camping

Big Bend NP-3

April 4, 2025

This entry is part 2 of 6 in the series Big Bend National Park

Well… I’m sad to report we did NOT stay in Roswell with the ET’s. We were making too good of time and blasted right on through. Mostly I’m sad because that’s also where we left civilization. We should have stopped there for dinner but we weren’t hungry. Instead, we continued on to Artesia, NM and ate at what appeared to be the only open restaurant in town: La Fonda. We were in and out in a matter of 30 minutes, gobbling chips and salsa (decent), a carne asada burrito (decent — tho, since we expected it to be newborn-baby-sized like most burritos these days are, we split it. It was not newborn-baby-sized so neither of us was very full, which was FINE. Dave declared the margarita was NOT decent. Much to my dismay, he only drank half of it. Oh yeah— and he also got CARDED!

And we were back on the road.

Holy cats! The Permian Basin of southwest New Mexico and west Texas is no April Fool’s joke. I truly think it must have to be seen to be believed. Hour after hour of driving past nothing but natural gas wells, oil drilling, semi after semi hauling endless loads of ??, water tank stations, zigzags of electrical poles, refineries, massive clusters of microgrids (an oxymoron, i know…) — all as far as the eye can see. I’m embarrassed to admit I have never even heard of the Permian Basin (Dave was agog). Certainly I know about Texas oil country…Maybe “Permian Basin” is the Latin term for it…?

When I IMAGINED what oil country looked like, it was NOT like this. I guess I’ve only seen pockets of oil drilling using old One-Arm Bandits. The situation we are driving through now is totally unlike those bucolic little oil pets. I would describe it as the dystopian version. I’d maybe even say it’s the SIXTH Circle of Hell. Or maybe I’d even shift the Eagle post office to the sixth circle and move this area the seventh… And that’s saying something.

I know I’m being extra hard on Texas right now, but I am honestly a bit shell-shocked. I realize “someone’s gotta do it” and that my whining is comparable to an omnivore complaining about hunters and thinking it’s ghastly — I do heat my house and I do drive a car, so… I am a hypocrite. I hate being a hypocrite, so I will work on my attitude.

In other exciting news, we also played our annual “Let’s see if we can make it to the gas station game!” Always a crowd pleaser.

We did. (Make it to the gas station. Twice. This was the first picture. The second time it was even worse.)

And the fridge continues to work, so that’s good.

So, back to the trip an my job as navigator…

… well, let me just segue to one tiny detail from earlier in the day. Dave asked me to drive so he could do some reading before making a call. OF COURSE I WAS FINE WITH THIS (in case any of you dare to assume otherwise). However, DAVE thinks that when HE’S in the passenger seat, it’s all just rainbows and unicorns. “Time off”, so to speak. As such, he eschewed his navigation responsibilities — while I on was on the phone with my MOTHER, no less! Which caused a brief flaring of tempers when the route did something unpredictable and he was annoyed by my annoyance — and where it was established that Dave “hates it” when I “scream” and I “hate it” when he makes “dismissive gestures” and “false claims”.

That out of the way, I resumed my call with my mother and he resumed reading. In earlier Road Warrior Days, as my kids can attest, this would have resulted in a 2 day standoff (on my part, to be clear). So, yeah, I’m a big girl now. A solid teenager, emotionally…

Back to my navigator duties — which i take very seriously, in case you didn’t notice. MY job, after dinner, was to find a place to sleep. No, this isn’t a campground situation. This is a free, not-far-off-the-highway, no-chance-of-getting-in-trouble, preferably-quiet situation. Which is a lot harder to achieve than you might imagine. Especially in the Permian Basin.

Red Bluff Dam Park.

1.5 hours beyond Artesia. Inside Texas boundary — putting us in the Central Time Zone, so 10:30pm — 4 miles from the highway… on a reservoir… free camping…

PERFECT!

I mean it was… and it really really wasn’t. It was pitch black out so we wouldn’t really get the full effect until morning. And neither will you.

