On Thursday the 26th it was a beautiful day after 4 days of rain and so I cartopped the kayak over to the Mystic Lakes after work and put in on the upper, upper lake. Nice late afternoon light and very few people out ... more fishing than boating. After meandering out onto the upper lake I cruised the shoreline back along the middle upper lake (where I saw a slew of Turnabouts almost swamped by the huge rain ... someone needs to start bailing), some really nice majestic oaks, ashes, and pines, and one dock covered with duck shit. When I got around to the mouth of the Aberjona I figured I'd paddle up it as far as I could and was doing so when I spied a mythic figure, sitting under a tree on the bank with some kind of box that said Budweiser 24-pack on the side and a smaller rectangular box that said Lucky Strikes.
He introduced himself and then let on that his name is actually a throw-away. He's in fact a CFO and comes from Alaska. He's landed in Boston and, though he went to college in the area, he's having a hard time coping in what is a very different world than he had been in since then. I seemed to him to not be freaked out by his talk of different worlds and mythic stereotypes, so he offered me a beer and we continued to chat. Had a nice talk and then left him there to finish his 24-pack and decide if he really wanted to go back to work the next day.
That's the wonderful thing about poking your kayak into out-of-the-way places ... you never know what kind of wildlife has carved out a foothold in that ecosystem.