People

People

I have never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude

Thoreau

I went to Bancroft to get away, not just from the city but from people as well. Not that it was my intention to shun people entirely for I knew that family and friends would be up to visit me frequently and I welcomed their presence, to a point. The other consideration is that I would have neighbours who, at the very least, would be curious about me. For my part I did not plan on going out of my way to befriend them, nor was it my intention to go out of my way to avoid them. If my neighbours chose to seek me out, then I was fine with that but, beyond a polite wave or quick nod at chance meetings on the road, it would be up to them to make the first move. And it was pretty much of a sure thing that they would seek me out. Surely they’d be curious about the loner from the city living in the tiny house on the hill with no electricity or water. I don’t mean to sound antisocial here, but at that point in my life that’s where I was at. I was there to figure out just who this new me, this 55 year old, single, retired individual was and too many people too much of the time might get in the way of my quest.

The Neighbours

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And so it was that I, accompanied by my son-in-law, made the inaugural trip in mid March of 2002 to what I came to think of as my little piece of paradise. As we were unloading the truck on the road and preparing to carry our gear up the hill to the cabin (the driveway was impassable due to accumulated snowfall) a truck pulled out of the drive across the road. The driver stopped, we introduced ourselves - his name was Sean - we talked briefly, ... what stayed with me was his declaration that I would now be living on Copperhead Road, a reference to the Steve Earle song of the same name. Seems a neighbour up the road a piece had been arrested for operating a marijuana grow-op. 

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Getting back to my actual arrival, as predicted, it wasn’t long before the second of my neighbours made an appearance. 

As it turns out the whole incident gave me cause to fear for my life. I was outside puttering about in the clearing near the house when a movement on the drive caught my eye. Turning to take a closer look I beheld one very intimidating monster of a dog lumbering up the drive, a one hundred seventy-five pound Shepherd Rottweiler cross, I was soon to learn. His colouring and body shape most resembled a Shepherd, one giant of a Shepherd. The immense block that was his head had Rottweiler written all over it as did the squarish powerful looking jaw. I wasn’t sure if I should stand my ground or make a desperate dash for the house, not that the dog’s demeanour was threatening - I wasn’t even sure if he’d even noticed me yet. As I stood there frozen in indecision, a voice from somewhere down the driveway shouted out words of reassurance, anticipating my reaction no doubt, at the sudden appearance of this unknown and menacingly huge creature. The voice assured me that I was not in any danger, and none too soon because it was at that point that Buddy spotted me and loped over to offer a big sloppy hello.

And so it was that I met neighbour number two, Bancroft Eric as he came to be known, the Bancroft part to distinguish him from London Eric, a frequent visitor. True to his name, but belying his appearance, Buddy didn’t have a mean bone in his body. In fact, Molly, at about a quarter of his weight, was definitely in charge when the two of them were together. 

After introducing himself and his companion, Eric immediately proceeded to “Get everything out in the open.” explaining that he’d prefer to fill me in on his history before someone else did. Aha, Mr. Copperhead Road himself I presume. 

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