RWGHE: Upper Frying Pan River, Day Two

May 19, 2023

4/29/2023

We had a great night sleep and a great breakfast. Then we went up past the reservoir to fish the Upper Frying Pan. There were a couple campgrounds which I knew were closed but we still thought we should check them out. We parked at the first one and fished the river right off the campground road. The river was quite clear, a little thin, and the rocks were more slippery than I would expect for early spring. Dave fished up from me and got a few — browns, which totally surprised us. He was yelling something at me but I couldn’t hear a word so I made my way closer. I stepped off the bank into the water and fell over – that clear water is so deceptive! I thought it was like 8″ deep and it was more like 18″ deep… I filled my waders with water and got soaked. I spent the next 20 minutes undressing, emptying my waders, etc. etc. Thankfully, it was sunny and calm so I wasn’t freezing. When I finally waddled up to Dave to find out what was so imPORtant, I learned he just wanted to tell me that he caught a couple fish. Good grief.

I did eventually catch ONE. (Also a brown.) So that was good.

We went back to the camper to nosh and were surprised to find two pickups that had just arrived to open the campground up — or so we thought. It was actually the campground host coming to see if HE could get in there and stay yet. He was very nice and we chatted for a long time. He said there were a few turn-offs we could camp at a few miles up the road, so we took out the bikes and rode up to check them out. We saw a couple good options, had a nice ride, and in the end decided to simply stay where we were–by the gate of the still-closed campground–knowing that IF the host came back, he wouldn’t care.

I made a a bizarre dinner of pasta, pesto, sausage, garbanzo bean, cauliflower, pine nut, Parmesan. Does that sound good? No? It was fine. Not my greatest concoction, tbh. But you have to understand: we have this back-and-forth thing from Minnesota to Colorado and back down to a science. We are (I am) EXPERT at cleaning the fridge out and almost NEVER throwing ANYTHING away. Not kidding. It’s a bit OCD if I’m to be honest. If not OCD, then let’s call it a genius-level hobby. And that, my friends, is how that meal came to be. It sounded better in my mind than it looked in the pan. But it tasted fine. and I think Dave actually liked it.

The best part of dinner might have been the vodka tonics for me.

4/30/23

Another Surprise: When we woke up it was 27 degrees.

Our wading boots were frozen bricks. Dave thawed them out by the fire and we had avocado toast while we waited. Eventually we were able to get the boots on and hiked a couple miles up beyond the campground to some very nice bends of the river we had spied from our bike ride the day before. The water looked amazing.

We fished it hard. Dave said he saw two dart from the bank–super spooky-like. Our guess is that they were there, but just too spooked to bite. Actually… to be honest, I can’t even say I believe that. Maybe they go down to the reservoir until it warms up? Like Minnesota snowbirds? I dunno. It was so quiet and peaceful and pretty, I was enjoying just that aspect. Easy walking in the river. Warmish. And good snacks in my pack. Eventually, I heard Dave somewhere very distant yelling some indiscernible stuff (once again) and I assumed he was ready to go. And, Of COURSE, right at that exact moment, a nice fish came to the surface and ate my dry fly! HOURS of fishing and the ONE SECOND you take your eye off the ball, hollering your fool head off at your missing husband… #@!^%$! It was on for a few seconds and came off. Still fun though.

I eventually found Dave in the willows – easier said than done — and we hoofed it back to the car, posting-holing through deep snow for long, trying sections. Nothing worse than trying to stay on top of snow, thinking you’ve made it and falling two feet down. Over and over again.

Eventually, I will stop extolling the amazing delight of not having to pop-down the camper. And then pop-up the camper upon arrival home… the Topo2 is just really fun. And easy. And we are still glowing and crowing at being able to just drive away with it.

Interesting fact: as the crow flies, our house in Eagle is only up and over one ridge, about 30 miles away. There is a (currently closed, of course) forest road that connects the two that we’ve driven two or three times. But today we head back the way we came. As we drove by, now a Sunday afternoon, the lower Frying Pan River was up to its normal tricks with all the turn-outs holding a car or three with lots of fishers in the water. Gorgeous weekend.

