North!

I was thinking North. Canada is big. If you look at a map of Canada you will see lots of towns with no roads to them. The Northern part of Canada is wide open with few, if any roads. The map I was using marked a number of roads that were winter roads only. Their routes crossed rivers and lakes when everything was frozen over. Frozen over! For the last three mornings there had been frost on my car. A month earlier I was swimming in the ocean off of the Florida coast. Now I was in an area that freezes over all winter long and I was about to go... Norther!

It was one of the reasons for heading into Ontario in the first place. Go as far North as possible within my time constraints. Ignace would be my jumping of point. I would drive up to Pickle Lake and keep going. The pavement ended at Pickle Lake, but one of my maps showed that it continued as gravel. Oboy! Let's go at least a hundred miles into the bush! And what a name for the end of the road, Pickle Lake! Funny thing about Pickle Lake. A few days later I was checking into a Motel and the Lady at the desk raised her eyebrows when I mentioned I had been to Pickle Lake. An opportunistic Wild Bird

"Pickle Lake, were you Crazy?"

"What's wrong with Pickle Lake?"

"You're lucky you didn't run into a roadblock."

"Roadblock? What?"

"The Indians up there set up roadblocks. They stop you and then help themselves to whatever they want of yours."

"Well I didn't see any roadblocks and none of the locals I spoke with said anything about them."

"Well then, you were lucky."

Personally I don't know. It might be a vicious rumor. There is a bit of friction between the aboriginals and the settlers where I was up North. For some reason, the Canadian Government is extremely generous to them, some feel it is undeserved welfare. I heard all kinds of stories. Alcoholism, gangs, nothing good going on. One thing I keep in mind when listening to these things is that for many people (and the media) it is more fun and interesting to relate stories about the bad aspect of folk. So if one in a group of ten people is misbehaving, that person will be talked about a whole lot more. People outside that group of ten will associate the tenth's behaviors with the whole group of ten. I didn't study the issue long enough to tell which way the scale is tilted.

It was a 200 mile drive to Pickle Lake. I filled my tank at the store in town. When I was paying I chatted with the clerk.

"So how much further does the pavement go?"

"Not too far, but I don't know exactly, I have only been here two weeks."

"Two weeks? What brought you up here?"

"My girlfriend, she got a job as a school teacher in town." Lots of moss and lichen

"Oh my and you followed her way up here? You must really love her."

"Oh Yeah. I can't wait to get the cable TV installed so I can get an internet connection again."

"Cable? Way up here?"

"I don't watch TV, but that's how you get high-speed. Yeah , cable, they have a big dish outside of town."

It was clear he could provide no local gossip. I paid and went out. Three miles later I hit gravel and noted the odometer reading.

It was a wide and well-maintained gravel road. It seemed an endless drive that went on forever. When I was about 35 miles beyond the asphalt I passed a road grader. The Grader was on his way to work . I never thought of the logistics of maintaining a road this far beyond the edge of everything. The grader had a camper trailer in tow. Apparently the driver was going to set up camp way out somewhere and work the grader close to his campsite. When I was driving back I saw the grader again and his campsite about 40 miles beyond where I passed him.

Just about 100 miles in, I found a nice place to camp. There was a lake, no one else around. No one except some black and white birds that were quite bold and friendly. It was pretty easy to get them to eat from my hand. They took a gadzillion peanuts and hid them into the nooks and crannies of the Jack Pine trees. The next morning I saw a squirrel finding all of the hiding spots, extracting the peanuts and moving them to a cache of its own.

It is interesting how you might think you are way far out in the middle of nowhere and someone else will stumble into your scene. The second day a truck drove up and stopped by the latrine. Afterward, they drove the loop around the camp ground and stopped by my camp. It turned out to be a semi-local couple. They had been coming up to that area every year for fifteen years spending six to ten weeks in their trailer which was set up about 25 miles away. They were just out for a drive. Looking for mushrooms for their supper and maybe a few grouse on the way back. We talked for over an hour. He never once mentioned road blocks. We did, however, cover the topics of moose, moose hunting and bears. Oh there were bears in the woods and when they poop they don't use Charmin. I asked if he thought I had my food tied up high enough. He said yes, probably. "Bears can't look up. Their heads won't let them. They might smell the food but they can't or won't think to look up."

I wrote a poem that involved bears that morning: These bold birds are easy to get eating from your hand

I can't sleep with my honey

because of the bears

They might try to come get it

thinkin' it's theirs.

So, come the morning

it's no honey for me,

Cause it's too cold and hard

to put in my tea.

Clearly not Shakespeare.

The second day I also realized one of my tires was leaking air. Hmmm a flat tire 100 miles into the bush. I think I might have picked something up the previous day when I was exploring some track that went way off into the woods. Good thing the my truck had a spare, I would have to drive carefully on the way back and curtail any more exploring until it was fixed.

There is one thing to keep in mind about North. When you are up there you just might be the only one around for miles. Be prepared to spend time if something goes wrong. Don't drive out more than half a tank if you have no spare fuel. Gravel roads will lower your mileage. And be aware of bear.

Music
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Travel
      Bits of VA
      Wiggling the Adirondacks
      Washington
      Hey, Let's hit Idaho
      A Drive About (series)
          And We're Off
          more...
      West Highway 162
      A Jaunt to Nevada
      Coffee and Pie (series)
          Branson to Fayetteville
          more...
Misc

Travel Posts
Sioux Lookout, Dryden
Sep 13, 2006
I was driving back in from the woods. I drove Sixty miles or more through a smoky haze. I thought at first I was near a sawmill that was burning its sawdust, but I wasn't driving beyond the smoke...
  North!
At the Lone Pine Motel
Sep 10, 2006
"I have good dreams..." The speaker was a fellow who repairs cameras in Missouri. He was showing me pictures of the propoerty where he lived. He had put in a lake and decorated it with lots of stone walls, docks, six-sided buildings and a waterwheel, actually three of them. Apparently, he dreamt of waterwheels a lot
To Ignace, ON
Sep 09, 2006
"Gravy," One fellow offered. The whole table assented
To Schreiber ON
Sep 08, 2006
When one travels left and right, up and down on the map, certain things keep needing adjusting. Three days ago I could leave at 6:00am and it was breaking light.
In Wawa, ON
Sep 07, 2006
How do we choose where we end up?  When to stop? For some it is a personal choice. Others have it chosen through circumstance, work or other obligations causing us to be in one place or another.
To Wawa, Ontario
Sep 06, 2006
I'm chasing ignorance. Mine specifically. I see it everywhere and like a mad fire fighter I get dizzy with stomping it out, spinning like a dervish at 78 rpm.
to Onaway, MI
Sep 05, 2006
It was an interesting conversation going on at breakfast. Two older men sitting at a table. Only one was facing in my direction and he had a louder voice...
To Standish, MI
Sep 04, 2006
In San Francisco you learn to love the fog. Intimacy reveals its subtleties. You can choose to revel in those things you love about the inevitable while being prepared to endure the worst.
To Newaygo, MI
Sep 03, 2006
I left Niles, Michigan. Once again the morning was cloaked in fog, thinner, more of a dense haze than a fog. Perhaps I was just getting used to it.
To Niles, MI
Sep 02, 2006
I left Rock Falls, Illinois early. Driving east into the sunrise. More morning fog. Dense fog, thin fog, stringy fog. Foggy foggy foggy. There wasn't too much to take pictures of.
To Rock Falls, Illinois
Sep 01, 2006
It was nice to wake up in Iowa. The rolling hills and broad fields of crops are lovely to drive among.
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Canada
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