A Quiet Sunday Before The Good Stuff

I’m sitting here on the couch on a Sunday afternoon in early October. NFL RedZone hums in the background, chili’s cooking in the crockpot, and I’m working—but I can’t complain too much. I volunteered for this extra shift, and it’s a Sunday afternoon, so it’s not too busy.

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind—50 to 60 hours a week, endless meetings, problems piling up. It’s been the kind of stretch where you hardly have time to think, let alone write. On top of that, we’ve been to three different weddings in three weekends. Each one was a blast, full of old friends and favorite people. So today, this small pause feels like my only real moment to sit down and share something with Sunday Loon.

A big part of why I started this site was to have a personal journal—to share how I deal with burnout and the stresses of life. If you’re reading this, you probably have a few guesses about what helps me reset. Some days it’s small, productive tasks that bring a quiet sense of accomplishment, like working on my never-ending workbench project. Some days it’s a few hours in the river or a good hike. And some days are what I’ll talk about today—pure bliss in the North Country.

What’s getting me through all the chaos is what’s ahead. Work should slow down by mid-October, and I’ve got a ton of PTO coming up. First stop: a long weekend in Charlotte. I’ve heard nothing but good things about the city, and I’ll get to my first Bills game of the season as they take on the Panthers. But the real stretch I’m looking forward to? November.

I’ve written before about my love for New York’s North Country. The first weekend of November, I’ll be heading back to camp—this time with a special guest. For the first time, I’m bringing along fellow Sunday Loon contributor, Levi. I’ve known Levi for 20 years. He’s always been my go-to for hunting knowledge outside of my dad. I actually brought him with me when I bought my first rifle because I knew he wouldn’t let me buy a piece of junk. He’s a far better hunter than I am, with a deep understanding of firearms and wildlife behavior. More than that, though, he respects the tradition and bond of hunting with friends. I’m excited to share our traditions, and a place that’s become such a big part of my life, with someone I’ve known since the seventh grade.

The adventures don’t stop there. From November 7th through the 16th, I’ll be back on PTO—this time bringing my dog, Lola, for a full week in the woods. This is what I call living the dream: a handful of good buddies, a golden retriever, and an off-grid cabin in the North Country. I can already smell the morning coffee. I can hear Horns yelling at his brother to stop adding wood to the fire. I can taste a late-night whiskey—the cheaper, the better. I can hear old man North asking how life’s treating me “in the big city,” even though I don’t live in a city, just south of the most rural part of New York State. And I can hear the wind pushing through the pines at night as another day in heaven ends.

The evening sit

November can’t come soon enough.

Doc North