RWGHE: Upper Frying Pan River, Day 1

May 12, 2023

4/28-4/30/2023 Day One

I’m pleased to announce this trip didn’t go as smoothly. …Always more fun to write about. Nothing tragic, just definitely more Menke-like. Our kids would be happy to know that this kind of thing didn’t just happen while they were being dragged along behind us in the back seat.

We set out, spur-of-the-moment, on Friday around noon after deciding just that morning to take the camper and flee what has become a very congested time of year for fishing close to our house. I *totally* know I am a *huge* hypocrite when I complain about all the new-comers to fly fishing and the explosion of outdoor activity since Covid. But guess what? I’m close to 60 (which means I’m post-meno and way more unapologetic), and I don’t really care. So I’m going to complain anyway.

We’ve only been in Eagle three full years, but we were coming here for the two years before that and I can tell you that the change in river use has been exponential over that time. Meanwhile, I’ve been camping in the national forests forEVER, so at least I have some legitimizing chops in this arena. Covid also changed camping dramatically. I assumed crowds would gradually go back to normal, but I’m not so sure. Time will tell, but for now it’s still pretty crazy.

When I suggested to Dave that we take off for the weekend and find a new river to explore, he said, “You figure out where to go and I’m in.” So I pulled out the books and road atlas and tried to ‘figure it out’. A natural choice would have just been mountain biking near Fruita but I knew the crowds would be gonzo due to it being the first nice spring weekend. We like to be alone — remember, we’ve got an outdoor shower now and NO one needs to see us showering naked in the desert, yeah? (<— this is a thinly veiled Succession reference. Does anyone else watch it? Does anyone else go BANANAS at how those awful people finish every stupid sentence with “yeah?” Ugh. I don’t even know why we are watching it. #digression)

So anyway, BACK TO THE STORY: I was thinking no where too far… either north toward Steamboat or south toward Marble. I was a little worried about snow up north though so I focused on the Marble area, where we had been with the kids once upon a time. The Crystal River flows through there and we have driven along it several times always remarking about how good it looked, but never fished it. (Well, okay, DAVE says we fished it once, but I seriously don’t remember that. And since WHEN does Dave remember something and I don’t?). Bonus: it was only an hour and half drive, provided there be no bozos screwing things up in Glenwood Canyon…

The camper was set to go and all we needed to do was grab some food and bevs for the fridge and pack our clothes and gear. We brought the mountain bikes, too. (I will have to take some pics of Dave’s brilliant MacGyver-ed set up for the bikes in the back of the 4Runner, as it is really nice.)

Surprise #1: Marble is elevation 8000’. Our house in Eagle is 7100’. That 900 feet makes a big difference as far as snow goes. Not a huge deal but still surprising.

Surprise #2: Forest roads weren’t open. Most had signs that said they would open 4/15. That was two weeks ago. This is a big deal because you can’t disperse camp if you aren’t in the national forest and those roads are how you get there.

Surprise #3: Actual campgrounds don’t open until 5/12. Not that we wanted to stay in a campground, mind you, but beggars can’t be choosers. There was an open KOA we passed (several times as we drove back and forth…) but we Menke’s have standards. This was a strict last resort.

Surprise #4: There were no private campgrounds either. At all.

Surprise #5: The “Crystal River” was a mud pit

So we just kept driving. And driving. And driving… We headed up the Frying Pan River toward Ruedi Reservoir thinking “there HAS to be something open along there…”

Surprise #6: There was no one fishing the world-renown Frying Pan River, including at the dam where it is often wall-to-wall fishers. Weird.

Of course, literally never have I ever had the foresight to download maps to use when there is no cell service. Never. (Why? I do not know) So now, all we could do was drive. And drive. Dave completely lost his mind and turned off into any and every dirt track visible from the highway. At one point, rather than get stuck not being able to turn around, he said “I’m gonna walk up and check it out.” He was gone so long that I popped a beer and drank the whole thing before he got back. In the old days this would have been enough to make me give him the silent treatment for at least the rest of the day, but — remember? — I’ve had a lot of therapy, and I only said a few pissy things and let it go. Dave’s a lucky guy, yeah?

