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Saturday
morning we did our shopping, Sue did a lovely swan dive over a trucks trailer hitch, followed by a pirouette as her face headed
for another truck, and finished it by landing on her butt between the two offending trucks. I did make sure she wasn’t
in severe agony before I laughed. I got to see the look on her face as she did this magnificent spin mid air on her way to
planting her hiney hard on the pavement. After we stopped laughing and I made sure she wasn’t broken, or too damaged
to camp, we got our last Timmies coffee, and continued on into Algonquin.Provincial Park.
It
was beautiful. The Canadian Shield with its uniquely
blended cross between the deciduous and coniferous forests. Lakes peek out behind breaks in the trees.
We were very excited to see the signs and check in at the campground. We found our site without difficulty and prepared to
set up camp.
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| We have arrived |
We
put up the tent and assessed the layout of the site for strategic placement of our gear. Then because we are goofy, we headed
back to Dorset for gas, more coffee, and to see if we could find an air pump for the mattress. It wasn’t in the box and
Sue was already experiencing some discomfort from her parking lot ballet.
We got our
firewood and took pictures.
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| Algonquin Park |
Then back
to the campsite. First on foot exploration in the form of a trip to the bathroom. Walking past little make shift kingdoms
of single families with their tarps over tables and coolers and stoves. Each with strategically planned areas set for optimal
tent placement for sleeping, a dining area for eating, wood storage, and campfire living rooms. Tents of all makes and sizes,
create unlikely colours peeking through the trees of distant campsites. There was a good amount of space and trees between
sites.
Right at
the end of our campsite and across the road was a portage sign. There was a small path we knew would take us to the water.
It was time to start the fire and set up camp.
Sue and
I are in agreement, we can survive the loss of most luxuries, but Privacy is one thing we cannot compromise. The site was
very remote but the road went half way around our site as it continued up the hill. We were three quarters of the way
up a small hill. We played with our campground set-up and maximized our privacy by wrapping a bungee around a tree and hanging
a tarp between that and the tent pole. The side closest to the road was resolved by stringing a rope between two trees and
hanging towels and the sleeping bag like curtains at a carnival. Gypsies, we are, I tell ya and our caravan just pulled in.
The tent
was brand new. It attached to the Brand New Kia (IYeeeeeeeee!) and was big enough for the air mattress and a good three feet
of floor all the way around it. The air mattress was cushy and the fresh sheets, blankets and pillows made it feel like the
Ritz. Fancy Campin’.
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| Sleeping in the Ritz Algonquin |
It started
getting cloudy but that was ok, it was a mix of sun and clouds and we were on vacation, camping, in Algonquin. Very Cool.
We sat and relaxed. Just ‘let it melt’.
We kept
admiring the moment of being where we were, and how peaceful we felt.
Then we’d
get all goofy and act like idiots making sure we had pictures to hold over each other’s head for life.
We let the
world roll off of our shoulders under the shower of bird calls, chittering insects, whispering winds, and the occasional distinctly
human sound of a neighbouring campsite.
We sat at
our fire for a long time watched our steak cook to perfection, and had some salad we bought premixed at the store. We put
the coffee on to perk and followed the portage sign to get some pictures.
We
were perhaps one hundred feet from the water of Canisbay Lake, keeping in mind that I am not a great judge of distance.
The dense forest smelled like rich earth and clean air. Down a little path we see the water ahead between some trees. We come
across some canoes balanced on their sides at the edge of the shore. The view from the little gap in the trees where the canoes
go through is breathtaking. The soil has given way to sand at the edges of the lake and the roots of the pines entwine to
keep it from eroding away. In front of you is a panoramic view of nature, unfettered by the impact of humanity.
A view of tree lined shores over a lake of little
silver edged ripples. The setting sun behind us cast a shadow on the water and stole the colour as it climbed the opposite
shore.
We returned
to our campsite and washed the dishes. By the time I dumped the big basin of sudsy water into the woods it dark.
