From Thunder Bay we drove north, into the boreal forest of Canada. Soon we saw a sign: limited fuel. We topped off our gas tank. The lakes were beautiful, with crystal clear water. The trees stood tall, straight, and narrow, with pines and birch intermingled.
Words on the map were not towns but simply a cluster of houses. We came into a small town and were welcomed by a snowman 🙂
As we were leaving the town 60 seconds later, we turned around and stopped at a food truck. It was apparent this was our last chance for any type of lunch and despite Mike’s reassurance that he could cook up some delicious instant mashed potatoes at the campsite, we decided to stop.
I had yummy, fresh poutine: fries with cheese curds and gravy, a Canadian specialty! There were dozens of semi-trucks on the road, one after another despite the fact it was a Sunday. I asked a woman who seemed to be running the restaurant what the trucks were hauling. She explained they run across the entire country, from coast to coast, delivering everything from food and produce, to all types of goods.
She mentioned she had only been there a couple years, so I asked her where she was from. She explained that her husband was First Nation. Maybe I’m behind the times, but I had not heard this term and asked her what that meant. She said he was an indigenous person whose family had been kicked off the land. They were living in Alberta when the native people won their lawsuit against the country in 2010. They had been paid to come back to the area and restart their lives. Wow.
She drives 70 kilometers each way to take her youngest to high school. Her oldest is taking college classes and working on the food truck. Her husband is a computer analyst. She pointed to a restaurant across the street and said it had closed in November. The owner of the hardware store had died recently and the store closed. Clearly, life was hard.
Back on the road we were losing our phone signal, which is always weird. We found another gas station, this one in First Nation territory. The people were clearly of native descent, with dark hair and eyes and lovely darker skin. They pump the gas for you and it’s unclear why or if you should tip them. The worker saw our Florida tag and said he had just been to Disney a couple weeks ago and said how crowded and expensive it had been.
The little store was just depressing and Mike said he had been to several just like this in western Canada. Sparse shelves with dusty items lined the few aisles, with plenty of space that had not been used well. The Fresh Coffee that was advertised on the store front was a Keurig machine with powdered milk.
The restroom had no soap machine and no soap container. No one washed there hands there, ever.
But the older gentleman sitting outside with his adorable dog offered me a sweet smile. Then I realized he was following me: did I have any money? I’m still thinking about that store and the people–why is it so sad?
On and on we went. Even on Sunday, the were workers and construction frequently on the road. Like life in Michigan, there is a lot to accomplish once the snow melts.
Soon we had no phone signal at all. I started feeling pretty uncomfortable. There were large potholes and it seemed like Mike was aiming for them haha. I recalled a time in Michigan when I was little and we hit a pothole on a dark rainy night. The tire instantly went flat and my dad had to change it on the side of the speeding highway.
Now we saw only truckers and almost no cars. We were heading to Nagagamisis Provinvial Park, where Mike assued me other people were camping also (really???). And then we saw an amazing sight: a beautiful black bear in the grass. As we stopped to watch we saw a darling little cub pop out of the grass <3 Mama bear lumbered toward our car–clearly she did not want us there. Not wanting to distress her and inadvertently encourage the baby to get closer to the road, we moved on. We saw several other bears down the road.
The drive was long. For reasons unknown, Mike decided to tell me the story of a guy who lived among the bears. After a few years he decided to take his girlfriend there….and they were both attacked and killed.
By the time we finally reached the ranger station, I was trying hard not to have Full Camping Anxiety. There was a couple checking in and they spoke only French. Right, we are in Ontario! The young pretty ranger explained the bugs we were seeing were black flies, but no worries, they aren’t biting yet…………?!?!?!
All my anxieties disappeared when we got to our beautiful campsite on the lake because when we stepped out of the car we were swarmed by the non-biting black flies.
Luckily (???) Mike had purchased two “head nets” lol, I can’t even type the words without laughing!
What can I say except we wore them the entire time and thank goodness! Or maybe if he hadn’t bought them we could have just left….???
We walked in our head nets and sat by the lake in our head nets. Truly though, it was beautiful, serene, quiet.
There would be no cooking of instant mashed potatoes at our campsite. Dinner was cold poutine and leftover pizza from the night before, dining in the car.
It wasn’t bad though, as we could see little birds pipping around. And, we could see rain clouds rolling in. Hmmmmm.
By 8 p.m. we were zipping into our tent, with Mike spending a funny 15 minutes killing black flies.
By 9 p.m. I was falling asleep to the patter of soft rain on the tent. It was completely light out still, but it had indeed been a long day. It was 57 degrees outside, but warm and snug in the tent.
Then in the middle of the night, I woke up. Not to a werewolf or a weirdo, but to a loon. The plaintive ghostly call I had wanted to hear for my whole life was echoing across the lake. My eyes flashed open: there it was again. And I went back to sleep feeling the evening had been worthwhile.
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