At one point we turned off and drove along what could only be described as a mountain bike trail — and now we really ARE hypocrites — finally running into a wall of snow and could go no further. Had to back up about a mile, testing Dave’s prowess using the mirrors. Neither of us is good at that, but dang if he isn’t getting way better after this trip. We thought we hit pay dirt at the far end of Ruedi Reservoir in a little wooded alcove with — oddly — no ‘no trespassing’ signs and were just about to get out when we realized the river was running along the edge of the woods and you can’t camp within 1/4 mile of the river…

Surprise #7: an open gate leading to a day-use area! — the first of the now four hour driving trip. WE know (because we are seasoned outdoor people, yeah?) that overnight camping is not allowed at day use areas, but… there was literally not one sign saying this.

Still, we drove on because, in an interesting role reversal, Dave was not comfortable staying there. He was worried we’d get a knock on the door in the middle of the night. This is usually my phobia. Odd. What wasn’t odd was that Dave, in true Dave Menke mode, still believed we’d find a something better.

We didn’t.

I finally convinced him that the day use was our best bet. So we turned around for the umpteenth time and went back there. I thought it was all going to be fine until Dave realized it was possible that someone would come along and lock the gate and trap us in…New anxieties about that, but in the end we took our chances. We had an insanely good dinner after our almost six hours of driving around like lunatics… Dave saw a rise on the edge of the open water and took some casts… A sprinter van tooled down to join us at dusk. It was actually quite a nice campsite.

[Aside]: while I’ve never had the foresight to download offline maps, I did have the foresight to download a few shows to watch after we tucked into Stormie* for the night. (#priorities) And because we aren’t CRIMINALS, we didn’t make a fire at the day use area and therefore turned in early because it was DANG COLD. Can I tell you how fun it is to watch TV in your teardrop?? (Really fun.)

I can’t believe how long this is getting. Therefore: Part 2 two come at a later date.

*Stormie is my name for the camper. Short for Storm Trooper. Which I am taking 100% credit for. When we finally got the call from Escapod after two years of waiting to make all our selections, including color, we were still on the fence. I had taken a picture of the 4Runner and photoshopped the camper on to the back of it so we could make a decision. It helped, but we were still totally waffling. It was on the call itself that we finally decided on white, mostly because we assumed white would be the least popular color. Plus, the old pop-up was white, so it felt sweetly familiar. Immediately after photoshopping it, I realized it looked like a Star Wars Storm Trooper. I told that to the Escapod person. And wouldn’t you know that a few days later, they finished the very first white camper with black door and posted it on instagram, declaring it their new favorite calling it the “Storm Trooper”! I felt like a new mom whose baby name was stolen, yeah? Anyway, her name is Stormie now. Just so you know.

Road Warriors 5. Conclusion!

June 30, 2014

August 19th 2013

So, yeah. Apparently my journal ended yesterday.

What can I say. I’m getting old. I don’t give a rat’s ass anymore. But still. It’s always just a little shocking for me to realize just how little I actually remember. I always think, “Oh, I’ll remember that.” But aside from some snippets, I remember very little. Maybe it’s a good thing. I used to argue endlessly, with anyone, about anything, because I KNEW I was right. 100% locked. I was right. They were wrong. How long do you want to argue? I can argue longer.

(And no, Mom, you don’t need to leave a comment and tell the whole world how accurate that statement is. Let’s just keep them guessing: maybe she’s exaggerating again?)

Nope. Not exaggerating. Ask Dave, Morgan, Charlie, My mom, dad, brother, former teachers, coaches, friends, ex-boyfriends. The only people who might not have an opinion would be strangers.

So anyway, this new insight into my lack of memory is actually serving me quite well. I never knew relationships and conversations could be so smooth. Why? Because I realize I might actually be wrong. So this is how the other half lives… interesting.

