Tuesday, 31 December 2013

Leaving for Uganda

When I booked my trip to Uganda, it seemed like it was in the distant future. Suddenly, the trip was upon me. And yesterday, I departed.

Before leaving my folk's house, the girls were still quite cheery.

I was a bit fidgety all day. I was anxious to get going, but reluctant to leave. The closer we got to the airport, the more the excitement and nervousness of leaving worked themselves into a frenzied panic, leaving my stomach to do summersaults with my heart. On the way to the airport, Jordan and Marley were acting goofy in the back of the Volvo, alternating between reading Archie comics and bugging my Dad, who intermittently dozed in front of them. Evelyn was sound asleep, as was my Mom – at least for part of the drive. But, I knew that I was likely in for some waterworks at the airport.

Over the past few days, Jordan has expressed her desire that I not go on this trip. She is worried for my safety. She’s had some foreboding feelings about my continued existence, particularly if I encounter a volcano. But, in addition to this sense of doom, she is also aware that on this trip I am the furthest away from her that I’ve ever been, and for the longest period of time. Evelyn and Marley are not unaware, but they seemed to be more concerned about riding the escalator at the airport than driving wedges into my heart with crocodile tears. Jordan’s mature 7 years has left her feeling the gravity of this trip. Indeed, her worry is so great that prior to my departure, she purchased me a guardian angel birthstone to keep me safe.


At Pearson International, and Jordan is a little less cheery.

While Leia and I have used this trip as an opportunity to teach Jordan some valuable lessons – for example, that there are some things in life where she will have a choice, but other times when she will have none, and that my going to Uganda was an instance of the latter – I found it tough to try to convince her that she shouldn’t be sad about my departure. After all, I’m also aware of how far away I will be, and for how long. I’m also acutely aware that, given my extremely safe existence, this is one of the gravest risks I’ve ever taken.

When I went whitewater canoeing for the first time with Rob and Tim, my heart pounded out of my chest. Everything I’ve ever learned about rivers told me to not purposefully go through the rapids. However, with some coaxing, lots of scouting, and a bit of “I’ll-never-live-it-down-if-I-don’t” attitude, I simply went for it. Whitewater still terrifies me at times, but I know how to prepare for it.

I don’t think I know how to prepare for this kind of trip. I mean, I’ve done all the basic things (well, most of them!). I have malaria pills, although remembering to take them will likely be an ongoing challenge. I got vaccinated for Typhoid, Yellow Fever, and Hep-A. I could have gotten more, but time didn’t allow it – that, and I’m not super worried. I packed lots of medicines, including allergy pills. I’ve tried to go through a mental list of all that I need to do, but I don’t know what items should even be on that list.

I know that it is not all that risky – and yet, I know it is. Leia and I have told Jordan that Isaac and Erica have been in Uganda for months now without incident. Our neighbour lived in Uganda for five months. I have a friend that regularly travels in Uganda (and across Africa). Nevertheless, there a parasites, poor infrastructure, lions, and civil unrest, to name a few of risks. And, so Jordo tells me, volcanoes!

And there is the stark reality that I am very, very far away from my most favourite people. Should something happen, and I need to get home, I’m two-days away. If a volcano in Iceland erupts, I’m stuck across an ocean.

It is unlikely that anything will happen, but the past few weeks I found myself purposefully taking time to spend with my girls, especially as I was busy writing in the evenings.

Comforting Jordan.

When I was talking to Jordan about her fears, I told her that we were lucky that we get to spend so much time together. I work from home – I see my girls all the time. I’m very lucky to be able to be such a big part of their lives and pursue my dream job – many friends of mine have made significant sacrifices for their families, or have given up on their dreams to be a more stable presence in their kid’s lives. I respect those friends for those decisions. As I spend so much time with my girls, this trip will be bittersweet. Today, as I walked the streets of Amsterdam, I wished Leia was with me, that I could show the girls an old European city, that we could all sample the cheese in the cheese shops together. I wish they could have kept me company on the flight, bugging me incessantly for gum.