We came
back and impatiently waited for the first blip of the coffee pot. Camping coffee truly is amazing. I don’t know whether
it is the taste or the fact that it is harder to make, but it is just wonderful. After an eternity, we finally poured and
prepared our coffee and sat down…
ready for
the first taste?...
Yep
We both
sip…
As realization
hits instead of flavour, I managed to whimper “Hot” around a mouthful of scalding coffee. Sue heard me and took
that great inhale that precedes a laugh and held her coffee that much longer, then she burst into laughter at my pitiful mewl,
and coffee sprayed out of her mouth and into the darkness. Then her burning realization set in. What idiots! We just watched
the stuff boil for like ever, and don’t consider the fact that it is perhaps too hot. We laughed harder when we realized
that she had caught that on tape.
We just
sat there for hours sometimes quietly and other times laughing like idiots and stared at that fire. It was so good to feel
the hum of daily life and the buzz of a career calmly ease.
I made a
comment about how velvet the sky looked in the dark. It reminded me of a black ceiling just beyond the trees. (Did we think
about that? Dimensionally? Yes. Practically? No.)
I am not
sure what time I went to bed, but I took off my sneakers outside at the door and walked across the clean tent floor to the
air mattress. I slid into fresh, clean sheets and blankets, slid my arm under my pillow and was sound asleep in minutes.
At
some time in the middle of the night, something disturbed me and I put my hand down where it was immediately met with icy
cold water. I woke up. It was pouring rain. Just wailing. It was a vicious mix of wind, rain, the black of night, thunder
and lightening. The tent was bending and twisting on its flexible poles.
“Sue!
Wake up! We have to move the mattress, it’s getting wet!”
I heard
her crack up.
“Oh!
You think so huh?”
Apparently
she had been up for what seemed like an hour. Water dripping on her had wakened her. She had shined the flashlight up and
looked for leaks on our ceiling. Nothing.
She looked
around and got dripped on some more. Then it got really bad and the water was raining on her. She shined the light on me.
I was getting rained on like crazy and was still sound asleep. She realized that the fly over the top of the tent had shifted
and we were now sitting under only the screen. Thunder and lightning, cold rain, and a strong wind, and she had to go out
there to fix it. She put her feet down and they splashed into cold water on the floor of the tent. We had a river! She opened
the screen and pushed this heavy blue tarp out of the way. The rain was coming down so fast she was soaked immediately. She
went around the tent and discovered that the “privacy tarp” we’d attached to the tent pole had created a
little river down the side of the tent and at the seam it flowed onto the floor.
With water
dripping off her hair and into her eyes, Sue went to the back of the tent and tried pulling the fly back over the top of the
tent. She is no weakling and the fly wouldn’t budge. It dawned on her that when she had exited the tent, the blue tarp
portion of the fly did seem very very heavy. She sloshed her way back to front of the tent and sure enough. The entire awning
portion of the fly was a giant water hammock. The storm of the century and the wind, and the weight of all that water and,
“Damn do I know how to secure an awning”
Anyway she
dislodged a pole and dumped the awning. This massive wave crashes onto the dirt 4 ft from the door and rushes down the hill.
The fly slipped back to position and she came inside the tent, cold and dripping wet, just in time to hear me say.
“Sue!
Wake up! We have to move the mattress, it’s getting wet!” I guess the sound of 10 gallons of water suddenly falling
5 feet is enough to disturb my sleep, but not much.
I got up
and put our dry stuff into the back of the truck, went outside to use the forest then got back into bed and fell asleep again.
I vaguely recall hearing the sounds of gentle rain and critters playing with our plastic salad containers and stuff at some
point in the darkness. Storms ravaged around in the darkness like giant nocturnal critters trying to find something to eat.
The lightening did crack like it was splitting the sky, and the nylon tent lit up like the paparazzi at a red carpet event.
I was in and out of sleep after that because I was cold. Dampness gets into your bones and I kept waking up so cold.
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