"The camp boss from Hades " or
"How Jim managed to kill a toothless caribou " Part ONE
You might say that getting there was half the fun . Some would say it was all the fun if they had experienced the trip as I did . While the flight to Montreal via Chicago was everyday stuff , the fun began as we were processing through the initial customs gate at the Montreal airport . Upon hearing me state that Scott and I were traveling together the customs lady ? promptly marked my papers in such a way that I was separated from Scott and had to undergo a lengthy waiting period at an additional immigration queue . When it came my turn with the officer there I was informed that I was an Irishman named James something or the other that I didn't catch .
That will get your heart going loud enough to hear and it doesn't help your knees any either . Stammering that I was James Brown from Ferndale in Arkansas I had the distinct impression that the officer was watching me very carefully with a stern visage . By now I was having images of back rooms ,bright lights and endless questions .
Then his face cracked ,a smile coming over it and he said " O h , my mistake , you just look like him , welcome to Canada , now what is the purpose of your visit " ? Not realizing I didn't have to be specific I blurted out " I want to kill" then froze realizing he may be a antihunter . Smile gone , frown back ." Caribou, caribou ! I spit out ", " I want to hunt caribou !!
I cant tell you how good it was to see that smile return as he handed me my passport and sent me on my way .Weak kneed , smelling of my own sweat I set off in search of Scott .
Fiding him we set off in search of our rifles and gear . Fully expecting some further assaults on my cardiovascular system I tried to brace myself for the experience of claiming two cases stuffed with advanced weaponry and countles rounds of ammunition along with assorted knives , facemasks and the like .
Several long corridors later we came out into a vast area that was totally devoid of peple of any kind . "Of course " , I thought , "all the other people had passed through here claiming their luggage hours ago while I was being assessed as a IRA operative " Nothing but long conveyors coming out of a great wall that appeared to be at least a kilometer away and some tiny specks . A hike across the cavern proved the specks to be our gear and guns . All by themselves , six thousand dollars worth , not a security officer in sight and no one to stop anyone from gathering it up .