Author: russloomis

From the porch last night, I was awakened by the sound of a bowling ball slowly bouncing down the stairs. It was Inky walking down to the living room. I soon fell back to sleep. I slept until Nancy brought Moe out to the porch to see me at 8 a.m. The day begins.

Breakfast and coffee, of course. Some planning to get home. The option home ends with the better of the worst. The drive home is seven hours long. We now have Inky with us, his food, and litter box. If we find a place to camp at the midway point, it will be a difficult night crowded into the camper. Not a good option. If we leave mid-morning, Nancy’s preference, we will get home around 7 p.m.  That means opening up the house and turning on the electric, water, and gas late in the day. Nancy will be tired, I will be shut down when we get home. Not a good option. The better option is to get up and leave early, the get-it-over-quicker choice. Nancy will be tired, I will be trashed, but we will be home in the afternoon. It will be easier to open the house.

I am not looking forward to the tour’s end. It has always been hard ending the tours.

To get my mind off tomorrow, Nancy and I take Moe for a walk to the Jigger Shop for ice cream. On the way back, a couple sitting by the path offers Moe the rest of a dish of ice cream they cannot finish. SCORE for Moe! His lucky day. My score is a zip tie on the ground that has been cut the right way; the grip end is still attached; it is still usable. Nine out of ten zip ties I find, some idiot has cut them usable.

Dinner is grilled chicken, garden salad, and corn on the cob. This is enjoyed alfresco on the back patio. Beer sampling outlives dinner. Tasting and commenting on the brews continue long after the last sip.

I was tired when I went to bed last night. The hope for a good, solid sleep did not happen. A double bed with two adults trying to squeeze around a dog and a large, fluffy cat may be cozy but not ideal for sleeping.

I wake more tired than when I went to bed. I manage to get down to the kitchen and make toast and eggs. Coffee follows as I melt into a comfy chair in the den. I think I am awake, or am I sleepwalking through the morning?

Nancy and Sue go to a craft fair, and Moe stays with me. Moe, with more energy than me, reluctantly follows me upstairs for a nap. I think he is sleeping out of boredom. Noonish, Nancy and Sue return. I remove myself from under the covers and go downstairs to face the day. I am somewhat rested.

Nancy puts a cinnamon whiskey cookie into my hand. This is a very interesting cookie. The sweetness dissolves, leaving a definite whiskey overtone. One taste is not enough; the cookie is now gone.

Family friends from the neighboring cottages come over to visit. Time passes, and Jeff prepares to Green Egg for grilling burgers. Sue puts together a salad. I set up my tent on the front porch for a peaceful, fresh-air night’s sleep.

An ordinary day on tour is anything but ordinary. This morning is no exception. I broke routine by skipping breakfast. I did eat a few handfuls of trail mix and swallowed a glass of orange juice before packing and loading the car and camper. The drive will be about four hours.

I say goodbye to the people we connected with at this campsite. A stop at the trash dumpsters and the camper dump station is all of the ordinary today.

We leave the State Park and head down the roads to head east to turn onto an interstate to merge onto another to head south into Pennsylvania.

We get off the second interstate onto small roads to connect to a third interstate. But now my brain is fried from this hectic pace. Nancy stops and plans a route on small back roads. It is nice to see the scenery at a slower pace.

I’m not paying much attention to anything but the landscape until I notice a sign with Mt Gretna 3 miles. We will soon be out of the car and visiting Nancy’s brother and sister. At the cottage, the car stops across the road, and we get out. The driving is over. I can begin to relax.

Sitting on the patio behind the house, Jeff, Sue, and I enjoy a beer. Nancy finishes her Dr. Pepper. Pizza and chicken bits are ordered and on the way.

After dinner, we visit and wind down for the evening.

It rained hard last night. Everything is wet and soggy. The sides of the screen tent are splashed with mud on the bottom eight inches. Our site is just wet dirt; some sites have deep puddles.

Breakfast is over, and the sun is out in the sky. A good day for a hike, so we head to the East Rim Trail. This follows the river upstream to a high waterfall. This is on the Gorge Trail, and it is closed beyond the falls for trail work. There have been lots of washouts that need to be made safe for hiking.

We turn around where the trail closes and hike to the West Rim Trail back to the campground. Both trails have many stairs to climb the hills; the West Rim Trail has the longer climbs.

