Read Part 1 HERE !

​D̶i̶s̶t̶r̶a̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶s̶ Deviations from the planned itinerary ceased at the 3 PM mark. We would pull into the unpaved lot of the Grey Sauble Conservation Authority office - unoccupied at the time due to the long weekend - and commence the hike at 3:15 PM.

​Making a beeline for the assumed trailhead, I led the way.

Within seconds, the sleepy polar bear began to speculate that we were headed in the opposite direction and posed the question, "Is this the right way?"
"I think so." I responded, half-certain. "The trailhead is here after all." Though, none of the colours on the map had matched the web version in the slightest.

As we further along the path, we found a largely barren path filled with info boards distinctive to trees - arboriculture content. Confirming our coordinates with Google Maps, it had turned out that we indeed ventured along the incorrect path.

​Quickly retracing our steps, we found an actual trailhead (marked "Trail Head"), which appeared to date back at least thirty years from its dilapidated state. To its right was a picnic area and locked washrooms. We followed a dirt path onto the main trail.

Almost immediately, we found ourselves at a four-way intersection. There was clear signage to denote the directions to Harrison Park (left) and Inglis Falls (straight). However, our intent had been to visit the Salmon Trail.

​Turning right, we trodded over fall leaves, a boardwalk, and a narrow access with patches of stout green shrubbery lining its edges. With minimal effort, we found ourselves facing a stream, the supposed destination for viewing the "Salmon Run".

Busily snapping away, I was unaware of the presence of salmon in the stream until the sleepy polar bear pointed out, "Hey look! There's a dead salmon there."
I looked over, acknowledging what I initially thought to be a log as the underside of the overturned fish. The pungent odour filling the air finally made sense to me.

​Upon closer inspection, we saw two more in the corner, and even a few further down the channel. Venturing upstream, the salmon could be seen just beneath the water's surface, resisting the turbulent current in an attempt to complete their spawning run.

​It was unbeknownst me at the time that these species were set to perish and deteriorate after the spawning process. During our brief stay, only one of several salmon succeeded in jumping over one of the river segments. Another was observed to make numerous tries, only to be gradually shifted downstream. There was another that surrendered altogether and began swimming with the discharge direction instead of against it.

​The Salmon Run was quite a sight to behold. Neither of us had witnessed the act firsthand, nor been acquainted with much knowledge regarding it. Moreover, it was shocking to see such sizable salmon in general. These creatures were at least 1.5 times the length of those in captive, nurtured for the sake of consumption.

Absence of reason constitutes the bane of my existence. Whether it be a lack of functionality, critical thinking, or loss of logic, the sheer act drives me to the point of absolute exasperation.

Throughout the week, I began to observe a drop in energy levels, likely a temporary side effect following COVID infection. My olfactory and gustatory senses had remained intact; the virus had not impacted my ability to taste Apple Dumplings and their buttery, brown sugar juices nor homemade meals with too-creamy Portuguese sauce, however, I soon discovered its unexpected impact to beer.

​Long anticipated swigs of Pumpkin Ale and Kronenbourg Blanc resulted in near-identical profiles of cherry cough syrup. Citrusy was not the Blanc, nor spicy was the Ale. These wallop woes led to disappointment: a natural reaction to the flavours of loved beverages removed or altered from one's inventory.

​I also began to develop red bumps on my legs, particularly at the front of the thighs. It first commenced with a few on the right thigh, then quickly spread to the left. Scratching only worsened the spread.
Thankfully, the rash subsided in a few days after intake of Reactine and application of a powerful steroid cream  (not recommended, as skin discolouration/lightening can occur).

​The work week saw return of my field equipment to the office, along with a rare AM trip to Costco.

"Is it safe to eat food made by a sick person?"

Unlike what seems to be the standard course of action of a COVID-19 patient, I wasn't exactly resting for the entirety of my positive state. I attempted dance and pilates (from which an excruciating headache was triggered), moved about the house (masked, of course), and reviewed notes from vacations past (still in progress). It was evident that I was keen to rejoin society and partake in the activities I enjoyed and wished to enjoy once again.

Baking was not omitted from this roster of hobbies, for being at home meant readily available tools and ingredients for crafting.

1) New York Cheesecake

One of these projects was a classic New York Cheesecake. Originally to be undertaken as part of the Apple Mania series, a last-minute realization of cream cheese sparsity led me to repurpose the graham crust in the direction of an Apple Mousse Cake.

That one was excessively creamy, given that I had emptied an entire carton of heavy whipping cream to form a filling. This New York Cheesecake was constructed from 200g from graham crackers and a whopping 900g of Philadelphia cream cheese - that's nearly 4 blocks!! - then baked in a water bath for over sixty minutes.