I am digressing because my journal is empty. I have no fun stories written down to share. So I’m using my pictures to clear the cobwebs. This is how I remember it. But should any witnesses want to flesh out the details. I won’t argue. 🙂

To conclude our trip, we drove to the “MUST SEE” falls near Thunder Bay: Kakabeka Falls. It was right near our campground, so we went early and did a quick in-and-out.

They were big, alright.

But let’s just say not quite what I expected.

Well, Dave not smiling and looking 7 day-beard-scary; that I expected. It was just the Mississippi brown color I hadn’t bargained for.

We crossed the border into the US and immediately the car fell into silence as the phones turned on and began searching for signals. And then the repeating soundtrack of Charlie: “AT&T sucks. Dad? Do you have any bars? Mom, does Dad have any bars? Do you have any bars? This sucks.”

And so on and so forth for about 75 miles.

We stopped to eat/shop in Grand Marais. Now THAT town understands traveling tourists, ay?

After hot weather, it was suddenly windy and cold!

That's Jan Koo underneath the hair and blanket — That’s Jan Koo underneath the hair and blanket

Next stop Duluth.

Koo’s got a hotel and Menke’s drove through Duluth to Jay Cooke State Park to secure a campsite. It was pretty quiet and we got a nice spot all to ourselves. We made our last batch of delicious pico quac — fresh tomatoes, avocado, cilantro and devoured it. We all took showers, too… ahhhhhhh.

On our way back to Duluth, we stopped to see the ravages from the flash flood last year, which took the old bridge out. Pretty amazing to think that lazy little brook could have been so violent.

We went back to Duluth and met up with Jan and Wes for a drink on an outside deck while the kids walked around. It’s always fun to re-enter civilization, but was especially so this year after being in Canada for so long. We just didn’t expect our trip around Superior to be so… desolate and remote feeling. We thought we’d be in the midst of cafes and restaurants the whole time. So not the case.

We ate at an amazing swank restaurant, the name of which I cannot remember and do not feel like trying to figure out. I do know it was attached to something like a sausage/dried meat place. Very gourmet. Kids were in HEAVEN.

And so was I

Every meal was a winner. But no one could be quite so happy as this one.

It was a great night and a great end to the trip.

We headed back to our little camper with plans to leave in the morning.

We got up early and stopped at Toby’s for a throw-back breakfast. Really average. How did that place get to be so famous? It had to be based entirely on the cinnamon rolls.

when it's over, it's over. — when it’s over, it’s over.

So that’s a wrap, everyone. We hope to cobble something together for this August, but with Charlie working and in soccer, Morgan living in Madison and also working, it’s going to be tough.

It could be the end of an era.

Is that a tear I see rolling down your cheek?

Road Warriors 5, day 6

June 13, 2014

Don't touch my pastie — Don’t touch my pastie

August 18th, 2013

[sadly, I have no photos from this day, so I’m just throwing some random ones in from the day before.]

Slept like a rock!

Got up and sat on the beach again, drinking coffee. The kids came out and we talked and talked. It was beautiful.

Jan made the most delicious blueberry pancakes. Yum. And also spicy potatoes with sausage. Yum Yum.

We packed up and hit the road at 11 am, stopping for a short hike to see the Agawa pictoglyphs, which involved a dicier-than-anyone-expected traverse across slick rock holding on to chains drilled in to the rock walls while cold waves crashed at our feet. This would not be legal in the U.S.

Stopped for lunch in White River Park — a long drive in to a fairly ugly campground. We ate the last of our RIDICULOUSLY DELICIOUS grilled/smoked spare ribs that I made in lieu of fried chicken to eat in the car, grab from the cooler, etc. The ribs were a huge hit — they became a bit like the rice krispy bars (long gone, may they rest in peace). We thought by going in to the park we’d find a pretty picnic area, but instead we found a gross and uninspiring playground and boat launch where we ate things from the cooler that no one was real interested in (except aforementioned ribs). Ick.

It’s ironic our lunch spot was so dismal, because the scenery from the car over the past two hours has been jaw dropping. Just so, so beautiful. Easily the best of the trip.

