My eyes open and I’m wondering the time. The phone shows 6:30 a.m. I’m already awake, so I begin packing up. The valve opens, air whooshes out. I fold and roll the mattress and put it into the sack. Next, the pillow. The sleeping bag is stuffed into its bag. Everything in the tent is packed and piled next to the door. I slip on my shoes and stand out in the morning air.
The rain fly is now off and in its stuff sack. I empty the tent and fill the panniers. The tent is next. Once unclipped and the poles put away, the tent is put into its stuff sack. Now, the footprint is put in the sun to dry the damp underside. This entire process takes about twenty minutes. It is the routine of every morning.
The sky is getting dark. Nancy is getting the camper ready. We put my bike and gear inside, another routine if I am riding with her. The rain begins, everything has been put away dry.
We drive to Grand Marais. I get coffee and scones at a local coffee shop. Next is gas. We are now heading to the Canadian border.
We stop at Grand Portage to see the sights. Luck is with us today. There is a Rendezvous happening. Tent villages are set up. We stepped back in time to the 1700s. We spend hours looking, visiting, and learning the way of life in this trading port.
Back on the road to Canada. Entry is a breeze. We’re hoping it will be this easy coming back into the States.
We find the campground and set up camp.