Expedient Man Does Breakfast

In my last Chapter I detailed the Expedient Man's Cheese - Sandwich Lunch. Today I m going to tackle a much bigger area: Breakfast, yet in it s own way, it s much easier than any other meal. The reason is only a, nincompoop, lunkhead, lame brained, addled pated fool would contemplate cooking breakfast!! It s just way too much work & mess for too little reward. The Expedient man goes out for breakfast every day.

Perhaps I am luckier than most men, I don t answer to anyone except My Mistress Meeper and most mornings she s content with a little tumble in the bed before we up. Breakfast is my most significant event of the day and just before I close my eyes at nite I say a greatful, heartfelt prayer & thank my luckily stars for my breakfast haven: The Frenchman & Me.

Each morning I saunter down the steps into my neighbors yard, thru his gate and out onto the main drag of Wolf Creek, MT. By passing "Frenchies" I head one door down to the Post Office where my morning paper is waiting for me in my box. If Miss Annalyne sees me walk by she starts my breakfast. This is possible because I have the same thing every morning 365 days a year. This particular breakfast is so perfect that to order anything else would be absolutely unthinkable. Ill elaborate on this later....

Frenchy s has a lot of character. It s been around forever under various owners. It s decor and ambience is distinctly Western. A sign on the door states, "No Pets: Dogs, Cats, Cattle or Horses allowed". There s a stuffed calf over the door as you walk in. A pellet stove is burning to your left. On your right is a curved wooden bar that spans the room and a row of tables with red and white checkered worn plastic table cloths on your left. Separating the bar and the tables is an aisle. The walls are covered with old pictures, various dead animals,beer posters with CW stars on them, old guitars. I m still finding all sorts of interesting things.....

Most mornings the "regulars" are seated to the front corner of the bar drinking their 60 cent bottomless cup of some of the weakest coffee I ve ever tasted. These Wolf Creek residents come into town to get their mail and share a few minutes with their neighbors before they go off to their ranches or fishing activities. Reiner is usually sitting by himself in the middle of the bar. ( more about him later) I come in and take a seat at the fourth table, my every day seat. It s pretty dark in there on any day and I m fortunate to have one of the tables with a lamp.

I m usually greeted by Annalyne. A very beautiful and friendly woman in her mid 30 s , who co- owns Frenchies with her husband Tim. In the Winter there s no waitress and Annalyne has my coffee and water on the table before I get my coat off. A little chit -chat and she s off to make my breakfast. I peruse my paper while I hear the bacon sizzling on the grill and savor it s smoky aroma as I settle in.

Most days I m just about on the editorial page when she plops my breakfast down on my newspaper. What a delight to behold! A beautiful golden brown fluffy pancake which entirely fills a large dinner plate. On a second platter are two strips of perfectly cooked medium bacon, with two eggs over very, very easy. I m just in awe how she can duplicate this perfect breakfast day in and day out. The eggs have the thinnest, most delicate of membranes covering them and are as soft and runny when broke, as liquid mercury.

I immediately ring my pancake with real maple syrup which they keep especially for me. My favorite pattern is the "spiral galaxy " as after its application , before it sinks in, looks a lot like the Milky Way.... I gently break open the first egg and eat the white fringe mixed together with the yolk. I take a bite of crispy yet yielding bacon, and finish with a bite of pancake, cooked with a very thin crust yet soft in the middle, awash in just the right amount of maple syrup. MMMMMM can life be any better?? And what might you ask is the cost of this impeccable extravaganza, this breakfast fit for a king? A measly $5 .....

At this point I usually switch to the Sports section, which is my favorite page. Savoring my food and quietly absorbing the sports news of the day. Presently, I m following the Colts and their pursuit of a perfect season. I m no Johnny -come- lately to the Colts. They have been my team since the Glory days of Johnny Unitas, Ray Berry and Lenny Moore. This current version even has a Home Town Hero, James Mungro, playing for them who broke every scoring record in the county while playing high school ball when I lived in the Poconos.

After I finish my feast, I look up and take in what s going on around me. By this time the regulars have all cleared out. At the far end of the bar, Annalyne is usually chatting and smoking cigs and drinking coffee with one of the local women who has come in to visit. Usually in the middle of the bar, all by himself , is Reiner, staring fixedly at Fox News at a TV set up above him. A few words about Reiner.....

For one he doesn t like me. In fact , he doesn't speak to me at all. Annalyne says I ve been shunned! Which is a never ending source of amusement to us. It all started over a woman, cherchez la femme..... One nite before I lived in WC and was just up on a fishing trip I happened into Frenchy's for dinner . I sat at my table and had a meal and watched the World Series. My set lost it s satellite connection and I moved to the bar where Kathy was sitting watching the game also. In a friendly manner we struck up a conversation. During it s course I discovered she had sons who had played ball for the local high school and she was embarking on a new business using her expertise in photography. I also found out she lived on the river. Hmmm. my calculating mind started to whirl, this would be a good person to know !