Also jaw dropping is Canada’s lack of charm regarding anything — and I mean anything — man made. The towns. The houses. And most notably, the hotels and motels. They are all cold-war era Russia in appearance. It is really, really weird. Are there NO entrepreneurs in Canada? No ambitious restauranteurs who dream of living up north and catering to travelers? It’s twilight-zone material. Like a nuclear bomb killed everyone in 1961 and we are the first people passing through since.

OK, OK, I’ll stop. But really. Anyone got any insight into this? The beauty of this area in fall must be amazing…

We arrived in Thunder Bay at 7:30 pm. Did I mention the cities are ugly? Oh my gosh…

–But I was looking very forward to arriving in Thunder Bay, regardless of it’s lack of curb appeal, for one reason and one reason alone: WALMART AND THE MOONCHAIR. The thought of writing the whole saga of the quest for this chair is a bit overwhelming, but I shall try:

Background: I bought two $15 Moon Chairs on impulse several years ago while at the WalMart in Buffalo. They became the most coveted chairs of all time and the cousins often bickered over them — not to mention me, trying to muscle the kids out so that I could curl up in their cozy goodness.

Our beloved moon chairs, in better days... — Our beloved moon chairs, in better days…

Well, the chairs were not really made for hard-core camping and they finally broke last season. First, I tried relentlessly to fix them. And failed. So, for the past 10 months, I have been obsessivelysearching for them online. One day, I hit the jackpot: apparently Walmart in CANADA continued to carry them. I called the Walmart in Thunder Bay, and they had ONE LEFT. The sales associate said they were not allowed to hold them — nor could I purchase and pick up later — but that I could just look it up online and see if the chair had been sold. This, I was not happy about, but even after long debate the sales associate remained firm.

All throughout this road trip, I have been looking it up whenever Dave’s phone had service. As we got closer, and the Moon Chair continued to be available, I got more and more excited. What a coup this would be!! Dave finally dropped me off and I all but RAN to the sporting goods dept. to pick up my chair.

But of course, it was not there.

Ever wander around a Walmart looking for help? Suffice it to say, I was in Walmart far longer than the “I’ll be right back,” that I lobbed at Dave as I hopped out of the car five minutes earlier. Dave was SO mad at me. —But at least *I* couldn’t have fallen over a waterfall, ay (as they say in Canada)? Maybe he was picturing the plot from “The Vanishing” when Sandra Bullock disappeared without a trace from a gas station while vacationing with Kiefer Sutherland….

ANYWAY.

No one could find the chair. I was obsessed, I was MORE obsessed than Kiefer Sutherland in The Vanishing. Workers confirmed the chair to be in the store. But no one could tell me where. What would YOU do? I looked for it. Eventually, I gave up. I bought some chicken thighs and left. My plan was to come back the next day when the “A” squad was back at work and presumably the woman I talked to on the phone.

After eventually finding Dave, who had disappeared deep in the bowels of Walmart to save me from Jeff Bridges, we left to find our campsite. We drove 20 minutes to the campground to set up. The plan was to eat out in Thunder Bay, but let me tell you: this was not a single inviting prospect. –Even coming from 8 people who hadn’t eaten out in over a week.

We/I decided to pull green curry together for tonight (ha! I KNEW we would end up using it!) and eat out tomorrow — perhaps in Duluth, part of the good old U.S.A). Wes had begun dropping hints that they wanted to bail on our last night of camping in favor of staying at a hotel in Duluth, so dinner there just might work out.

We had a fabbie meal, had copious amounts of marshmallows (Jan & Lydie) and listened to our very loud and drunk neighbors through the woods. They partied nearly all night. Losers.

Oh well, it just makes leaving that much sweeter.

Road Warriors 5, Day 4

May 12, 2014

August 16, 2013

I took breakfast, which was a success — the egg bake turned out great, which defied all odds. First, I realized that Dave’s mom’s recipe called for flour, which I did not bring. In my defense: never in all my cooking years have I made an egg bake that uses flour. I also apparently needed baking soda. Nope. So I, master of all substitutions, used some of Jan’s pancake mix. Which worked awesomely. Cooked it in the cast iron pot over the fire. Now THAT’S camping, people. We also had fried potatoes and bacon.

