Shaving Kit Not Included, The 2015 Cross Canada Expirience (Parts 1-4 / 9 )

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"Armed with nothing but a camper, a tent & kit, 2,500 pages of reading material, many electronic distractions and a grandfather unit, we will cross over 4,000km from Kemptville, Ontario to Vancouver, British Columbia in a span of twelve days, then attempt to come back!"

Such was our goal. Well, that's how any good journey starts; with a goal in mind and time on our side. This all started as an idea not too long ago, just around the final exam period of my school year. We (my family and I) were discussing summer plans and passing around ideas of spending time down in Vancouver. Then my grandfather came out with this brilliant idea: "Why don't we drive there? Across Canada and back?" Pretty much at the mere mention of a road trip I smashed my computer keys as fast as I could and launched my reply. Well, more of a "Make it happen" statement then anything, but put more politely (of course). And so, planning began behind the scenes while I "focused" on my exams, and now here we are; crossing Canada like madmen.

The whole event had begun one the early morning of July 1st, 7am. It wasn't a hectic morning, more just trying to power-up to full alertness as I checked my bags and double checked my batteries. Last minute music purchases were made off of Itunes (didn't have time to "borrow" them from my other sources), and before I knew it, grandfather was at the door. We had left the house around 10am, pretty much on schedule, but we agreed between each-other that the trip hadn't begun until we fully left the Ottawa region into Petawawa. You know that saying that goes "The grass is greener on the other side"? Well, the more we put distance between ourselves and Ottawa, the more it became true, but not so much because it was greener but the fact that the forest just seemed to go on and on and on and on! I don't think there was a moment there wasn't a tree in sight.

And as we drove on, looking out the window and watching the scenery fly past, you start thinking and picking up on things. Like how many near-abandoned motels there are on each side of the highway, or the amount of RV park and campsites that now featured Wi-fi, or how long it has been since you've last seen something remotely close to a densely populated area. It seemed like once you left Ottawa, things just spread out farther than a kid trying to avoid the trip to the dentist. And the few homes you did see often made you grateful of what you had. These people we passed, the few there were, must have either lived off the land, driven for miles to get to work, or found the very few scarce jobs there were out there, and sadly, it showed in their home. Tattered, rusted, unmaintained yards, run down vehicles, trash scattered about, you name it. The majority of the homes we passed had at least one of these prominent features, though there was the very odd ones that did seem in a little better position.

Another thing to notice was how almost every town or grouping of homes, no matter their current income status, had some sort of commercial chain store and/or restaurant in the community. I'm glad I didn't try to keep track of how many McDonalds, Tim Hortons, Walmarts and things of the like that we passed. It was like they grew from a known name brand to a parasite of sorts. Now, I can't allow myself to complain, having been a frequent shopper to these establishments myself, but I wont lie about how it came as a bit of a shock in their numbers.

So, as the day drew to a bit of a close, we pulled into the very small town (if you call it that) of Masey, Ont. It was a quiet place, but it had its charm. We parked the camper in the provincial park and set our kit up for the night. Supper was a very good pizza from a local corner store and restaurant called Poirier, owned by what I can only assume was a local and well known family. Since most of the shops were closed on that day (being Canada day and all), it was a local hangout filled with people who felt like they had nowhere else to go before the fireworks (not complaining, they were an interesting and friendly lot). We toured around the town while waiting for the food to be ready to pick up, and it must have taken us no more then 30 minutes on the slowest speed to see it all, so when I say small town, I mean it.

The following morning, 7am wake-up call, we had breakfast at the local cafe, again family owned and run by a nice, older lady, then it was off on the road again. Unlike the previous day, today's travels would be on a much more winding and mountainous road. But my word was it nice, passing right by lake Superior for a very large sum of the trip, and were we ever treated nicely by Mother Nature. The sun was fully out, not a cloud in sight (compared to the previous day's downpour'o fun) and a nice breeze. We stopped somewhere along the road and set up on a small shoreline for lunch, having the leftover pizza and stretching our legs in the sun. This, at this point in the trip, had been my favorite moment by far. (But for the few moments I wasn't staring outside, I found my nose buried in reading material.)

