In any case, our first assignment for Salt was called a "Mini-Ethnography" multimedia project. We were put into groups (one photographer, one writer, one radio producer) and sent out into a drawn out bubble on a map of Maine. Our professors decided where we could find stories and we decided what our stories would be.
We found ourselves driving through Bridgton, Maine early Saturday morning... tired and groggy unsure of what the day would bring. We drove through town for a while and finally found ourselves at the end of a dirt road staring out at this:
It was a beautiful, clear-sky day, not too chilly and purrrrrrfect for ice fishing (which seems to me to be less about catching fish and more about what you do while waiting for fish!) So we spent some time waiting for the elusive "big catch" with 5 local boys who seemed glad to have the company. They answered all our questions and gritted their teeth through all the photos. We had lots of fun chatting with them too. One guy, named Adam, seemed to love pointing out every time I said "eh". At least someone gets a kick out of it.
The scariest part of ice fishing in the sun is the cracking sound in the ice. We were standing about 20 feet from open water which made the deep cracking sound even more disconcerting. But as one of the guys said "That's not the ice breaking, that's the ice making." Yet, I'm not sure I believe that. I did however add to the cracking myself with some old-school ice fishing action by chipping a new hole into the 15 inch ice.
Gotta love the action shots. What did I learn form this experience? ... The best way to warm up on the ice is to chip a hole through it.
Once we were too cold to report any longer we switched to the polar opposite (sorry... bad joke) of ice fishing...
Before we begin here I would just like to say for the record, surprisingly I am a really good ping pong player! Yeah, I'll take you on!
We found the world's friendliest group of ping pong players in the Bridgton community centre. I think I am good at ping pong? Well, these guys are great! One of the players was even the state champion for over 65! And what a nice guy! Nicest of all was Bill, who answered every single question I had and THEN taught me some invaluable lessons about ping pong. It is easy to think you are good when someone keeps telling you so. He wanted me to come back this week... but Bridgton is about 40 miles from Portland... and that's a long walk!
Here I am in action!
So I guess I can add ice fisherwoman and pingponger to my resume. Do you think that will get me a radio job?