All in due time, I suppose. One day, I know I’ll take these kinds of trips with my girls. For the time being, I’m alone, and my goal is to stay awake.

Wednesday, 4 September 2013

Ed

(**Note: final post of Western Trip to be posted soon ... promise!**)

I just dropped off all my empties at my friend Ed's place. Ed is a retired gentlemen, who walks the neighbourhood to stay in shape. He's sure to stop and chat with you if you have the time. He always seems cheerful, and can recount an impressive amount of detail from previous talks. He's a great neighbour.

Ed's had a pretty hard life, as far as I can tell. He was forced into early retirement due to an injury, used up his pension and savings, and now survives off a pretty meagre income. Yet, I've never really heard him complain. Moreover, when Leia made his some lasagna, he quickly brought over a bag of apples to express his gratitude.

Ed is collecting empties to save up enough money to get to BC to visit his only family, a sister. The amount he is attempting to save isn't much, for most of us, anyhow. Undoubtedly, the empties I walked over cost much more when they were full than what Ed is trying to save. So grateful is Ed, that he immediately asks how he can repay me. Of course, I want nothing in return other than a friendly chat, and the opportunity to deliver more bottles at a later date. He insists, and tells me when he starts painting again, which he intends to do, that I'll get one of his watercolours - and a picture and a letter from BC, should he get there next summer.

I grew up in a dry home, where alcohol was the gift Dad got at Christmas from clients, and was only used as part of a marinade for steak or some other such use. In part, my folk's decision to abstain was social - they had many friends and family members who had suffered the ill-effects of alcohol-abuse. It was also religious. I understand my parent's position, and mostly respect it. I'll admit to a few sips from the flask the occasional visit home, but I purposefully do not partake in their company. To their credit, my folks are not concerned about what I consume, but about who I am as a husband, a father, etc. When I was showing my Dad around our house recently, as he was watching the girls when we went to Vancouver in May, he articulated his position on my fondness for the brew when he saw my beer cabinet in the basement: "It is not what goes into a man that defines him, but what comes out!" I immediately observed that such a sentiment doesn't help me much, but I appreciated it nonetheless.

I've always enjoyed having a selection for guests - I used to have a massive selection of tea (45-50 varieties), and once had a Pepsi fridge with a range of sodas.

Another reason my family historically has abstained was for religious reasons. I grew up Pentecostal, a part of the Holiness Movement. Alcohol was associated with a host of other nefarious activities, such as dancing, smoking, gambling, playing pool or cards (even for fun!), going to the movies, and so on. The idea was that one need to remain absolute pure in spirit and in action, per chance that the trumpet should sound. If one was found with a pool cue or drink in hand when the Lord returned, well, eternal damnation awaited. Although this hardline approach hasn't held its grip in many mainline Evangelical churches, there are still remnants. Alcohol, at least in the tradition I was raised in, remains forbidden fruit.

For most of my life, I didn't drink anything. I had my first beer at age 23. I was on a study tour of the theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who I wrote my Master of Theological Studies dissertation on, and my supervisor purchased me my first beer in Berlin. I deliberately chose that time and the company I was in. The rest, as they say, is history.

Tonight, as I was unloading my empties in the garage at Ed's building, I was struck by something he said: he claimed the empties were his salvation.

I found that to be an interesting juxtaposition with my upbringing. Alcohol growing up meant damnation, yet now my consumption is considered by Ed to be his salvation. If that is the case, I happily embrace damnation, knowing I've helped Ed out.

I'm not quite sure why I was compelled to write this particular blog. Perhaps it is simply the way Ed's  phrasing struck me. Whatever the reason, I'm glad that I know Ed, and empties have assisted me in that process. Sure, we would have chatted on occasion on the street, as he walked by, but the empties made me leave my front porch and walk over to his. It made Ed less of a passerby, and more of a neighbour. He's one of the reasons why Leia and I love this neighbourhood so much. 

