Algonquin

This past weekend featured a trip to Algonquin Park, where we canoed and camped for four days and three nights and nine portages. I haven’t been camping in about five years, but it was relatively simple to get back into the swing of things. Once the first coat of grime settles in, the rest go on easy.

There was a bunch of loons, two squirrels, one moose, a handful of teeny tiny frogs, one bull frog, a whole world of mosquitoes and bitey thing, and one hummingbird that tried to land on my head.

Camp food has and hasn’t come a long was since the days of Girl Guides. Bags of trail mix and packets of hot chocolate are still a staple, but there is now freeze-dried astronaut food that, with a bit of boiling water, makes a meal in six minutes. Starbucks now makes single-serving instant coffee, which I basically lived on- much better than the glass-jarred, red-topped instant coffee of old.

Upon arriving back at the car, there was a lesson learned: it’s probably better to take a couple of cans of pop with you into the park and have to carry the can around for three days than to leave them in a hot vehicle. Cans ‘asplode real good. The whole top of a Vernor’s ginger ale was peeled back and though the can was still seated nicely in the cup holder, most of the soda was in the dash and on the wind shield. Yay for baby wipes! Thank goodness it didn’t break a window.

Covered in bug bites, we’re all safe and sound, and hardly sunburned at all. The fish got along OK on their own.

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