving at the powell lake dock, and we see this little plane that we were to ride in. It looked like a small boat with wings. Being a little negative about it, we got on, four men and tools. First off the owner of the plane, closing the door for us, gets his ring caught on the door, and we drag him until he got loose. Then, the take off. Three times trying to take off, and the pilot yelling rocker, boys. The third time we just made it, with trees scratching our buts, and our finger white from hanging on. We got to goat lake, and landed in one piece. Needless to say, we went by boat after that. That’s when I bought my sixteen-foot boat, but it’s another true story.

  • 4:15 pm
  • 1 Comment