Maybe I wrote this blog so I could end it with this: I want to help Ed get to BC to see his family. One of the ways he is saving money is by collecting empties. If you'll consider saving yours, I'll pick them up and deliver them to Ed. I know he'll appreciate it beyond words, so let me know.

My next trip to Ed's won't be with empties -  Ed will have to sip his way to salvation!

Saturday, 3 August 2013

Sleeping with the Bear


On the final leg of this journey, the thought of home, our beds, meals prepared in a kitchen, a consistently hot shower, fast (most of the time) internet, Alex (our espresso machine), among many other things, has us a bit anxious. We’re making our final stop tomorrow in Sault Ste. Marie, where we’ll visit with Patrick and Renee, and their two boys, William and Felix. This is a long overdue visit. While I’ve seen them a few times in the past few years, it has been a long time since Leia and the kids have seen them. It will be a nice ending to this adventure – sort of, as we’ll still have eight hours of travel to reach home.

We left Rushing River today around noon. I’d say it was a lazy morning, but I was up at 5:30 and on the water by 6 in search of some good fishing. Although I was up early, it was already light out, and the sun quickly burned the mist off the lake. There were a few minutes, however, where I was paddling through the mist, and the rental fee was very much worthwhile in that moment. Admittedly, it is a bit annoying that, despite waking early, I still didn’t beat dawn. Perhaps if I had been out prior to the sun making its appearance I would have done better. I ended up catching a small pike (18-20 inches) and a small bass (13-14 inches). I also lost a fish – Jacob’s year of incompetent fishing continues.

When I got back, the family was just waking up. We lazily made breakfast, cleaned up the truck, packed the trailer, and got ready to leave. Again, we were lucky to pack up dry. Yesterday it rained quite a lot, but the early morning sun burning off the mist also dried up our trailer. It is remarkable that on a four-week journey I have yet to set up or pack up in the rain. Did I just jinx myself?

Leaving at noon, and without reservations, allowed us to proceed at our own pace. Thus, we weren’t rushed when we stopped to see if I could fix our plug. Jordan, when she was helping one day to pack up, accidentally broke off the electrical cord’s cover plate. Today, when I was packing up, I guess I didn’t secure it sufficiently. In Dryden, a stranger graciously rolled down his window to inform me that the plug was dragging some. Probably three or four feet had worked its way out, and the plug itself took a bit of a beating. I’m hoping it works tomorrow, but either way I’m glad it happened at the end of the trip as I can get Dad to help me fix it.

I felt sorry for myself for a bit – I can’t seem to catch a break on the small things. Whether true or not, it sure is how it feels. For example, yesterday’s fishing rod fiasco, which cost me a delicious meal over the fire. Or, the little things that have gotten wrecked in the trailer on this trip, like the cover for the fuses that Jordan accidentally broke – annoying for two reasons: (1) the cover she broke and (2) the breakers she (and Evelyn) keep tripping when they accidentally turn them off because there is no longer a cover to shield them. Some of my problems, of course, are my own fault. Yesterday, while chopping kindling for the fire, I thought to myself, “I should really move my hand.” The next, light (thankfully!) swing of the hatchet left me thinking, “Dang it, I really should have moved my hand!” I busted the nail and took off some skin from one of my fingers. I only swung the hatchet a few inches, but it was enough. Still, my fault or not, I feel like I can’t catch any of the small breaks sometimes.

Driving for hours can be good for you. Small breaks might not be on my side, but thankfully, the big ones are. Need I say more than I am ending a four-week tour with my family of this fine country, visiting friends and cool places? I have a pretty great life. Broken things can be fixed.