​The result was a gratifying one of exceptional creaminess. With its surface appearing lacquered with a golden sheen and its interior buttery and indulgent, remarks affirming my opinion were received all around.

On the first day, I hadn't removed the foil wrapping from the pan before transferring it to the fridge to cool. This led to condensation pooling on the underside of the crust, consequently leading to a soft, pliable centre. Thankfully, the circumference remained dry, emitting a delicate crunch. I also hadn't let the cake chill for its required minimum of eight hours before removing the first slice; the top was rigid and centre basque-like. On the second day, however uniformity was witnessed throughout the cross-sections.
Word of warning: Do not consume slices greater than half-inch thickness in one sitting. The satiation levels are tremendous.

For weeks, I had desired Banana Chocolate Chunk Muffins. But what's a baking enthusiast to do when SK is filled with banana loaf recipes instead of banana muffin ones?

​Once my body could handle text, calculations, and work (ugh) again, my mind began trailing, contemplating the proper conversion sequence as opposed to reviewing the drawings at hand. 

​A 2:2:1:1 ratio was discovered. I set out to validate this ratio, comparing the flour, fat, liquid, and egg quantities by mass in SK's tried-and-true Marbled Banana Bread and Double Chocolate Chip Muffins. These were two recipes I had enjoyed greatly, and I was eager to revisit the experience through bananas and chunky chocolate comprisals.

Upon completion of my final round of P1Harmony edits, I decided it was time to step out for fresh air.

​Truthfully, I had nowhere to go, and no event warranting gas and travel time. The late hour of 6:30 PM made it unsuitable for undertaking a cycling run; there was insufficient energy to muster up a round of pilates either.

​I ventured out towards Golden Square Centre, my heart set on the Chung Chun Rice Hot Dog I had been denied of on the previous evening.

​The lineup was nonexistent at my time of arrival. Two customers waited within the establishment for their orders, positioning themselves along the perimeter of the space as there were no tables or chairs for dine-in.

Unsure of the order format, I took to one of the Combos for simplicity sake. The Chung Chun Combo comprised of Sweet Potato, Ramen Chips, Squid Ink Cheese, Gamsung, while the Cheese Bomb consisted of Whole Mozzarella, Double Cheese, Marble Cheese, and Cheddar Cheese. Mixing and matching between the combos was not permitted, thus I sought the former on the basis of variety.

​An estimated wait time of ten minutes was relayed to me. I took to undertaking a loop about the parking lot, observing partial curb replacement and shoddily placed interlock at one of the medians.

Entering the space again, I was surprised to see a queue spanning at least six people. My order number was called out at this time, and sauces were offered to me for drizzling atop the dogs. Expressing hesitation at the addition, the girl behind the counter offered to place my selections on the side, to which I happily agreed. To prevent sogginess, two containers of each condiment were fitted between the bottoms of the skewers.

Squid Ink Cheese was sampled first: the top inch of the dog was filled with a soft (but not stringy) mozzarella cheese, while the remaining three quarters an extremely salty wiener dog. Odd was it to discover that the cheese was not uniformly distributed along the length of the dog. The squid ink batter was largely bland in profile, while a panko-style exterior offered crunchiness.
Ramen Chips was an amusing pick with phenomenal texture but an otherwise gummy interior. The rice flour batter was dense and hardly appetizing; the wiener sausage, while packed with less sodium than the Squid Ink, was nothing formidable either.

Gamsung, the supposed classic of the franchise, emerged as the least popular option. The potato bits were extremely satiating, especially when consumed along with the gummy rice flour batter. Only one quarter of the dog saw depletion. Its remnants were tossed to the side, sausage removed.
Sweet Potato was declared the winner of the quad for its delightful sweet-yet-addicting exterior, a comparatively less tacky rice flour batter, and comparatively less salty sausage. Munching on the coating was akin to enjoying a side of sweet potato fries.

Although having tasted all four specimens, we failed to comprehend the novelty of the rice hot dog trend. Beyond the various toppings and specialty inclusion of squid ink, neither the rice flour batter nor sausages were compelling enough for a second visit. Cheesiness was also found extremely lacking.

Last year, we witnessed the Thanksgiving weekend Pie-Thru and deemed the farm's market's Apple Pie inferior than that of homemade renditions (albeit soggy bottoms executed the first time around).

The year before that, I discovered the Strawberry Rhubarb Pie that I loved so dearly to be tacky and wholly disappointing. But, of course, we weren't about to go a year without Apple Cider.

​Having being reminded of Thanksgiving long weekend's pending arrival, I proposed a visit to The Apple Factory at my earliest opportunity. In advance of the celebratory holiday, the wagon of decorations had yet to emerge. A handful of scarecrows and the market's signature smiling pumpkins greeted us instead.