We are back. Moe is sleeping in his chair; Nancy and I are having lunch. Moe wakes and has positioned himself between us in hopes of bits of food coming his way. The food is gone, and Moe climbs onto my lap to continue sleeping.

The mud on the screens has dried. I get a brush and wipe the dirt off the screens. As I finish, a large RV pulls into the site next to us. Nancy and Moe go over to welcome the three women that are settling in. I walk over and join the conversation. One of the women has done bike touring; this conversation will continue late this evening.

Today is Nancy’s birthday! Happy birthday to you!

It’s about a three-hour drive to Stony Brook State Park, NY. We have two nights there, and the weather looks promising. I hope to hike some trails to the falls. I open the door, and it’s a mud pit. I step outside and carefully place my feet, avoiding the worst of the worst. The wet grass and mud are slippery; I almost fall. Balance and foot placement are crucial. The young guys in the neighboring site are up; we go over to visit. Then we go visit the couple beside us and get into a long chat. If these pleasant distractions continue, we will never get out of here.

Nancy begins packing the screen tent while I move panniers from the car to the camper. We now have room to place the tent into the car. The bike and my touring gear are now in the camper. The car moves into place, and the camper is now hitched. Off we go.

We cross the Niagara River into Buffalo, New York. This is a large and very busy border crossing.

The passports are handed to border patrol; now a list of questions: are you citizens? Yes.  Of what country? The US. Where are you going? Back home. Where is your home? All these questions to answers that they already know looking at the passports!

We stop in the small town of Warsaw at an ice cream parlor; sundaes are ordered.

Back on the road with fifteen miles to go, we stop for groceries. We are five miles from the campground. The setup is easy and close to the bathroom and showers.

We are in the Finger Lake area of New York. I know this area well, I’ve ridden a bicycle through here often years ago. Dinner is Tortellini and garden salad. Dessert, Tiramisu.

Rain with thunder in the distance pauses my sleep. I look at my phone; it’s 3:30 a.m. Moe is curled against my lap. He also hears the thunder and presses closer with opened eyes staring out the window. He begins trembling with every clap.

The sky now quiet relaxes Moe; he is soon back into a deep sleep. I am getting there at a slower pace.

Eight o’clock and all are awake. The rain is gone; the mud and squishy grass stay behind. I dress and take Moe outside and set up the stove on the picnic table. The screen tent and table are on higher ground. I cook and eat with Moe looking up hopefully waiting to lick the plate. He loves egg yolk, a dog with good taste.

I make coffee and eat an oatmeal raisin cookie. These are not the fresh-baked cookies I get from home at the Cummington Creamery. These are regular store-bought cookies. The sad reality: the ingredients list is plain and simple, just what you’d put in making them at home. None of the added chemicals and additives in every factory-produced food in the United States.

Coming back to our site from a nice visit with our neighbors, I discovered in the site across from us a group of four twenty-something guys setting up a large tent. Thunder is in the near distance, and the wind is picking up. This did not deter them from having a shoe fight, throwing a shoe at each other. I foresee an interesting night ahead.

I stake the guy ropes out on the screen tent just in case. I am getting weather alerts for strong winds and severe lightning.

The strong wind is here, and the thunder in the distance is vibrating the ground. We move inside at 7 p.m. Moe is wrapped in his comfort blanket in Nancy’s arms. I’m sitting with them, sampling another Canadian local brewery, Sons of Kent. Lone Wolf Coffee Blonde is a blonde ale infused with whole coffee beans. It tastes of a nice, flavored smooth ale followed by a burst of strong coffee. What a great way for the last night in Canada. Pleasing the palate while listening to the rumble of thunder. Memories of sitting with my kids decades ago on the front porch floor during thunderstorms are with me tonight.

At 8 a.m. the day begins.

I just nibble on trail mix for breakfast. The camper is ready to load my bike and gear, then the cooler, solar panels, and chairs. We drive off at 10 a.m.

It looks like a sunny day with clouds. Today is a short drive of about three hours. I do not like being cramped in a moving box on wheels speeding down the road. Even so, I manage to get a few road shots for prosperity.

Selkirk Provincial Park is in sight. We drive to the office to check in. Our place for two nights is nestled into the trees not far from the restroom and shower building.