Stopping to see if I could buy a part for the trailer took a bit of time, but so did a more important task. We stopped again at the Terry Fox monument. When I stopped with the girls on the way West, we talked about Kathleen and her imminent future. Today was a more somber visit. Since leaving, three people close to me have passed away as a result of cancer: Leia’s great aunt Vera, Kathleen, and my grandfather. We laid flowers today and the girls recounted their favourite memories. It was windy and cold, so we didn't stay long. Probably appropriate weather for how we all feel. Getting closer to home makes some of it sink in more. Kathleen’s memorial next weekend will be tough, as will coming to grips with the fact that Vera is no longer in Waterloo.

We decided to drive as far as we could. Around 11pm, the girls were all coming undone. In fact, earlier in the evening was perhaps the low point – not for them, but for me. Given that there have been long hours in the truck (over 800 kms today), the kids have been exceptional. As should be expected, as the trip nears its end, the kids are increasingly wound up. Long days, late nights, too much excitement, etc., have them bouncing off the ceiling. Tonight, they wouldn’t calm down or listen, and were quite rude about it all. The pressure of driving in moose territory, coupled with the fact that today we passed the 9,000 km point, and the rest of the trials and tribulations of this trip, had me blow a fuse. I went from a 1 or 2 on a scale of 10 in the “quiet down girls” department, to an 11. The girls and I hugged it out at the next stop, and all is now well.  At 11pm, I was more patient with them. I was less patient with the highway robbers known as motels. We stopped in Marathon and inquired about a room. Jordan and Marley were both claiming to feel ill, and Evelyn was crying out of sheer exhaustion. When Leia reported that a room for a crappy, highway-roadside motel was $117 plus tax, we kept trucking.

The girls didn’t really like that. We tried a few more places, but they were either full or equally as expensive. Having slept in the vehicle more times than I can remember, I have an aversion to paying for a room for a few hours on road trips just to sleep. The few times I have gotten a motel room was because my vehicle was packed to the brim, like when we moved back to Ontario from Edmonton, thereby precluding any opportunity to put the seat back. So, I kept trucking tonight. Leia and I agreed, however, that we would try to get a room in White River. I mentioned before that my family hates White River.

Tonight I love White River. The motels had no vacancy, but while Leia was taking Jordan and Marley to the washroom, and as I was mentally preparing to drive further and trying to catch a few minutes of rest, Leia discovered that we could camp in the parking lot for the Winnie the Pooh monument for free.

I’ve never been so pleased to camp so close to a bear. 

Friday, 2 August 2013

Fishing for Trees


(Still crapy internet, sorry.)

Isaac and Erica departed for Uganda yesterday. In his final year at Saint Mary’s University in Halifax, where he is studying international development, Isaac had an option to do a year abroad. He and Erica chose Uganda. It was not only more affordable than some of the other options, he felt it was more credible than a year abroad in London or Ireland, two of his other choices. My final text to him yesterday was a bit smug – I’ll catch you the big fish, Isaac, while I’m on Lake of the Woods.

Fishermen (and fisherwomen) everywhere know about Lake of the Woods. For me, it has always been the mecca of fishing. It is a big lake with lots of arms, channels, islands, and bays, making it more dynamic and interesting than, say, any of the great lakes. It is also more remote, although its popularity means lots of traffic. Still, it boasts big fish. For me, some of my biggest are from Lake of the Woods, as it was here, while ice fishing for pike or walleye, that I caught four lake trout. No fish tale, one had to be fifteen or sixteen pounds. Another was pushing ten. Staying here I hoped to spend a few hours fishing this wonderful lake, and I told Isaac I’d catch him some hogs.

Nope.

For starters, I’m not fishing Lake of the Woods. I’m fishing Dogtooth Lake, which is the lake Rushing River is situated on. I had hoped to go out on Lake of the Woods with Doug, and did hear from him, but he never gave me his number nor suggested any plans. I had thought about renting a boat, but the reality is that I’m with the wrong crowd. The cost of renting a power boat wasn’t a problem – knowing that none of the four girls would be willing to fish for eight hours, even if we were catching fish, however, was. Driving back and forth to the campground, or arranging pick-ups, etc., was just too much of a pain. So, we rented a canoe.