We packed up around noon after a short hike around the campground (which I had failed to investigate at all, but which was quite pretty. Wes found an intimidating mushroom, which I am fairly certain graced the cover of my dad’s mushroom book that I used to look at when I was a kid. And if I am right, is quite poisonous. Dad? Can you elucidate?

Always eat unidentified mushrooms. Survival of the fittest, and all.

We stopped for Michigan’s famous pasties at Muldans as we headed out of town. We “sampled” the chicken and ground beef offerings. The ground beef was the unanimous favorite even though the chicken sounded way better on paper. Go figure.

Muldon's pasties are approximately the size of my head, fwiw. — Muldon’s pasties are approximately the size of my head, fwiw.

That is not Dave Menke, you crazy internet stalkers.

Another stop for gas and bread (I no longer try to make our bread stretch 10 days, much to the relief of everyone, including me) and we were off, seeking our next stop at Lake Superior Provincial Park.

…And also seeking cell service. AT & T? Not so good when compared to Verizon on this lonely and long stretch of road. We go hours with nothing but blips, while Dave talks away merrily, solving the midwest’s real estate problems… [Those tables will turn eventually in our favor, but I am getting ahead of the story. ] Sit back and I will spin a yarn of family togetherness, love and peace.

Kidding. It’s always hard to get going on this damn journal again.

Dave has driven this whole trip, just about. It is AMAZING!! I love it! I grew up taking long family road trips and literally my dad drove fricken 26 hours straight. Oh, yeah, yeah. My mom will probably chime in here and try to say she drove too, but if she did, I do not remember it. And if so, it was an hour here, an hour there. Imagine my disillusionment with my new husband 24 years ago when he could make it barely three hours before having to turn the wheel over to his blushing bride, lest he kill us both by falling asleep at the wheel.

I mostly hate driving. I basically want to sit and read and read and read. –For when else do I ever have the ability to do that without guilt?

NEVER. NEVER. never never never never NEVER!

So anyway. I love this. I love it i love it i love it i love it!

We crossed into Canada in Sault St. Marie. Wow. What an ugly city — at least what we saw of it.

Bridge to the border crossing in Sault St. Marie

All the phones got turned to airplane mode with many tears of regret and sadness. Dave, of course, did not intend to either buy an international plan OR turn his phone off. [This is just some weird attribute of Dave that I am done trying to change. Inevitably it bites him in the butt and I just try to be there to pick up the pieces.]

–Like the time we were on the train going from Barcelona to Madrid and he was happily pecking away on his iPad. I assumed he was on the free wireless when I received a text (on the free wireless) saying someone on my plan had consumed copious amounts of international data (copious=more than $200). WTH? I had forgotten that his iPad was on MY plan. His phone, being Verizon, is not on my plan. So I don’t really care how much international overages he wracks up.

Ironically, Dave’s service was cut off shortly after crossing the border and took days to straighten out. Ahhhh. Peace and quiet in the car!

Dave? Dave? YES… It’s US: your FAMILY. Welcome to CANADA. We are on VACATION. You don’t remember getting here? Well RELAX. Have a DRINK. ENJOY yourself.

(and he did.)

Immediately, upon leaving the city of Sault St. Marie, the scenery became unbelievably majestic. It felt like we were in the mountains — the Suburban changing gears as we climbed steep inclines surrounded by jagged rock. Crazy!

Beautiful scenery on drive to Lake Superior Provincial Park

I don’t think I’ve mentioned how blue-green the water is [though you probably have seen the pictures from kayaking]. It is so clear! It feels like the ocean. Honestly, it’s really hard to believe we are just north of Minnesota.