Over the Fall we met a few times at Frenchy s . I gave her some business advice , got to fish the river on her property and became friends. Little did I know that she was the ONLY single, available woman in Wolf Creek, where women of that persuasion are as rare as hen s teeth! Apparently Reiner, being one of the hundred single Norwegian bachelor types in WC ( I became the 101 st) had set his cap for her. His jealous tendencies manifested itself in a marked dislike of me.

Now Reiner is an interesting enough person and under different circumstances we probably would have gotten along just fine, A tall strapping man , with a chiseled face reflecting years of working outdoors probably around 50. He lives rough, isolated way up on top of a mountain, without power or running water. An expedient comrade also, as he eschews making breakfast and even dinners most of the time. Tho I hear that s for fear of having food in his cabin due to a plethora of aggressive Grizzly Bears, who also share his mountainous and solitary abode. A hungry bear in your cabin is never a welcome guest! Ask David Letterman about that......

He cuts wood for a living and also raises foxes. I can t say I m exactly sure what the final by product of this proclivity is used for but I can definitely tell when he s come into Frenchy's ! Fox urine is very strong smelly stuff. I looked it up on the web and it says,

"Real fox urine makes varmints like rabbits, squirrels and chipmunks think foxes are around. They react instinctively to their fear of this predator. For rabbits, squirrels, chipmunks, and other varmints."

Further research determined that fox are held in wire cages and given plenty of water to drink. The resulting Urine bleeds down into a trough where it can be collected and bottled. Male foxes are particularly potent as just a couple drops in discreet places can mark their territory for weeks at a time. I think Reiner probably has a lot of males as Frenchys has a particular atmosphere after he arrives.....

Reiner gets his Elk

Reiner is also well known a a hunter. Fortunately Elk are not afraid of Fox, as Bull Elk can run over 600 pounds. This season Reiner got his Elk with a four by four. I overheard him tell this story this Fall at Frenchys. It seems he was out an about on his property doing some shoring up of an out building , when a Bull Elk , oblivious to him, stepped around the corner of the building. As a matter of fact, Bull Elk during mating season, "RUT" , as it s called, are not particularly fond of anything except elk cows at that time of year and have a tendency to charge their huge antlers foremost , intending to knock the offending object to the ground. Be it another Bull elk, car, train, or anything else it may take exception too. In this case, it was Reiner. Reiner being well versed in Bull Elk, rut induced, anti-social behavior, knew what was coming and to forestall being gored, then knocked to the ground and trampled to little bit s and pieces; swung first! A mighty swing it was, with the 4X4 he held in his hands. Bobby Bonds would have been proud of that swing, as he solidly connected upside his head! It was certainly a broken bat double to left field, as the 4x4 broke in half. The mighty Elk' s knees bent, he shook his head stunned and his knees wobbled as Bungalow Reiner moved in for the kill.

In close now, he battered the Elk with blows about the head as this mighty beast bellowed , sank to his knees, and crashed to the ground, unfortunately catching Reiner in the arm with an antler. Now bloodied himself, he poised himself over the thrashing 600 pounds of death and destruction and drove the jagged fragmented end of the 4x4 into the animals heart; the struggle over. You ve got to respect a man for something like that....

Sadly tho, respect he did not get that from me. One afternoon during the summer I was in for lunch with a friend after the mornings fishing. Reiner was sitting in the middle of the bar in his solitary perch, ignoring us as we walked in. He was staring fixedly at the TV, for a change. After we ordered, I glanced up at the TV to see what he was watching. It was a Bass Masters Pro Tournament. This has to rank as one of the stupidest pursuits on earth, probably after Nascar races.... I have to set the scene a bit.

We had come in after fishing the the morning trico hatch which is one of the toughest, most challenging of all trout fishing. We were going after 18-20" rainbow trout on lines as fine as silk presenting tiny black specks with wings and tails meticulously tied on . Standing chest deep in the river, throwing 40-50 ' casts over and over, trying to get a perfect presentation, with drag free drift, while not alerting trout of our presence.

Here on a national network TV show were these "pro fisherman" in 50k boats, dressed in black tights and gaudy green and red shirts, throwing big lures with multiple treble hooks on a spinning rod. Exulting, when they hooked and then hauled out of the water in one clean jerk a little 9" bass. Then they performed a football end zone dance for the cameras and put the poor fish in a live well. Well, this was way to over the top for me. I laughed uproarishly and unremittingly and made comments about the " pros" sexual preferences ( the form fitting black tights and gaudy shirt) How well he snuck up on the unsuspecting fish with his 125 Mercury outboard motor boat , his skills in flinging the lure and his panache when he landed and jerked the fish clean out of the water. I guess this must have gotten to Reiner, tho to his credit, he never blinked an eye an continued to stare at the TV during my satire. I m not sure what he holds against me more, being friends with the lady of his unrequited dreams, or making fun of those faggy Bass Masters, tho one day I d like to ask him <G>