I love canoeing, and I love canoeing flat water. While I have been converted to thoroughly enjoying white water – and am sad that I’ll be missing this year’s Madawaska trip – I still enjoy being on a lake. One big reason is that I can fish. Today, we had the whole family in a canoe, and at one point, all five of us fishing.

Canoeing has been part of Leia’s and my relationship from the get-go. Shortly after we first met, in July of 2002, I went to Algonquin with friends while she was at a camp nearby in Pembroke. Canoeing came up in our discussion about our trips. She knew I was a fisherman and avid paddler, so for my birthday that summer she purchased me a beautiful bent-shaft paddle. I used it today. It was a fantastic gift. For our first anniversary, Leia surprised me with a get-away weekend, where we went to a bed and breakfast in Maryhill, had dinner at a bookstore-cafĂ©-restaurant, and followed that up with a paddle down the Grand River. We’ve not done much canoeing in recent years, given the babies and pregnancies, but last year we got out on Oastler Lake. I think that was the moment the idea for this trip was born. So, it is fitting that on our tenth anniversary tour we went canoeing. While the paddle I am using remains the same, the space between Leia and I in the canoe looks much different. Three burgeoning canoeists now fill the hull.
I should have had dinner caught tonight. I had a really nice fish on for a few seconds. Not long enough to positively identify it, but I did see the its size as it was running with my line. I lost it. In fact, I’ve lost many fish this year. It has, overall, been a terrible fishing year for me. My trip to Temagami with Isaac was mostly a bust. We caught fish, but not many – and the ratio was bad if you consider how many hours we fished. One great thing about fishing with another fisherman is that even if you aren’t catching, you keep trying. Isaac and I were dedicated, and spent many an hour paddling and fishing that trip. The highlight of that trip was Isaac catching his first and second pickerel. The joke was on me, as I caught more trees on shore than fish. Something was just off. I also lost numerous fish; I just couldn’t keep them on, and I can’t explain why. On top of that, for our tenth anniversary Leia purchased me a new fishing reel, collapsible rod for backcountry trips, and three Mepps Sycolps (as the chartreuse Syclops is my favourite lure) which represented our kids. On my Temagami trip, in the course of about 10 minutes, I lost two of my lure-kids.

Tonight was more of the same. Things just didn’t work out. We had planned to canoe as a family tonight, and thereby increase the odds of catching fish. But, a thunderstorm with massive rain in the afternoon dampened the mood. As thunder was still rumbling, I fished from the dock for a bit, before finally heading out on my own. I went to where the girls and I had been earlier in the day. While unsuccessful then, I had a good feeling. Shortly after arriving, I cast out a worm, on a hunch, and then had a hit. But, my reel jammed. Not even sure why. The fish got off. I fixed the problem, and tried again. A few minutes later, I had the big fish I spoke of earlier. I set the hook, and began the magical task of playing the fish when … not sure – either line broke or knot came undone (didn’t seem to be the case), needless to say, the fish was gone.

Undeterred, I tried again. But over the course of the next hour, everything went wrong. Lines were birds-nesting (if you don’t know fishing, they were tangling due to the use of lure that spin the line, in my case, the Syclops I love so much), casts weren’t working, I even got a hook stuck in the fishing net. It was one frustration after another. The beautiful rainbow I had seen, the mist floating eerily off the lake, and the silence be damned, I wanted to catch the fish I lost.

I never got it again. I did catch one, measly, pathetic, 3-inch perch.  Some Lake of the Woods lunker!

But, as Isaac knows, I didn’t get skunked. And, that’s all that matters.

Hopefully fishing is better next year. I know I already look forward to Isaac and Erica’s return, so that Isaac and I can get out in a boat, do some paddling, and hopefully catch some trophies.