It was a spectacularly beautiful drive to our destination of Agawa Bay Campground, where we had reservations. We pulled in — I can’t remember exactly. 3:00? 4:00? No, I remember now. It was after 5, because before we could start unpacking, Jan and Wes came over very sour-faced and sad “ISH! This place is like the Ghetto! We can’t stay here!” [and yes. i really do need all those exclamation marks.] And so, a contingent trooped back up to the check-in building to try to get more private sites and determine our options. I remember it was after 5 because I was on for dinner and I remember thinking if we moved, we wouldn’t be eating until well after dark. [and yes. i really AM writing this entry days later and hence the fuzzy memory. this journal-writing blows.]

Anyway, it doesn’t matter, because we ended up staying put. There really weren’t any other options unless we wanted sites that backed right up to the highway, which was very noisy and busy.

And even then we didn’t eat until after dark!

We had rib eye steaks cooked over the campfire with big bakers (potatoes), and eggplant and zucchini from the garden. soooo good! And worth the wait.

The ghetto campground? Well, you will just have to wait until day five!

Road Warriors Five, Day Two

April 28, 2014

August 14, 2013

After a ridiculously delightful meal of Biscuits and Gravy (which I must remember to post sometime here for your own delightful pleasure), we left the comforts of the cabin at 7:45 am.

The Koos somehow (well, I know how) got about 45 minutes ahead of us. (Gas, Preparation H Moist Wipes — don’t ask, won’t tell — Potty, Coffee, Two Wrong turns later…) There were four separate stops when it was all said and done.

We met back up in Munising, MI at the visitor center after Koos had determined that finding a first-come site on the lake was futile. It seems those sites are, according to the locals, expertly jockeyed-for and never available to anyone not “in the know.” We landed, instead, at Widewaters campground in the Hiawatha National Forest — wooded, private and very nice. I have said before that Minnesotans do not need a lake for camping. Private, “pee-worthy” sites are far preferred.

So we set up camp and the group hung at the Menke site, playing “Celebrity”* and enjoying the antics of Jan: surely the lightest-weight drinker that ever lived. How fun would that be? To have one drink and be so buzzed? Think of the calories and time saved. –Not that being buzzed is the goal, of course. No, no, no. Of course not. But still.

The most memorable line of Jan from day one:

(In reference to camping in the Boundary Waters the previous summer) “The more I thought about it, the more it grossed me out. With all those people using the designated camp sites, it is inevitable that you are camping on someone’s poop.”

Ahhhh. I’ll have another gin and tonic, please…

Eventually, to Lydia’s relief, I made a move to get dinner going — Spaghetti — which was very good, despite the fact that it was much thicker than normal. And the fact that I heated it up in my über-cute, antique, sky blue, enamel cast iron pot with the — oops! — flaking enamel inside, scraping the bottom as it reheated, causing tiny squares of enamel to flake off and mix with the sauce… Kind of a bummer. Oh well. What’s a cracked crown compared to delicious spaghetti?

Added to the spaghetti was yummy cheese bread and arugula, tomato, mozzarella salad.

S’mores were brought out immediately after — where it should have ended — however, Morgan made the ridiculously fatal mistake of causally walking over to the S’more group eating one of my coveted (and carefully hidden) caramel-rice krispy bars — a H U G E indulgence/sacrifice undertaken by ME to please both Morgan and Charlie, who disagreed (as usual) about which bars to bring this year: regular rice krispy bars or Special K bars with no chocolate frosting. I decided to end the argument by making — drumroll — Aunt Rita’s Caramel Rice Krispy bars. Something that requires actual TIME and PATIENCE (virtues in short supply the day before a Road Warrior Road Trip).

Morgan arriving at the campfire, casually nibbling this delicacy was truly a pivotal moment and required lightning speed attitude readjustment and a silent self-pep talk (let’s be honest and call it a prayer) in order for me to graciously offer the bars to everyone after Lydia spied the dessert intruder with her keen eyes.

But really. It’s fine.

Sugar is a toxin, after all. And I should share the wealth.

Even with that disaster, it was a fun night.

*Celebrity: google it for the rules. Fun group game and way more fun than Charades.