A quick lunch of macaroni salad and ham slices brings us to resting. The screen tent and all else are up and ready. The brief rest is just enough of a boost for me to walk the shore of Lake Erie. Nancy and Moe stay behind.

After walking the beach, I head back to the site and find Nancy with Moe walking to the beach. I join them and retrace my steps. Having the company is much better than solo.

Back at the site, Moe gets his dinner. I begin blogging. The cell service is super slow, and I plod along determined to finish the photo uploads.

The peepers are loud. This is a blessing; they drown the lousy music from a few sites away to a tolerable annoyance.

Moe and his morning walk took us to the laundry and shower building. Today will be cleaning the clothes and ourselves. Breakfast is over, and I’m sipping coffee under the screen tent. The cell service here is nil, one bar of LTE. I can’t check the weather app, but the sun is shining through puffy white clouds in a blue sky.

The walk to the shore of Lake Erie is short. Dogs are not allowed on the beach, so we brought him to the end of the trail.

Then back to the campsite. Nancy is gathering the laundry to do a load. There are washers and dryers at the shower building. I stay with Moe and wash the dishes. There are light sprinkles in the air.

Nancy is back, the clothes are in the dryer, and we drive to the Marsh Trailhead.

The hike is over, it’s mid-afternoon. I empty the dryer and bring them back to the car. We drive to the market just outside the park entrance. We get snack food, and I, with the help of a very knowledgeable staff, choose a pilsner to try this evening.

Back at the Park Store, we order chicken strips with sweet potato fries. To Moe’s delight, ice cream follows. Moe has spoons and a cup to lick clean.

Early evening sneaks up, and while sitting in the screen tent, I notice a colony of ants on the netting of the tent.

The pils is very good.

I’m glad we did the packing up last night. It rained hard with a few claps of thunder. This morning after eating, all I have to do is put the bike and panniers in the camper. My bike is outside under a tarp. We closed the windows and vent and cleared the bed for the bicycle. We carry it over to the doorway so not to get the wheels wet; the bike is still covered. With the front wheel inside, I roll the tarp back and get to the rear of the bike inside and remove the wet tarp. After a good shake, I put it into the shower for the trip.

It is now a heavy rain. Off we drive with the wipers racing across the windshield. It is only moving the water, not clearing it.

We are heading to Port Huron to cross into Canada. The mileage and time frame is quicker to head through Canada to cross back into the States at Buffalo, New York. We will reunite with Inky at Jeff and Sue’s cottage in Mount Gretna, Pennsylvania.

The border crossing is fast and easy.

From here, it is only fifty kilometers to our site at Rondeau Provincial Park. The rain is beginning to slow.

Now in the campsite, sprinkle is falling.

The screen tent is up.

We go to the camp store; no milk, but the drive is worth it. We order cheeseburgers for dinner, and hand-scooped ice cream follows. A walk to the bay rewards us with views of Lake Erie.

Bay Market is just out of the park entrance. I find milk in the cooler and walk through the aisles checking the wares. I find a nice selection of local breweries sold in single cans.

Back in our site, the rain is dancing on the tent. I am finishing the blog while enjoying the taste of Iron Spike Red Ale from Railway Brewing Company.

Another morning moon.

The campground is quiet at 8 a.m. I’m enjoying lying here, floating with a gentle sway. I put a tarp over the hammock, and this is keeping away the morning dew. The first human sounds break the stillness. The birds continue uninterrupted, the way a musician plays through a cough. Then the camper door opens, and the jungle of tags on a collar takes the stage. Moe leads Nancy to my resting spot. The day begins.

The girls next site over come to see Moe. Plans are made to walk Moe. They have waited all night to hold the leash as Moe sniffs his way through the campground.

 Nancy is in the screen tent eating oatmeal. I am cooking toast and eggs. I check the weather app: rain overnight and into Monday. I roll up the tarp and hang the sleeping bag on the ridge line to air.

We hike the trail around the edge of the park. The path of destruction.

The girls are back from the beach. I go visit the fathers, Tyler and Zack, and talk about touring, camping, and the places we have been. It is dinner time, and Nancy bring over my dinner. The girls offer dessert: crushed Oreos in vanilla  pudding.

We pack for the rain tonight. We hope to leave in the morning with most of our things dry.