Thursday, 1 August 2013

Site #52


We knew today was going to be am ambitious day when we booked two nights at Rushing River a few days ago. Having enjoyed my stay here with the girls on the way West, we decided to return to the Kenora-area park, given its proximity to Lake of the Woods. It wasn't initially clear what we’d be doing on our trip back. We contemplated various options, including a States-side run, which we eventually decided against, given the uncertainty of how to transport my Western microbrew finds and the fact that I wouldn’t get a chance to do any fishing. In the end, we elected to head back through Northern Ontario so I could fish, even if briefly, with the kids. We also decided that it would be fun to sprint across the prairies so we could spend more time fishing. So, we booked two nights at site #52.

Once we made the reservations, we committed ourselves to a minimum of 15 hours travel. This would be the longest day yet, by several hours and hundreds of kilometers. In fact, we travelled a total of 15.5 hours and 1401 km. In order to not arrive at the campsite at 2 am, we got up early. Really early. Early enough that the moon was still shining brightly (should have really gotten a picture!). This meant being prepared the night prior. Leia and I packed the truck, got the kids clothes out, and made sure that we had the bare minimum of tasks to complete in the morning.

At 5:15 am, no matter how prepared, when you jump out of bed and start shoving kids into carseats and packing up a tent trailer, things are bound to go a bit awry. First, there was the problem of the pull-out dining room not sliding in properly. Second, there was the problem of not noticing this right away. Third, while I made a mental note to make sure I put up the mostly useless shelf that holds keys and the odd dishtowel behind the sink (it folds up into the ceiling), I forgot. When Leia was cranking the trailer down, she didn't do the normal walk around mid-way, so she didn’t notice one end not going down, impeded by the shelf. A thrown-to-the-ground hat and some hushed unpleasantries at the situation – after all, it is around 5:35 am, and the neighbours are sleeping, precluding any kicking of things, boisterous cursing, or throwing of pots and pans – we rectified the situation, and got moving shortly there after. A quick stop at the washroom and to take a picture of a deer grazing in the parking lot (one of eight deer today!), we were on the road. Departure time: 6 am.

Leaving at 6 am, aside from being mental, is actually nice. There are few people on the road. You feel good for having accomplished so much in such a new day. The temperature is cool. Leaving at 6 am and driving until 10:30 pm (technically, 9:30 pm, but we crossed time zones from Mountain to Central), well that sucks. Especially when there are three kids in tow.

As mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve driven across this fine country many times. And, many of those trips included late into the night driving, including straight through the night. I’ve only ever gotten up early to drive when I’m sleeping in my vehicle. On at least two occasions, I awoke simply because I was cold. The worst was in Foam Lake, Saskatchewan with Isaac in January of 2009. We parked around 2 am, and when we awoke a few hours later, it was -40ish. While we had warm sleeping bags, it still sucks to sleep in a truck in a random parking lot. I believe I drove in my sleeping bag for about half an hour before the Expedition had sufficiently warmed up. Getting up early to pack the trailer, however, was a great strategy. Aside from our mistakes, I’d call the start to the day a success.

Driving all day wasn’t so bad either. Hoping to make Rushing River before it got too late, we stopped very little. Other than washroom, gas, food, and coffee breaks, we drove. That meant forcing the kids to do jumping jacks in parking lots, or while waiting to have subs made. We were in four provinces today. There were a few moments, but the kids were more than reasonable. One of Leia’s highlights of the day was making fun of Evelyn. The poor kid gets slaughtered by mosquitoes, much the same way I do. What can I say, we’re sweet! Anyhow, she has mosquito bites over each eye, making her appearance a bit goofy. I got enjoyment out of capturing Leia sleeping in the truck. A few days ago we took pictures of Jordan and Evelyn pulling a “Papa”. That’s when you sleep with you mouth wide open. Turns out, they might have actually inherited that from Mom. I was made to promise that I wouldn’t post that picture, so you’ll have to ask me in person to see it.