Our travels of that day ended in Marathon, Ont. The RV/Camping park there wasn't quite as nice as the previous one, but it did support a Wi-fi signal and enabled me to contact the (now) distant world from where I came. Supper was at a small, almost back-alley restaurant. The meal felt a bit greasy, but the staff was rather kind. Following morning was the same routine: 7am wake-up call. We had breakfast at a local place claiming to have the best coffee in town. The owner wasn't really a morning person, but the meal was certainly better then her mood (a cranky lunch lady makes the best toast apparently). After breakfast, we packed up our kit and set out again, shadowing lake Superior for most of our trip again. At some point along the trip, I had finally finished my first book, cutting off 435 pages from the starting amount of 2,500. I had decided I would save the follow up book for the next day, and returned to watching the scenery pass by outside my window. Again, this day was another sunny, clear day, and it stuck around until our arrival in Dryden. And our entry was hailed by nearly running into a full container of gas that had fallen out of a black Chevy that passed us mere moments earlier. Had it not been avoided, I may not have been able to be sitting here, typing this out for y'all. Disaster aside, we pulled into our campgrounds for the night.

I must say, there are kind people in this world, and then there are a very special kind of kind people. The campsite we stayed at in Dryden was run by a Swiss family who, mere moments after meeting them, we had already come to like them. Not just that, but the amount of care they put into keeping their site neat and tidy was incredible. I don't think I've ever walked into a campsite washroom and be greeted by carpeted floors, air conditioning and, get this, REAL TOILET PAPER! Not that crappy, paper thin junk, I'm talking charmin ultra levels of comfort! I know I'm getting excited about toilet paper, but come on. How often do you enter a washroom stall and nearly cry at the sight of the usual not-so-good-stuff inside? Yeah, I thought so. But there is one thing I will be honest about...

Dude's campsite has spiders crawling EVERYWHERE.

Walked outside upon arrival, spiders.

Went to crawl into my tent at night, spiders.

Woke up in the morning, spiders.

Tried to leave my tent, mosquitoes.



And spiders.



And not just small, nothings like one would hope. I'm talking pests nearly the size of a smartphone. But enough about them, let me get back on track. Supper was at a local chinese buffet (I could feel myself getting fatter at just the mention of the name), and the morning breakfast was at a family run diner on the outskirts of town. The food was alright, but nothing to brag about so far. We left a little later then planned that morning for no real reason, but made up on lost time at some point during out travels. And as we traveled, what was once rolling hills and mountainous terrain started to become flatter and less forested. And by the time we reached the border crossing into Manitoba, it was almost perfectly flat. We stopped at the information center to update our map and stretch our legs, then set off into the vast flatness that lay before us.

But by the second or third hour, you could almost hear us begging for even the smallest hill or a small group of trees, but no, it was farmland for miles and the everlasting train tracks with kilometer long trains hauling who knows what to who knows where. The vast nothing made this portion of the trip feel almost endless in length, until we were greeted by an odd but very familiar sight. It started to hail golfballs.

That's right, hail varying from pebble size to golfballs of death rained down from the heavens in 30°c temperatures. You can be damned certain we were caught off guard by this, but had a good laugh. I guess someone or something heard our pleas for something to happen and answered. Thanks almighty power watching over us, I guess. Just wish it had been there to cast away the rain from our campground in Minnesoda, Manitoba. It poured so hard, I almost considered not setting up my tent and just putting in earplugs and crashing on the camper's tent next to the snoring grandfather unit. But luckily for one of us (take your pick), the rain stopped at some point during our supper at yet another chinese buffet (my sides are screaming for help). And so, the sun sets on another day, and tomorrow's surprises will soon be revealed.

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