The washboard gravel road leading to Lac des Mille Lac is green as I’ve ever seen. It’s a great spot for wildlife sightings, although lately no large animals such as bear or moose have shown their faces. However, I’m always optimistic.
Suddenly I spot something on the road’s edge. “Watch out,” I yell. “Turtle!”
Dick brings the pick-up truck to a halt, and we gaze out the window. Sure enough. A small mud turtle, looking immobilized, hunkers down in the middle of the road.
Since Magoo sits on my lap, effectively trapping me in the passenger seat, Dick leaves the vehicle to help the turtle.
We are turtle rescuers, and at this time of the year when the females are looking for a good spot to lay eggs, we stop to help these slow-moving critters across highways and byways. They often seek the soft roadside gravel for good egg-laying ground, but hanging around human travel routes often results in squished turtles. So we try to help. When we see a turtle slowly and laboriously crossing a road, we pick it up and carry it across in the direction it was going.
Assuming Dick would send this little creature on its way, I am surprised when he opens the truck door with one hand and holds the turtle out the window with the other. “There’s no water around here,” he announces. “So we’ll bring him to the next creek.”
We drive down the road with the turtle hanging out the window, held tightly in Dick’s hand. “Bet he’s never had a ride like this,” Dick comments. The turtle pokes its head and one leg out from its shell as if testing the air. Then retreats and stays without a struggle.
We find a creek and Dick brings him to the water. When he sets the turtle on a rock, it seems confused, falls into the water, flails briefly as if figuring how to stay afloat, and finally swims away.
“I bet we just rescued the dumbest turtle on this whole twenty miles,” Dick comments.
I agree.
The next turtle is larger and smarter. Again, with no water nearby, our rescue operation results in giving another turtle a ride outside our vehicle window. This one is larger, possibly has eggs and when Dick sets it down, scrambles quickly to the water and easily swims away.
Meanwhile, we’ve disrupted a mother duck with a brood of tiny, newly hatched ducklings. They quickly disappear, vanishing among the rushes. I notice the pink bloom of a wild rose bush ahead and think about how wonderful summer is with new life bursting out everywhere.
We drive on, and soon I see another turtle, but this one is lying on its back. Dick stops to check. A shake of his head tells me it’s dead, so we travel on. Soon we come upon one more turtle in the center of the road. Dick also assists this one, a very lively vigorously kicking specimen. When it reaches water, it vanishes almost instantly.
Our final turtle sighting occurs after we turn onto the Trans-Canadian highway. This one has successfully crossed the busy paved highway and is fading into the underbrush. Our help isn’t needed, and the rest of the drive home is peaceful and, after all our turtle sightings, slightly boring.
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