The only real downside in the day of travelling was learning of Kathleen’s passing on Monday when we finally were able to get online. When we left KW, we fully anticipated that Kathleen would pass away during our trip. As we neared our return, however, we began to think that we might get to see her again. When we pass through Thunder Bay, I think we’ll make another stop to lay flowers at the Terry Fox monument.

The day was going well, until about 9:30. Then it started to rain. For most of the evening, there had been dark storm clouds gather on the horizon. I fully expected to have to write that today was the first time I set up in the rain. As it turns out, that didn't occur. While it was raining west of Kenora, Rushing River was, and remains as of now, dry. But, the thought of rain did dampen my mood a bit. Then there was the deer. We saw seven in total, and six of those in about an eight-minute span, all to the west of Falcon Lake, Manitoba. Leia noticed that I had slowed down some. With a long day, I elected to burn some extra fuel and speed up. Seeing the deer, I subconsciously slowed down. In 2008, when I was driving home load 1 of 2 for our move back to Ontario, I hit a deer east of Yorkton at about 11:30 at night. That was with the Expedition. I won, but it did cost my insurance company about $3500 to fix. The Expedition is much bigger than the XC90. I didn't want to hit a deer.

Finally, as the girls were coming undone at the seams, we arrive at Rushing River. We immediately headed towards site #52.

How I hate site #52.

Ontario Parks has an online reservation system. I reserved this site from Squamish. There is no way I could have possibly known that it is most on an angle. I knew it was rock, but that’s not a problem with a tent trailer. The angle is a problem. I also had a hell of a time getting the trailer in. It is up a slight hill. My truck has pulled fantastically this trip, but those little hills, with loose gravel and no momentum, are tough. I got up the hill, only to learn I wouldn’t be able to back in the site. I know, I’ll pull into the big site and do a big u-turn.

That failed. Miserably. I almost got stuck in the site, and then almost hit the power pole with the Volvo trying to get out. I spent several minutes going back and forth, conscious of bugging my neighbours (as it was then close to 10:45 pm), and ruining my truck.

So, I tried backing in. I was almost in, when I realized that to complete the maneuver meant sliding down a giant cliff – ok, more of a gully – fine, a ditch, but still scary. I couldn’t back in from above, and while I didn’t try, I don’t think I could back in from below, given the angle, my truck’s power, and the absence of the requisite skill.

Finally, Leia discovered that I could pull in between the fire pit and some trees. I realized afterwards that, despite not being my site (I suspect), that I could have parked my truck behind the firepit. Too late! The trailer is now set up at the bottom of the little hill, a tad unlevel, and everyone but me is sleeping. I shot my nerves a bit trying to back in this site after such a long day, so I’m rewarding myself with some scotch.

My biggest problem was that I arrived in the dark and couldn’t fully assess the situation. Even sweeping the site with a headlamp did little to help overall. I also probably tried to go too fast, so as to not annoy my neighbours, which made things worse when all of my maneuvering was only successful at annoying my fellow campers and leaving me feel exhausted.

Oh well, we’re in. Getting out – that’s another day’s problem (and perhaps not a problem at all!).
If tomorrow works out, and Doug, whom I met several years ago (he leant me the ice fishing gear that caught the giant lake trout on Lake of the Woods that is my banner picture), might take us fishing. If he doesn’t, I’ll rent a canoe. Getting on the water will make me forget tonight’s horrible conclusion, as it always does.

The length of the day, and its awful conclusion, left me feeling quite exhausted. My eyes keep going blurry – and, no, I didn’t have that much scotch. Good thing tomorrow I don’t have to move or drive anywhere (unless the weather completely sucks, which means we might bail). Instead, I hope to catch some more fish with my girls. I couldn’t ask for a better day!

(Again, I apologize for no pictures, but the internet at various free places has been so slow that it takes far too long. I'll update pictures when I have time or faster internet!)